it was all two people could ever be to each other, he supposed. alone together. for the dreams and secrets of our hearts may be spoken, but words are handmaidens. words can never fully say, for they fumble, stammer, and break the best porcelain. the best one can hope for is to find along the way someone to share the path, content to walk in silence, for the heart communes best when it does not try to speak.
-page 374
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment