"So much held in a heart in a life. So much held in a heart in a day, an hour, a moment. We are utterly open with no one, in the end - not mother and father, not wife or husband, not lover, not child, not friend. We open windows to each, but we live alone in the house of the heart. Perhaps we must. Perhaps we could not bear to be so naked, for fear of a constantly harrowed heart. When young we think there will come one person who will savor and sustain us always; when we are older we know this is the dream of a child, that all hearts finally are bruised and scarred, scored and torn, repaired by time and will, patched by force of character, yet fragile and rickety forevermore, no matter how ferocious the defense and how many bricks you bring to the wall."
Joyas Voladoras, Brian Doyle
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