Alice! a childish story take, And with a gentle hand Lay it where childhood's dreams are twined In memory's mystic band, Like pilgrim's wither'd wreath of flowers Plucked in a far-off land Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up save in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket—safe, dark, motionless, airless—it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable. C.S. Lewis  | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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