I particularly like this description:-
"Love was a sacred garment, woven of a fabric so thin that it could not be seen, yet so strong that even mighty death could not tear it, a garment that could not be frayed by use, that brought warmth into what would otherwise be an intolerably cold world. But at times love could also be as heavy as chain mail; bearing the burden of love, on these occasions when it was a solemn weight, made it more precious when, in better times, it caught the wind in sleeves like wings and lifted you."
Dean Koontz
from his book "False Memory"
