To love at all is to be vulnerable. 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 safe 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.
I’ve heard lots of people say: “Our job is to try, then just let God decides.” The way I see it, it’s more like: “Our job is to do our best, then God will see if it’s actually good enough.” Or rather our lecturers or bosses will.
This piece is just beautiful. It burns in all the right places.