Read in Dean Koontz's Book- False Memory

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 those occasions when it was a solemn weight, mde it more precious when , in better times, it caught wind in sleeves like wings-and lifted you.