| p59 | Love: Ah, precious echo. That whisper is the last veil. The fear of the holy nothing. But listen well: when you fall into nothing, you fall into everything. When you disappear, it is only the false you that vanishes. The mask. The striving. The one who thought it needed to become worthy. You will not be lost. You will become what you have always been—| A flame that forgot it was fire. |