Even if love was underneath it all, there was a great deal piled on top, and what would you find when you dug down> Not a simple gift, pure gold and shining; instead, something ancient and possibly baleful, like an iron charm rusting among old bones. A talisman of sorts, this love, but a heavy one; a heavy thing for me to carry around with me, slung on its iron chain around my neck.
From The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood.
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