“Killing is not something you do privately, in the space of your own head. It happens here.” She opened her arms, as though to embrace the whole world. “In the relationship between bodies…” “It's the same with love,” she went on. “You're going at the whole thing as though it's a problem with you, inside of you, sealed off from the rest of the world. It's not. Love isn't a part of you or your lover. It's not something you can have, like a pile of gold or a pet pig. Love is this,” She said, gesturing into the emptiness between us. “The space between.” “There's space everywhere,” I growled, “between everyone.” “Don't be obtuse, Pyrre. It's the nature of the space that matters.”
Book:Skullsworn