Janice used to say that instinct was reason in a hurry; I was not so sure about the reason part.

I did not know my soul until I saw it's reflection in your eyes.

For as long as I could remember, he had never worn a single piece of clothing that could be considered casual. Khaki shorts and golf shirts, to Umberto, were the garments of men who have no virtues left, not even shame.

If you let go of me now,” I whispered, stretching against him, “it could be another six hundred years before you find me again. Are you willing to take that risk?

I am sorry I didn’t tell you the truth before. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to. You kept asking about Romeo and what he was really like. I was hoping that”—he smiled wistfully—“you would recognize me.

By the time we left college, I had become my own image: a dandelion in the flower bed of society. Kinda cute, but still a weed.

Great love, you believe, carries the seeds of great sorrow.