When passion is mutual, there is always the danger of the fire burning to ashes.

The sun burnt on, drugging everything with warmth.

Moonlight lined the windowsills like a fall of snow.

Being constantly with children was like wearing a pair of shoes that were expensive and too small. She couldn't bear to throw them out, but they gave her blisters.

What we remember is probably fiction anyway.

I've never been drawn to the feminist movement. I was brought up to believe that men had little to do with the home or children - except to bring in the money.

nothing is so sad as the injustices of old age.