Just like an alley in New York -like every alley in the world, apparently- it smelled like cat pee.

To love something is to destroy it forever.

Will’s hand looked brown and sunburnt by contrast, their fingers dovetailed together like piano keys.

Tessa was laying on her side, her brown hair spread over the pillow, watching Will, whose face was bent over the pages, with a look of tenderness in her eyes, a tenderness mirrored in the softness of Will's voice as he read.

Unless there was a reason for me to stay.

you know this means that what we did-what we almost did in Paris-" "Going to the Eiffel Tower?

Goodness," Tessa said to the back of his head. "If you keep seeing Six-Fingered Nigel like this, he'll expect you to declare your intentions.