Never. Never ask for what ought to be offered.
It's not always to the benefit of the story to have it so preordained.
Fading light buttered the ridges until shadows licked them clean and they were lost to nightfall.
I said shut up once already, with my mouth.
Pine trees with low limbs spread over fresh snow made a stronger vault for the spirit than pews and pulpits ever could.
The heart makes dreams seem like ideas.