Two people who are a little bit deluded in each other's favour. That's what love is, isn't it?

An idler and a sluggard are as different as a gourmand and a glutton.

Eva. Every day I've climbed up the belfry chanting a lucky chant at one syllable per beat, "To-day-to-day-let-her-be-here-to-day-to-day.

As an experienced editor, I disapprove of flashbacks, foreshadowings, and tricksy devices; they belong in the 1980s with M.A.s in postmodernism and chaos theory.

Dreams are shores where the ocean of spirit meets the land of matter. Dreams are beaches where the yet-to-be, the once-were, the will-never-be may walk awhile with the still-are.

History admits no rules; only outcomes.

We looked at each other for the last time; nothing is as eloquent as nothing.