There is only one reason I did not go down in flames over the Angers, and that is because I knew I had Julie in the back. Would never have had the presence of mind to put that fire out if I hadn't been trying to save her life.

Nothing like an arcane literary debate with your tyrannical master while you pass the time leading to your execution.

But a part of me lies buried in lace and roses on a riverbank in France-a part of me is broken off forever. A part of me will be unflyable, stuck in the climb.

I tend not to attempt to describe pain. I don't feel I can comprehend or re-create the personal suffering of others, so I simply try to tell what happened, or what I imagine happened. I also think it helps to let the reader fill in a lot of the blanks. Melodrama is patronizing. With a straightforward statement, readers can figure out for themselves what's going on.

Hope is treacherous, but how can you live without it?

Must stop. This ink is amazing, it really doesn't smear, even when you cry on it

Southampton's barrage balloons floated gleaming in the moonlight like the ghosts of elephants and hippos.