Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintry light.

The smallest coffins are the heaviest.

He saw the girl watching him and he smiled at her. It was an old smile that he had been using for fifty years, ever since he first smiled.

It was like certain dinners I remember from the war. There was much wine, an ignored tension, and a feeling of things coming that you could not prevent happening. Under the wine I lost the disgusted feeling and was happy. It seemed they were all such nice people.

Up the road, in his shack, the old man was sleeping again. He was still sleeping on his face and the boy was sitting by him watching him. The old man was dreaming about the lions.

Any man who eats dessert is not drinking enough.

This was a big storm and he might as well enjoy it. It was ruining everything, but you might as well enjoy it