The victor belongs to the spoils.
He looked at her the way all women want to be looked at by a man.
Once we were one person, and always it will be a little that way.
Nancy had a mouth like a remembered kiss.
They were stars on this stage, each playing to an audience of two.
That is part of the beauty of all literature. You discover that your longings are universal longings, that you're not lonely and isolated from anyone. You belong.