She was overstrained with grief and loneliness: almost any shoulder would have done as well.

Human sympathy has its limits, and we were contented to let all their tragic arguments fade with the city lights behind.

When I'm with you, I don't breathe quite right.

We want to believe. Young students try to believe in older authors, constituents try to believe in their Congressmen, countries try to believe in their statesmen, but they can't. Too many voices, too much scattered, illogical ill-considered criticism.

He looked at her the way all women want to be looked at by a man.

This unlikely story begins on a sea that was a blue dream, as colorful as blue-silk stockings, and beneath a sky as blue as the irises of children's eyes. From the western half of the sky the sun was shying little golden disks at the sea--if you gazed intently enough you could see them skip from wave tip to wave tip until they joined a broad collar of golden coin that was collecting half a mile out and would eventually be a dazzling sunset.

The world is always curious, and people become valuable merely for their inaccessibility