Then he kissed her. At his lips' touch she blossomed for him like a flower and the incarnation was complete.

The Montana sunset lay between the mountains like a giant bruise from which darkened arteries spread across a poisoned sky.

I don’t want just words. If that’s all you have for me, you’d better go

"What are you going to do?" "Can't say - run for president, write -" "Greenwich Village?" "Good heavens, no - I said write - not drink."

Then she added in a sort of childish delight: 'We'll be poor, won't we? Like people in books. And I'll be an orphan and utterly free. Free and poor! What fun!' She stopped and raised her lips to him in a delighted kiss. 'It's impossible to be both together,' said John grimly. 'People have found that out. And I should choose to be free as preferable of the two.

Can’t repeat the past?…Why of course you can!

Murder your darlings.