Does the devil ever struggle to be good again, or if so is he not a devil?

It’s the place of the story, beginning here, in the meadow of late summer flowers, thriving before the Atlantic storms drive wet and winter upon them all.

But she woke up just then, and in the moonlight covered herself with a blanket. She smiled at him drowsily and called him "Yero, my hero," and that melted his heart.

While I pride myself on trying to be creative in all areas of my life, I have occasionally gone overboard, like the time I decided to bring to a party a salad that I constructed, on a huge rattan platter, to look like a miniature scale model of the Gardens of Babylon.

When the times are a crucible, when the air is full of crisis, those who are the most themselves are the victims.

So he stalked her again. Love makes hunters of us all.

She dreamed of leaving, but she had too little exposure to the world to imagine where to go.