She was owner and captive, both, of a bitterly divided heart.

Words were power, words tried to change you, to shape bridges of longing that no one could ever really cross.

How we remember changes how we have lived. Time runs both ways. We make stories of our lives.

... everyone knew that all islands were worlds unto themselves, that to come to an island was to come to another world.

What man would dare believe that all he planned might come to pass?

I will not say I am sorry, but I can tell you that I grieve.

She was owner and captive, both, of a bitterly divided heart.