Guilleaume left La Praline with a small bag of florentines in his pocket; before he had turned the corner of avenue des Francs Bourgeois I saw him stoop to offer one to the dog. A pat, a bark, a wagging of the short stubby tail. As I said, some people never have to think about giving.

A few hundred years ago there were no differences between magic and medicine.

This isn't the first time the world has come to an end, and it won't be the last either.

Divination is a means of telling ourselves what we already know.

Somehow the anticipation of pain can be even more troubling, more a misery than the pain itself.

Their love was something which coloured the air between them like sunlight.

I'm insatiably curious.