It was heaven. Forget angels, forget St. Peter and glittering harpsichords. Heaven was a dance in the arms of one's true love.

She hated that she was still so desperate for a glimpse of him, but it had been this way for years.

I have friends who have children, and they have told me how remarkable it is to have a new life that is a piece of your own flesh anf blood. But I --" "I realized that I didn't love her because she was a piece of me, I loved her because she was a piece of you.

You are not going to waltz in here and distract me with a clever phrase and a beguiling smile." "You think my smile is beguiling?

I’m trying to embroider.” Hyacinth held up her handiwork as proof. “You’re trying to avoid—” Her mother stopped, blinking. “I say, why does that flower have an ear?” “It’s not an ear.” Hyacinth looked down. “And it’s not a flower.” “Wasn’t it a flower yesterday?” “I have a very creative mind,” Hyacinth ground out, giving the blasted flower another ear. “That,” Violet said, “has never been in any doubt.” Hyacinth looked down at the mess on the fabric. “It’s a tabby cat,” she announced. “I just need to give it a tail.

He loved her. He wanted her. He needed her. And he needed her now.

There were rules among friends, commandments, really, and the most important one was Thou Shalt Not Lust After Thy Friend's Sister.