He frowns. "A dance with the carnivorous Felicity? Why? Has she eaten all the other available gentlemen?

Write like it matters, and it will.

Oh, I've a love, a true, true love, who waits upon yon shore... and if my love won't be my love, then I will live no more.

She holds up a finger. "I'm getting to it. Don't rush a girl in the middle of her exposition.

We're all strangers connected by what we reveal, what we share, what we take away--our stories. I guess that's what I love about books--they are thin strands of humanity that tether us to one another for a small bit of time, that make us feel less alone or even more comfortable with our aloneness, if need be.

To live is to love, to love is to live.

I invited myself. Thought this table needed some class.