No one has patience for love except their own.

Y. That perfect letter. The wishbone, fork in the road, empty wineglass. The question we ask over and over.

No one has patience for love except their own.

For the long-limbed trees and watery landscape of Vancouver Island, read Hundreds and Thousands. Setting aside, who can resist a woman who lived in a caravan in Goldstream Park with a pack of dogs and a monkey and shunned the human race except to attend her own art openings? Only a genius could both paint and write my/her home.

Don’t believe anything anyone tells you. You have to evaluate the world with your own eyes.