... a gaggle of old ladies is glued to the window at the end of the hall like children or jailbirds. They're spidery and frail, their hair as fine as mist. Most of them are a good decade younger than me, and this astounds me. Even as your body betrays you, your mind denies it.--There are five of them now, white headed old things huddled together and pointing crooked fingers at the glass.

You do right by me, I'll show you a life most suckers can't even dream of.

i'm afraid to breathe in case i break the spell

I tend not to think about the reading public at all, or the business, when I'm writing.

I have to convince myself that this is not a pointless life, even the body is telling me so.

Honey, I plan to marry you the moment the ink is dry on that death certificate.

After sixty-one years together, she simply clutched my hand and exhaled.