Love is a chain of love as nature is a chain of life.
She had only one flaw. She was perfect, otherwise whe was perfect.
But mostly they were lies I told; it wasn't my fault, I couldn't remember, because it was as though I'd been to one of those supernatural castles visited by characters in legends: once away, you do not remember, all that is left is the ghostly echo of haunting wonder.
That's all a writer has to write about - what he sees and hears and what not.
I dream of eagles and bring forth sparrows.
But I know what I like.' She smiled, and et the cat drop to the floor. 'It's like Tiffany's,'she said. 'Not that I give a hoot about jewellery. Diamonds, yes. But it's tacky to wear diamonds before you're forty; and even that's risky.