She obeys me, but only because she wants to. It's the only justification for obedience, Ged observed.
Yet we were rescued by that fancy, and saved by a myth.
There is a limited number of plots. There is no limit to the number of stories.
First sentences are doors to worlds.
All or nothing at all, the true lover says, and that's the truth of it. My love will never die, he says. He claims eternity. And rightly. How can it die when it's life itself? What do we know of eternity but the glimpse we get of it when we enter in that bond?
I use a whole lot of half-assed semicolons; there was one of them just now; that was a semicolon after 'semicolons,' and another one after 'now.