He knew that all things human are transitory and therefore that it must cease one day or another. He looked forward to that day with eager longing. Love was like a parasite in his heart, nourishing a hateful existence on his life's blood; it absorbed his existence so intensely that he could take pleasure in nothing else.
W. Somerset MaughamWords have weight, sound and appearance; it is only by considering these that you can write a sentence that is good to look at and good to listen to.
W. Somerset Maugham