Loyal? As loyal as anyone who plays second fiddle ever is.
Where there is great love there are always miracles.
The trees and shrubbery seemed well-groomed and social, like pleasant people.
The heart of another is a dark forest, always, no matter how close it has been to one's own.
People have to snatch at happiness when they can, in this world. It is always easier to lose than to find.
This land was an enigma. It was like a horse that no one knows how to break to harness, that runs wild and kicks things to pieces.