Happiness is the light on the water. The water is cold and dark and deep.

It was lovely when you found students who responded to things you were enthusiastic about.

Your reader is at least as bright as you are

In talking about the past, we lie with every breath we draw.

Sometimes she goes out to work as a practical nurse, and comes home and sits by the kitchen table soaking her feet in a pan of hot water and Epsom salts. When she gets into bed and the springs creak under her weight, she groans with the pleasure of lying stretched out on an object that understands her so well.

Satin and lace and brown velvet and the faint odor of violets. That was all which was left to him of his love.

Happiness is the light on the water. The water is cold and dark and deep.