Bring To Me, It Said, Continual Proof

And The Words We Find Are Always Insufficient, Like Love, Though They Are Often Lovely And All We Have.

I’ve Had It With All Stingy-hearted Sons Of Bitches. A Heart Is To Be Spent.

Isn't There A Curious Elegance In How One Moment Passes Into Another?

I Will Try To Disappoint You Better Than Anyone Ever Has.

Connubial Because With Alarming Accuracy She’d Been Identifying Patterns I Was Unaware Of—this Tic, That Tendency, Like The Way I've Mastered The Language Of Intimacy In Order To Conceal How I Felt— I Knew I Was In Danger Of Being Terribly Understood.