People Who Travel Are Always Fugitives.

I Could Fight With The Living But I Could Not Fight The Dead. If There Was Some Woman In London That Maxim Loved, Someone He Wrote To, Visited, Dined With, Slept With, I Could Fight Her. We Would Stand On Common Ground. I Should Not Be Afraid. Anger And Jealousy Were Things That Could Be Conquered. One Day The Woman Would Grow Old Or Tired Or Different, And Maxim Would Not Love Her Anymore. But Rebecca Would Never Grow Old. Rebecca Would Always Be The Same. And She And I Could Not Fight. She Was To Strong For Me.

There Was Never An Accident.rebecca Was Not Drowned At All. I Killed Her.i Shot Rebecca In The Cottage In The Cove.i Carried Her Body To The Cabin, And Took The Boat Out That Night And Sunk It There, Where They Found It Today.it's Rebecca Who's Lying Dead There On The Cabin Floor.will You Look Into My Eyes And Tell Me That You Love Me Now?

He Was Like Someone Sleeping Who Woke Suddenly And Found The World...all The Beauty Of It, And The Sadness Too. The Hunger And The Thirst. Everything He Had Never Thought About Or Known Was There Before Him, And Magnified Into One Person Who By Chance, Or Fate--call It What You Will--happened To Be Me.

No Person Will Ever Get Into My Blood As A Place Can ... People And Things Pass Away, But Not Places.

No, Mary Had No Illusions About Romance. Falling In Love Was A Pretty Name For It, That Was All.