You Can Spin Stories Out Of The

When Anything Can Happen, Everything Matters.

Finally He Spoke The Three Simple Words That No Amount Of Bad Art Or Bad Faith Can Every Quite Cheapen. She Repeated Them, With Exactly The Same Slight Emphasis On The Second Word, As Though She Were The One To Say Them First. He Had No Religious Belief, But It Was Impossible Not To Think Of An Invisible Presence Or Witness In The Room, And That These Words Spoken Aloud Were Like Signatures On An Unseen Contract.

All This Happiness On Display Is Suspect... If They Think - And They Could Be Right - That Continued Torture And Summary Executions, Ethnic Cleansing And Occasional Genocide Are Preferable To An Invasion, They Should Be Sombre In Their View.

What Is It Precisely, That Feeling Of 'returning' From A Poem? Something Is Lighter, Softer, Larger - Then It Fades, But Never Completely.

She Returned His Gaze, Struck By The Sense Of Her Own Transformation, And Overwhelmed By The Beauty Which A Lifetime Havit Had Taught Her To Ignore.