Pure truth,” I said. “You are my bright penny by the roadside. You are worth more than salt or the moon on a long night of walking. You are sweet wine in my mouth, a song in my throat, and laughter in my heart. […] “You are too good for me,” I said, “You are a luxury I cannot afford. Despite this, I insist you come with me today. I will buy you dinner and spend hours waxing rhapsodicover the vast landscape of wonder that is you.” […] “I will play you music. I will sing you songs. For the rest of the afternoon, the rest of the world cannot touch us.



