Vi er ikke annet enn tønner fulle av varme, halvråtne innvoller, og derfor har vi alltid vanskeligheter med følelsene våre. være forelsket er ingen kunst. Kunsten består i å unngå å gå i oppløsning. En...

Then he kissed her so deeply and so completely that she felt like she was falling, floating, spiraling down, down, down, like Alice in Wonderland.

She felt the essence of herself pulled finer and smaller like those streams of spun glass that pull and stretch till there remains but a glimmering illusion. Neither falling nor breaking, the stream spins finer....

your gazeacrossmy cheeksturned theminto strawberry fields.