Because a place can do many things against you, and if its your home or if it was your home at one time, you still love it. That’s how it works.

This memory was both happy and sad: happy because it was so pleasant, and sad because it made Penelope think about how much she missed Swanburne–the girls, the teachers, Miss Mortimer. Or perhaps it was...

We should have taken our chances back then, when we were young and beautiful and didn’t even know it.

These aren’t still shots; the camera is always moving. And the scene is always just slipping out of sight, as if in spite of myself I were always descending a hill, rounding a corner, stepping...

She was a very pretty woman. She had dark red hair and her eyes — her eyes are just like mine, Harry thought, edging a little closer to the glass. Bright green — exactly the...