“My heart shifted a little in my chest; it seemed to swell and beat against my bones until I couldn't hear.”

“I couldn't understand a sense of unease that multiplied until I could hear my heart beating.”

“I couldn't see it because you are my heart, damn you! And how can I see my own heart if it's beating in my own chest?”

“In the cool of evening, in the silent shadowy barn, as we lay watching the sun ducking behind the treetops in the distance, I could hear my heart beating out the rhythm of my love for Frank. And when I rested my head against Frank’s warm chest, I could hear his heart beating out the same sweet song for me.”

“What will NY152 say today, I wonder. I turn on my computer. I wait impatiently as it connects. I go online, and my breath catches in my chest until I hear three little words: You've got mail. I hear nothing. Not even a sound on the streets of New York, just the beating of my own heart. I have mail. From you.”

“I press my ear against his chest, to the spot where I always rest my head, where I know I will hear the strong and steady beat of his heart. Instead, I find silence.”