“The flush on her pale cheeks was like the blush of sunset on snow.”

“Her features were dainty, her small slender wrists climbed up to become the delicate shoulders that beckoned him. Her skin was like peach-tinted cream and he need not have touched her to experience the melting softness of her body. Her perfectly oval face was austere and her manner a little haughty. Her expressions had delicacy as well as a particular strength that did not abate her femininity. It seemed that the world had stopped. Her voice sounded like a melody and she looked like a dream, an illusion, up close and personal.”

“It was as if the rare joy that had formed in my heart was replaced by a pale shadow threatening to engulf me at that very moment. Victory didn’t matter now. She did!”

“Her melodious laughter sounded like the distant tinkling of soft bells and he stored the sound in her temple- his heart.”

“I eyed her like a thirsty traveler in the desert looks at a pail of water.”

“Love, he told himself, was open to interpretation like any other abstract indulgence but followed the same principles everywhere, irrespective of everything else. One, either won or lost in love, there was no bridge in between, and he decided he had lost, lost to himself, if not to her.”

“Her receding laughter sounded so comforting, so alluring to my senses that I could hardly control myself from reaching out to her and telling her what I felt there and then!”