“This was thieves’ cant. Mosca was a lover of words, and she had a sneaking liking for the grimy panache of cant, and those who wore it like a ragged red cloak.”
“the triumph cant be had without the struggle”
“Your love is like the wind...you cant see it, but you can feel it...”
“What you cant forget... God cant remember!”
“Well when you cant sleep well you cant dream and when you cant dream well whats life mean”
“Our love is like the wind... I cant see it, but I sure can feel it.”