“He looked like a once-green leaf that had begun to dry and to reveal the structure of its veins.”

“The blood in my veins is frozen but it sings of love.”

“The mist hung in the air like a prancing unicorn.”

“She couldn't see him, but his voice was like light through a stained-glass window in a cathedral.”

“That's emails for ya: sometimes they're like an arrow that hits so deep in the target, you can't pull it out.”

“They were an end-of-days couple, not naked in a garden but wrapped in layers in a snow-covered landscape where there were no more apples on the trees and women would no longer have to take the blame because the old lie had been covered over by snow.”

“Because two people in love don't make a hive mind. Neither should they want to be a hive mind, to think the same, to know the same. It's about being separate and still loving each other, being distinct from each other. One is the violin string one is the bow.”