“For one short wet month early in the next year the drought lifted. Spring tipped in like green well water frothing at the hedges bubbling at the roadside splashing from the cottage roof in garlands of ivy and stringflower ”

“The moon rose, an opalescent goddess tipping light from her harsh maternal scimitar.”

“Starlight and comet tails burned the tips of endless grass below into hammered silver. Like thousands of tapers in the chapel, just blown out but still glowing. If one could drown in the grass...it might be the best way to die.”

“What more does one ask of life, really, but to stagger from moment to moment with a reason to wake and wait for the next reason to wake?”

“Aren't these the finest treasures? Each one springs up, and becomes more red than rubies, more fine than diamonds adn more valuable, so we are told; and before you can run back here again to look, the petals have begin to drop and the leaves to yellow. Look, they sag, they fall. Are they the more wonderful because they live such a short time.”

“Under every roof, a story, just as behind every brow, a history”

“I learned failure early and mastered it.”