“His voice was cloves and nightingales.”

“His voice was cloves and nightingales, it took us to spice markets in the Celebs, we drifted with him on a houseboat beyond the Coral Sea. We were like cobras following a reed flute.”

“Her voice made me drunk, deep and sun-warmed, a hint of a foreign accent, Swedish singsong a generation removed.”

“His guitar bore his longing up into the darkness like sparks, a music profound in its objectless desire, beautiful beyond solace or solution”

“To know I was beautiful in his eyes made me beautiful. ”

“Death like a lover, caressing him, promising him peace, running its fingers through his hair, its tongue in his ear. She put her own two fingers in her mouth. Im so sorry. And pulled the trigger”

“her scruffy innoscense to impregnate with his dreams. reason was seductive, it gave the appearance of truth”