“He wonders how so much water can resist the pull of so much gravity for the time it takes such pregnant clouds to form, he wonders about the moment the rain begins, the turn from forming to falling, that slight silent pause in the physics of the sky as the critical mass is reached, the hesitation before the first swollen drop hurtles fatly and effortlessly to the ground.”

“He takes my face with two hands. His eyes drink in every part, and then a slight pause, hesitation perhaps. For a moment, he turns away and then with the same intensity as when he closed the distance between us, he pulls me against him and kisses me. He kisses me firmly with his soft and hungry mouth. He tastes salty and sweet, and I fall deep into a blinding torrent of wonder.”

“Behold how this drop of seawaterhas taken so many forms and names;it has existed as mist, cloud, rain, dew, and mud,then plant, animal, and Perfect man;and yet it was a drop of waterfrom which these things appeared.Even so this universe of reason, soul, heavens, and bodies,was but a drop of water in its beginning and ending....When a wave strikes it, the world vanishes;and when the appointed time comes to heaven and stars,their being is lost in not being.”

“Each time a drop of water forms under the spout of a tap, it means that one can wrench something away from the nameless mass.”

“I guess that’s how it goes. Opposites attract. He was the sunshine to my rain. He could find the best in an ordinary day of clouds and I gravitated towards his rays. He taught me how wonderful life could be and he gave me so much. And for that, I am truly grateful.”

“I wonder how much deeper the ocean would be without sponges soaking up so much water.”