“Hopes were wallflowers. Hopes hugged the perimeter of a dance floor in your brain, tugging at their party lace, all perfume and hems and doomed expectation. They fanned their dance cards, these guests that pressed against the walls of your heart.”
“Please send me your last pair of shoes, worn out with dancing as you mentioned in your letter, so that I might have something to press against my heart.”
“Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we're here we should dance”
“How’s your dance card look?” “Double-check your century Jules. No dance cards.” Jules shrugged & gave me his most flirtatious smile.”
“Life may not be the party we hoped for... but while we're here we may as well dance.”
“So Elizabeth, dare we take the dance floor again in hopes of repeating that splendid performance given by Lydia?”