“Debbie insisted on following the rhythm of the waves. Typical duck-squeezer sex: slow, frustrating, in-tune with nature.”

“Kinky sex involves the use of duck feathers. Perverted sex involves the whole duck.”

“There are two kinds of people,’ she’d said. ‘Those who coast through life like ducks in a row, following one after the other, and those who ride the waves.’” Tears spilled down my cheeks, and my voice cracked. “‘Ride the waves, baby, and live. Live.”

“I have been acutely aware of the noise of the wash. The slow, steady beat of those little waves lapping the shore sounds like the rhythm of an ancient heart. And I know that this place is old, so old time doesn’t matter.”

“Love moves in sync with the cadence of forgiveness, sings in tune with the melody of acceptance, and dances in rhythm with the music of companionship.”

“Time moved for you not in quotidian beats, but in the slow rhythm the ages keep –”