On the moon we spoke a soft, liquid tongue, and sang in the starlight, looking down on the dead dried world. - Shirley Jackson

You will be wondering about that sugar bowl, I imagine, is it still in use? You are wondering, has it been cleaned? You may very well ask, was it thoroughly washed?

Journeys end in lovers meeting; I have spent an all but sleepless night, I have told lies and made a fool of myself, and the very air tastes like wine.

"When I was a child," Theodora said lazily, "' — many years ago,' Doctor, as you put it so tactfully — I was whipped for throwing a brick through a greenhouse roof. I remember I thought about if for a long time, remembering the whipping but remembering also the lovely crash, and after thinking about it very seriously I went out and did it again."