You yourself never loved; you never love! Yes, I too can love; you yourselves can tell it from the past. Is it not so? - Bram Stoker

I couldn't sleep for the longest time. I lay in bed watching the wreaths of sea mist sweep by. At times the mist cleared, and the sea for some distance could be seen in the glare of the lightning, which now came thick and fast, followed by such sudden peals of thunder that the whole sky overhead trembled under the shock of the footsteps of the storm.

She had been to a tea-party with an antediluvian monster, and that they had been waited on by up-to-date men-servants.

I have always thought that a wild animal never looks so well as when some obstacle of pronounced durability is between us. A personal experience has intensified rather than diminished that idea.