We were very much in love — the wild, mysterious, improbable kind of love that never comes but once. - Raymond Chandler

I'm not a young man. I'm old, tired and full of no coffee.

The night was all around, soft and quiet. The white moonlight was cold and clear, like the justice we dream of but don't find.

She came back with the glass and her fingers, cold from holding the glass, touched mine, and I held them for a moment and then let them go slowly, as you let go of a dream when you wake with the sun in your face and you have been in an enchanted valley