“ And when his head slumped forward into his book, she giggled, for she knew that he was hers. ”
Love is the most primal force in the universe. It inspires us, pulling us over otherwise insurmountable obstacles. Art is created to exalt it, children are born of it, and entire lives are devoted to seeking it out in the most unlikely places.
~ C. Robert Cargill
I don't remember her. But she feels special. There's this hole in my heart every time I draw her; you know, a sick sort of feeling. Like she's someone I lost.
Puckett's Stacks was not the sort of bookshop one happened upon, it was the sort of bookshop for which one looked deliberately.
It's as if some bored ethereal being is fiddling with the remote control to his imagination, clicking channel after channel without finding anything to capture his interest for very long.
