I Don't Have A Plan For A

I Want To Die On Your Chest But Not Yet She Wrote Sometime In The 13th Century Of Our Love

The First Sentence Of Every Novel Should Be: Trust Me, This Will Take Time But There Is Order Here, Very Faint, Very Human.

And It Would Be A Spare Life He Would Be Certain To Lead As A Schoolteacher In Some Urban Location. But He Had A Serenity That Came With The Choice Of The Life He Wanted To Live. And This Serenity And Certainty I Have Seen Only Among Those Who Have The Armour Of Books Close By.

Her Hand Touched Me At The Wrist. "if I Gave You My Life, You Would Drop It. Wouldn't You?" I Didn't Say Anything.

Sometimes When She Is Able To Spend The Night With Him They Are Wakened By The Three Minarets Of The City Beginning Their Prayers Before Dawn. He Walks With Her Through The Indigo Markets That Lie Between South Cairo And Her Home. The Beautiful Songs Of Faith Enter The Air Like Arrows, One Minaret Answering Another, As If Passing On A Rumor Of The Two Of Them As They Walk Through The Cold Morning Air, The Smell Of Charcoal And Hemp Already Making The Air Profound. Sinners In A Holy City.