Sometimes you feel euphoric. Everything is sublime and has an aura, and suddenly you are intensely nauseated and then you are gone...Everything seems simple until you think about it. Why is love intensified by absence?
I am like a caterpillar in a cocoon of paper; all around me are sketches of sculptures, small drawings that seem like moths fluttering against the windows, beating their wings to escape from this tiny space.
I hate to be where she is not, when she is not. And yet, I am always going, and she cannot follow...
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This really special novel has been burrowed in my heart's chamber for 4 years, and each time I pick it up, the prose moves me...Clare and Henry have grown up with me, or rather the other way round... in my reality of everyday arguments and laughter, you sorta feel like living in their shoes just for one chapter...
Their romance is symbolic of all great romances that you and I have experienced. Sadly (or maybe not), some affairs are passionate and brief whilst others are long-lasting but passionless. I turn to the dog-eared, age-stained pages of my copy - truly one of the few of my life's possessions - at times when I need to remember...
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