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It Suddenly Made Sense. Only Twice In His Life Had He Felt This Inexplicable, Almost Mystical Attraction To A Woman. He’d Thought It Remarkable, To Have Found Two, When In His Heart He’d Always Believed There Was Only One Perfect Woman Out There For Him. His Heart Had Been Right. There Was Only One.

When A Man Writes A Romance, The Woman Dies. When A Woman Writes One, It Ends All Tidy And Sweet.

I Have Friends Who Have Children, And They Have Told Me How Remarkable It Is To Have A New Life That Is A Piece Of Your Own Flesh Anf Blood. But I --" "i Realized That I Didn't Love Her Because She Was A Piece Of Me, I Loved Her Because She Was A Piece Of You.

And So Harry Became Proficient In The Task Of Cleaning Up Vomit.

Until You've Lived Through All That," He Said, "don't You Ever Complain About What We Have. Because To Me... To Me..." He Choked On The Words, But He Barely Paused Before He Continued. "this - Us - Is Heaven. I Can't Bear To Hear You Say Otherwise.