We Might, Either Of Us,

She Is Melusina, The Water Goddess, And She Is Found In Hidden Springs And Waterfalls In Any Forest In Christendom, Even In Those As Far Away As Greece. (...) A Man May Love Her If He Keeps Her Secret And Lets Her Alone When She Wants To Bathe, And She May Love Him In Return Until He Breaks His Word, As Men Always Do, And She Sweeps Him Into The Depths With Her Fishy Tail, And Turns His Faithless Blood To Water. The Tragedy Of Melusina, Whatever Language Tells It, Whatever Tune It Sings, Is That A Man Will Always Promise More Than He Can Do To A Woman He Cannot Understand.

She Was Like A Mother To Me...and I Betrayed As A Daughter Will Betray Her Mother And Yet, Never Stop Loving Her.

I Wanted The Heat And The Sweat And The Passion Of A Man That I Could Love And Trust. And I Wanted To Give Myself To Him: Not For Advantage, But For Desire.

Although Some People Think I Am A Romantic Novelist I Have Always Thought Of Myself As A Rather Gritty Radical Historian.

...your Trouble, William, Is That You Have No Ambition. You Don't See That There Is In Life Only Ever One Goal.' 'and What Is That?' More', George Said Simply. 'just More Of Anything. More Of Everything.