Yes, she was lovely. But more than that, she was warm and funny and loving. Hot-tempered one moment, and laughing the next. And she could make a home anywhere. She carried a sort of security about with her. I can’t think of a single person who didn’t love her. I still think about her every day of my life. Sometimes she seems very dead. And other times, I can’t believe that she isn’t somewhere in the house and that a door won’t open and she’ll be there.

As for God, I frankly admit that I find it easier to live with the ageold questions about suffering than with many of the easy or pious explanations offered from time to time. Some of which seem to verge on blasphemy.

Being financially secure is truly a life-enhancer; it sweetly oils the wheels of life. But remember: to talk of money, the excess of it or the lack of it, is vulgar to the extreme. One either boasts or whines, and neither makes for good conversation.

Uncertainty is always hell.

He thought back over the extraordinarily coincidental chain of events that had brought him here, at this particular time, and then left him marooned, so that he had no choice but to stay. With hindsight, it seemed as though it had all been carefully mapped out by fate.

Perhaps that was the worst of all. Not having someone to remember things with.

I know we didn’t have very long together, but what we did have was special. Not many people achieve such happiness, even for a year or two.

Life, for both of us, can never be the same as it was, but it can be different; and you have proved to me that it can be good.

He’s threatening to breed polo ponies, but he’s always been a man of great ideas, but little action, so I don’t suppose he will.

One just had to be content with what had happened so far.