Sarah L. Barrow

“Hope is a torturous thing. It wrenches one from despair just long enough to allow one to take a breath before plunging her back beneath the icy waters. If it wasn't for those breaths, it would be easy to let ice claim the soul. Easy to let surrender swallow the struggle. But hope - cruel mistress that she is - is not satisfied with so neat an ending. Like a house cat with a tiny prisoner, she wants only to torment the soul again, and again, until it dies from a burst heart.””

“It was for him that I searched in every whisper of speech I heard, in every gentle touch, in every small glimpse of a face. It was for just one more glimmer of him, one more of his words passing like fine silk through the ring of my mind, one more sweetly bitter kiss searing my lips like fresh ginger.””

“More like tigers strolling along on twin pieces of string while a babe pointed and burbled.””