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I went for a natural, “I look pretty even when I’m giving birth,” look.

With no words to speak about our love, we’re each one more alone.

I have three girls from my previous marriages, but she beats them all.

Rebecca beheld the sword which was suspended over her people.

Below, the kiss silently maneuvers our bodies closer to the rose bed.

Gurov reflected, “it wouldn’t be a bad idea to make her acquaintance.”

We backed up and I kept ripping it at his face, trying to knock his teeth out.

Living as the last artist in Manhattan: it’s the ultimate test of commitment.

Even if he lost her he would never disparage her, never not love her.

Kids interfere with perfection. Wives interfere. Marriage interferes.

The letter both pleased and disturbed her. Why did he get in touch?

It was up airly and down late with him, and the loom never standin’ still.

He cannot imagine the shape his life would take without her.

The sense of power that flights of temper evoke will betray you.

Our camera pans along the porch, and we see each praying woman.

It was on a mid-June morning that the stranger first called.

A coldness bumped a last kiss upon my cheek, a good-bye kiss sliding across.

This is not deception. This is a subtle way of conditioning.

How shocking it was to discover these real things were not real.

Marriage changes passion. Suddenly you’re in bed with
a relative.

Sometimes a you is a lover, but he is not my lover. He is looking at me.

The face of love is a poem I am writing in an air-conditioned room.

Jane’s made it clear, this Renuka might not even become a doctor.

Your mother still glows with a smoothness that you envy.

Ron Carlson

This storm scares me. A foreign climate occupies the land.

I hadn’t even tried. I was one of the few kids D.A.R.E. had worked on.

He only told the world what the world wanted to hear from a guy who graduated from Harvard.

Derek was holding a gun. The barrel was pointed at his own temple.