Friendships, even the best of them, are frail things. One drifts apart.

“It was a splendid mind. For if thought is like the keyboard of apiano, divided …”

“women are so suspicious of any interest that has not some obvious motive behind…”

“Quiet descended on her, calm, content, as her needle, drawing the silk smoothly…”

“Değil mi ki lanetlenmiş bir soyuz ve batan bir gemiye zincirlenmişiz, demek büt…”