“. . . there was nothing yet to fear, and so he passed it off as joy, as heart-pounding, pulse-quaking joy. Not as a premonition. Not as the moment to grab her hand and turn and run.” — Laurie Frankel Copy Share Image
“--while the sun and wind played gently in its spreading branches; the bells of the Donskoy monastery would sometimes float across--tranquil and sad--and I would sit and gaze and listen, and would be filled with a nameless sensation which had… — Anonymous Copy Share Image
