“Breathing through his mouth, he found he could taste the air. It was the taste of an old, abandoned book; of a damp cemetery in autumn.” — Ambrose Ibsen Copy Share Image
“Breathing through his mouth, he found he could taste the air. It was the taste of an old, abandoned book; of a damp cemetery… — Ambrose Ibsen Copy Share Image
“Abigail entered the room, leaving the door open behind her, and sat down at the foot of Amy's bed. “I don't like this,” she… — Ambrose Ibsen Copy Share Image
“There's nothing more unforgivable than ruining the natural flavor of coffee with sugar, if you ask me. Polishing” — Ambrose Ibsen Copy Share Image
