You Can Spin Stories Out Of The

...beauty, She Had Discovered Occupied A Narrow Band. Ugliness, On The Hand, Had Infinite Variation.

Nothing Was To Be Lost By Beginning At The Beginning.

If I Could Write The Perfect Novella I Would Die Happy.

She Returned His Gaze, Struck By The Sense Of Her Own Transformation, And Overwhelmed By The Beauty Which A Lifetime Havit Had Taught Her To Ignore.

At The Risk Of Sounding Like Virginia Woolf, I Could Live On £700 A Year.