Some couples grow closer with the years, but the Haskells had opted for continuity.
He had dumped his friends, and now, alone with his solitude, he discovered that his solitude preferred his friends.
There were lonely days, when her mind recalled promises not kept, and lonely nights, when her heart recalled promises not made.
Alone with her thoughts, Meg worried that somewhere Carl was alone with his inability to think.
He could read her like an ancient map of the known world.
She had always thought the McDermotts a curious couple, his face a map of Ireland, her face a map of Iceland.
When had she ever entered the world of her thoughts but as a stranger.
She had had several facelifts, and he wondered how she could be comfortable in her own skin when her skin looked so uncomfortable on her.
A bit of dialogue:
"I have several times, sitting bolt upright in bed in the middle of the night, completely comprehended God's plan, but I'm afraid one never has a pencil when one needs one."
"Truth be known, I have never gotten along that well with the part of the world that didn't marry me."
"It was a case of the innermost me falling madly in love with the outermost her."
"Artistic ability? My dear, I couldn't even draw a blank."
And, with apologies to Jane Austen, the opening of my novel of manners : "If God has not yet created a heaven for the good-intentioned, no doubt He intends to."
~~ Robert Brault