yet another peice of happenstance for all to see

[crimsonoke]

"When he thought of her (whend didnt he?) his mouth was dry and his palms were wet; he sighed; he shook. She was in his mind's eye now, like a fugitive from some more perfect place. Her skin was flawless and always cool, always pale; her body was long, like her hair, like her fingers, like her laughter; and her eyes, oh her eyes, had every season of leaf in them: the twin greens of sping and high summer, the golds of autumn, and, in her rages, black midwinter rot"

Clive barker, Imajica