Music is everybody's business. It's only the publishers who think people own it.

I tried to speak insipidly$$$ yet everything I said seemed to take on a double meaning.

And he would watch the snow falling$$$ thin and ceaseless$$$ on the empty lands below the window$$$ and feel the dull cold grow within him$$$ till it seemed no feeling was left to him except a kind of weariness.

Outside the locked room is the landscape of time$$$ in which the spirit may$$$ with luck and courage$$$ construct the fragile$$$ makeshift$$$ improbable roads and cities of fidelity: a landscape inhabitable by human beings.

Infinite are the arguments of mages.

That is between me and my shadow.

But now his dry and silent grieving for his lost wife must end$$$ for there she stood$$$ the fierce$$$ recalcitrant$$$ and fragile stranger$$$ forever to be won again.

Yet we were rescued by that fancy$$$ and saved by a myth.

Privacy$$$ in fact$$$ was almost as desirable for physics as it was for sex.

A forest ecology is a delicate one. If the forest perishes$$$ its fauna may go with it. The Athshean word for world is also the word for forest.