Alphabet soup is my magic eight ball. Served hot or cold, words are delicious.
Better to be able to love than to be loveableBut my memories are like a fire in winter—whenever I'm cold I can warm my hands at them. —Ditta
The Joys of LoveBecause her flesh knows heat, cold, affliction, I know fire, snow, and pain.
Something Wicked This Way ComesLost, so small amid that dark, hands grown cold, body image fading down corridors of television sky.
NeuromancerA thin grey fog hung over the city, and the streets were very cold; for summer was in England.
The Light That Failed [Illustrated]Wow!” gasped Julia. They saw 20 or more young children of every sort lying on the cold, bare ground.
Mikolay and Julia in the Attic