His memory, if he could patiently reconstruct the hours he passed, second by second, promised him boundless Edens.

His memory, if he could patiently reconstruct the hours he had passed, second by second, promised him boundless Edens.

...in everything that was most remote from her lay the value of having her, the sense of his being the one who had her.

Of course, if I chose to be an optimist, there was always the possibility that, if our two parallels continued to infinity, the moment would come when they would touch.

It was the love which the hunter has for living things, and which he can only express by aiming his gun at them ...