The dead and living, the known and hidden, the darkness and light all moved inexorably towards each other. 

Reading the ancient poem, tears began to trickle down her face as she realized she had fallen in love with a man who had died a thousand years ago. 

The End Times couldn't come fast enough, in Eric's opinion. 

Other's overwhelming acts of kindness toward Ophelia left little impression upon her but even the slightest of slights remained vividly embossed upon her memory until the day she died. 

Every grbled wrd he wrote showed a lack of a tidy mind (or a dcent decent editor).  

Their love was like waves of heat rising off the pavement. 

The moth to flame, a heart in ashes, reborn as a warm sigh.