Nothing in the world can take the place of Persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education alone will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent.
She came from near the sea. The water was in her blood. He loved that about her.
In the mornings she was placid like a cold mountain lake. To intrude on her, to touch her, was a sacrilege he could never perpetrate. He would wake before her and lie still. Near her. Votive. Her still form taught him all he knew about nature. At times, she would stretch and pour herself over him and she was a draught to cure everything. But hers was a body of water and usually she went straight to the shower instead. She left the door open and he knew that was for him, so he could listen to the irregular pounding of the water on the tub basin as she interrupted the steady warm hiss from above. He would turn onto his back in the middle of their shared bed and slide back down the line of waking to that sound. Once, near the start of their days together, she had emerged from that steamy womb naked and drenched and dripping. She left water prints on the carpet and pulled the sheets off his body and laid herself over him, soaking the bed. Foot to foot, belly to belly, cheek to cheek, lip to lip. Her wet hair was cold against his neck, but her body was warmer than usual from the shower. He remembered that every morning. Usually she came out dry and he would go to make breakfast while she dressed.
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