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July 20 - July 26, 2025
Elizabeth more and more is getting the hang of Joyce’s type, and “anyone plausibly handsome” seems to cover it.
the football chairman bought me a bracelet that I would describe as a nice thought.
I fear I might be barking up the wrong tree with this one. I just hope I can bark up the right tree one of these days. Before I run out of trees. Or before I stop barking altogether.
Dom looks at Joyce. “You look like you’ve fallen in with a bad crowd.” Joyce nods.
“So I’ve got a dodgy cockney, a coke dealer, some old bird with a shooter, and . . .” He looks at Joyce again. “Joyce,” says Joyce.
Not so much “love affairs” as “occupational hazards.”
“You wanna buy a stolen painting?” And she discovered, to her immense surprise, that she did.
If you need us, we’ll be leaning on a gate, chewing on some straw.”
The real secret was that when they looked at each other, they each thought they had the better deal.
“I need you to talk less. I have a low boredom threshold. I was born with it, the doctors can’t do nothing.”
The pitch looks gorgeous, like an emerald amphitheater. Shame to spoil it with a game of football, but there we are.
“In my business you hear a thing or two about love. I find it easy to replicate. It is largely a willing abandonment of logic.”
It’s healthy fun, which is the second-best sort of fun there is.
“Not everything has to be cloak and dagger,” says Jill. “This isn’t Netflix.” “Oh, I’ve lived a life that would make Netflix blush,”
“That’s a double-negative,” says Ibrahim. “It might be better to—” Ron puts his hand on Ibrahim’s arm. “Not now, mate, he’s a heroin dealer.”
Love always finds a language.
God cries every time someone lies to a Canadian.
“I don’t care,” says Garth. “Again, not like ‘I don’t care what film we see,’ I literally do not care, I can’t overemphasize that.
“Life is a crisis, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know why we’re on this earth,” says Stephen. “Truly I don’t. But if I wanted to find the answer, I would begin with how much I love you.
There is nothing to be said, and yet I want to say something.
While love is alive, I could never choose to kill it.
will cling, kicking and screaming, to every second life has in store for me. I want the full picture, for good or for ill.
They still have each other, but not today. There will be laughing and teasing and arguing and loving again, but not today.
“Well . . . it wouldn’t be correct procedure,” says Jonjo. “The right thing to do so rarely is,” says Elizabeth.
