I see we have a problem.’ Lucas gripped her other arm and gave her a non-too-gentle shake. ‘Are you in a relationship? or...’ Those dark eyes searching hers narrowed into slits. ‘Are you married?

Screw you," I told him in a low voice.
"Are you offering?”
"From what I've heard, there isn't much to screw," I shot back.

I don't mind your calling me a clog, if only we were fastened together."

"But I do mind you calling me a donkey," he replied.

If, as I can't help suspecting, the dead also feel the pains of separation (and this may be one of their purgatorial sufferings), then for both lovers, and for all pairs of lovers without exception, bereavement is a universal and integral part of our experience of love.

The death of a beloved is an amputation.

Generally speaking, I try not to generalize.