At first we raced through space, like shadows and light; her rants, my raves; her dark hair, my blonde; black dresses, white. She's a purple-black African-violet-dark butterfly and I a white moth. We were two wild ponies, Dawn and Midnight, the wind electrifying our manes and our hooves quaking the city; we were photo negatives of each other, together making the perfect image of a girl.

Society, civilized society at least, is never very ready to believe anything to the detriment of those who are both rich and fascinating.

We can’t win against obsession. They care, we don’t. They win.

Written By Douglas Adams

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