Authors:
  • He, too, stood looking at her for a moment - and it seemed to her that it was not a look of greeting after an absence, but the look of someone who had thought of her every day of that year. She could not be certain, it was only an instant, so brief that just as she caught it, he was turning.

    Ayn Rand (2005). “Atlas Shrugged”, p.106, Penguin