"Ah, whither love's ardor whose heat used to scorch her?/Now his mere face can assail her like torture..."

"And being alone with him renders her frantic/It makes her a hectoring shrew, a pedantic/Wet blanket, although it is also true, in her defense/That Nate can be maddeningly oafish and dense."

Who chips a mug without knowing it, or

Doesn't see that they've just spilt some milk on the floor?

And once pointed out, he goes all Lotus

Position-y, saying mildly, "Wow. I didn't notice."

It's the new book — sadly, posthumous — by David Rakoff. "Love, Dishonor, Marry, Die, Cherish, Perish: A Novel."

I exclaim "Oh, great!" out loud when I see that he's the narrator on the audiobook version. I'm so sorry that he died, but he had time to write a last book and time, even, to read it — act it — to us.