Once, when I was at a museum, I was approached by an art student with a tape recorder. He told me to close my eyes, and then asked me describe the first image that came into my head.

"What do you see when you think of love?" he asked.

Without hesitating, I answered, "I see a very dark room, with a small window in the corner, letting the moonlight in."

Whose bed do you remember?

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