"They soon discovered they had loads in common. They marveled that they had booked Cannes with the same travel agent. Mr. Wolfensohn was a partner in Red Ramona, a New York music studio, and Ms. Small had a cat named Ramona."

I like reading the Weddings section of the Sunday Times. Sentences like these support my delusional love life by lowering the concept of soul mate to the level of inane coincidence.