I Care Not Who Hoes The Lettuce

Later She Remembered All The Hours Of The Afternoon As Happy -- One Of Those Uneventful Times That Seem At The Moment Only A Link Between Past And Future Pleasure, But Turn Out To Have Been The Pleasure Itself.

The Exhilarating Ripple Of Her Voice Was A Wild Tonic In The Rain.

Very Well Then, Better A Sane Crook Than A Mad Puritan.

I Am Tired Of Knowing Nothing And Being Reminded Of It All The Time.

The Mind Of A Little Child Is Fascinating, For It Looks On Old Things With New Eyes-but At About Twelve This Changes. The Adolescent Offers Nothing, Can Do Nothing, Say Nothing That The Adult Cannot Do Better.