“Why, lawks, Mrs. Jones!” said a woman of the lower type of lodging-house keeper, as she stood on the gravel walk and spoke to a middle-aged female on the lawn, whose clothes were as gaily coloured as a parrot’s, and who wore a Gampian bonnet trimmed with a flowerpotful of cabbage roses and a plume of ostrich feathers;

When the caller identified herself as from the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center in Seattle my heart zinged. I heard the words we had yearned for since March: They had found a donor marrow, mismatched at one antigen, that might work for Jane.

… As if his hand begrasp't already An iron-geddok; …

He got high after just one drag of the joint.