The pollen I stirred while cutting the grass and the dust I dislodged while deshelving the books had kicked my allergies into overdrive, and I felt dizzy and disconnected as I drove down the long, mostly empty stretch of pine-tree-lined highway toward Pottersville.

[…] the first night seems to be playing a strong role in the development of the pioneer for the relationship.

Thus, the myths of cinema and syndicated cartoon have served to unite the diverse races far more than the clump of the cricket-ball and the clipped rebukes and laudations of their masters.

If there be any evil in novels at all, it is when they take people from their business—when they occupy a mother's time to the neglect of her children—when they lead idle boys to neglect their lessons, and when they lead idle gentlefolks to fancy themselves employed, when they are only killing time.