My name is Lucille. The man sat down heavily, crowding the girl's body against Mr. Munn. You call her Sukie like I said, he ordered. Now, Mr. Munn, the girl asked, leaning back so she could look up at him from under the brim of her large straw hat with its blue ribbons, do you see how he can make Sukie out of a name like Lucille?

The nature-lover who lives with his fields and skies simply puts himself in the way of the most and gentlest of such inspirations.

He […] made abstruse calculations as to the flight of balls off sloped club-faces, as to the foot-poundals of energy exercised by one muscle or the other, and as to theories of spin.

We were Jews—and not only were we not inferior to the goyim who beat us at football, but the chances were that because we could not commit our hearts to victory in such a thuggish game, we were superior!