… turned to the buxomer, nakeder Mimi. 'I was just telling your friend. You know what they sayin New York?' 'No,' said Margaret ...

The way my parents and I believed and disbelieved in each other when I was little, the way we created and confused, encouraged and thwarted, loved and misloved each other, is a sad story.

You want to chate me! said Teddy, angrily.

[…] I beheld, in momentary sun, / One of thy hills gleam bright and bosomy, / Just like that orb of orbs, a human one, / Let forth by chance upon a lover's eye.