I bid them dance, I bid them sing, For the limpid glance Of my ladyling; For the gift to the Spring of a dewier Spring, For God's good grace of this ladyling!

I haven't put down roots in this town yet, 'cause I've got trouble making friends here.

[I]n the 575 days since [Oscar] Pistorius shot dead his girlfriend Reeva Steenkamp, there has been an unseemly scramble to construct revisionist histories, to identify evidence beneath that placid exterior of a pugnacious, hair-trigger personality.

A sinner like me who uses her fingers for “ringing the devil[’]s doorbell” has trouble actually determining whether these moms are in on the joke.