She would lean her head for hours on Beatrice's shoulder, only now and then applying to her some childish and endearing epithet.

Spines are aborted branches.

When I was a little girl, if they ever called me a backward child they must have meant a looking-backward child; for I grew up to claim the proud title of the world’s champion nostalgist.

The car went a short distance, then halted. There was something wrong with the carburetor.