I drempt I was wound round tight as drum, hand and foot, with morning glory vines, and they was chokin' my neck same as they do the corn. I drempt I had cockleburrs stuck in my hair like a pincushion ...

Joffre was a true viscerotonic, and this was the source of his principal strengths and weaknesses.

Perhaps, from an innate desire of justification, sorrow always exaggerates itself.

[…] I kept hoping for the film to spin back to the moment where my aunt materialized asparkle with the gems previously the property of the rabbi's late wife.