Get you gone, you dwarf; You minimus, of hindering knot-grass made; You bead, you acorn.

Patricia Florca, wearing black market Levis and a dark blue, collarless shirt, snapped open a Ronson lighter and put flame to a black market Marlboro. Lidia Cozma looked enviously at the cigarette's glowing tip. Want one? Patricia whispered. Lidia nodded and Patricia offered the pack. Lidia removed a Marlboro, and moments later both women were sending exhaled smoke toward a cloudless sky.

I remember him taking umbrage when he thought I was doubting his grandmother's skills so I am quick to pour oil on troubled waters.

These violent delights have violent ends.