Whether this heavenly thing whereof I treat, / To weeten Mercie, be of Justice part, / Or drawne forth from her by divine extreate […]

I wish you could relent.” “Just love the early morning sunshine, Jer-bear.” His face clouds. “Please explain this name to me. 'Jer-bear'?” “Well, there's this cartoon and there are these bears, right?” “Okay. That explains part of it.”

The stage ought to be here, said Miranda, glancing nervously at the tall clock for the twentieth time. I guess everything's done. I've tacked up two thick towels back of her washstand and put a mat under her slop-jar; but children are awful hard on furniture. I expect we sha'n't know this house a year from now.

Maybe you could, I don't know, directly talk to her about it instead of complaining to me for once?