But the pinkness and whiteness of underskirts and camisoles, the frilliness of foundation garments, the rustle about the bustle and the fuss about the bust.

History is a long time in the making.

Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling porcupine,” she crooned. “Little critters fried like fritters come out crunchy and divine.

He spoke in one of the American accents; Lydia couldn’t distinguish among them. To her they all sounded dry and tinny. Almost quack-like.

Death might be the only way forward for someone. Or it might seem so at the time.

I would leave me were I him. I would leave myself if I could.

I’m a priest, I know better than most when a lie is permitted.

I just like to think about what I’m reading. Don’t you?” “I don’t read very well. So I don’t think I think very well either.” Galinda smiled. “I dress to kill, though.

It’s more convenient to have a hero waiting in the wings than to endure a blowhard standing in the spotlight.

She reasoned that because she was beautiful she was significant, though what she signified, and to whom, was not clear to her yet.