There's just this….an hour here or there when our lives seem, against all odds and expectations, to burst open and give us everything we've ever imagined.

“And if literature is not the Bride and Bedfellow of Truth, what is she? 'Confou…”

“...made up, as one makes up the better part of life...making oneself up; ...cre…”

“Such she often felt herself--struggling against terrific odds to maintain her c…”

“A wild, wick slip she was”