She Had Eyes Like Strange Sins.

When I Left Merle Was Wearing A Bungalow Apron And Rolling Pie Crust. She Came To The Door Wiping Her Hands On The Apron And Kissed Me On The Mouth And Began To Cry And Ran Back Into The House, Leaving The Doorway Empty [...] I Had A Funny Feeling As I Saw The House Disappear, As Though I Had Written A Poem And It Was Very Good And I Had Lost It And Would Never Remember It Again. (p. 262)

The English May Not Always Be The Best Writers In The World, But They Are Incomparably The Best Dull Writers.

It Was A Blonde. A Blonde To Make A Bishop Kick A Hole In A Stained-glass Window.

I Hung Up. It Was A Good Start, But It Didn’t Go Far Enough. I Ought To Have Locked The Door And Hidden Under The Desk.

You Can Have A Hangover From Other Things Than Alcohol. I Had One From Women.