‘Mother,’ that’s a civil-service category, Mothers work for Them! They’re the policemen of the soul…
And then:
- Lolita, or the Confession of a White Widowed Male Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking...
- Eleanor Rigby The print on the elevator’s DOOR CLOSE button was almost worn off. I pointed it out to Mother and said,...
- Cry, The Beloved Country - I’ve spoken to Mary, he said to me. She and I agree that it’s more important to speak the...
- La Bonne Chanson The morning sun serenely warms and gilds The rye and corn still damp in dewy fields, The sky has kept...
- Cry, The Beloved Country Therefore I shall devote myself, my time, my energy, my talents, to the service of South Africa. I shall no...
- The Grapes of Wrath Beside them, little pot-bellied men in light suits and panama hats; clean, pink men with puzzled worried eyes, with restless...
