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Once, there was a poor wretch whose eyes and hair and even skin were often gray. Who ‘went to sleep in her dirt’ night after night for lack of a bathtub, for want of the ease of hauling water, or extra wood for heating the fire. And she was all the more sorrowful for thinking she was to blame for it...

The daylilies in my garden  are the rich yellow of mangoes,  (which I know because      I am eating one,         slice by slick, ripe...

I would like to know why this is hard, said the prince. I would like to know why the hedge is so thick and the thorns are so sharp, and...

Fatigue is a form of clutter...