I love you, Louise Downe McCord. You drive me absolutely crazy sometimes, and this is one of those times, but I love you.
If you can read, you don’t ever have to be lonely.
Nothing in my life would mean anything if you weren’t here to share it. There’d be no reason to get up in the morning without you to light the sun with your smile.
A man could shoot a squirrel out of a tree from a distance of sixty feet. But he couldn’t vomit into a bucket or pee into a pot only two feet away. It was one of the great mysteries of life.
If I fall down the stairs,” she added in a low dry voice, “and end up sprawled at the bottom in front of all those swells, I’m going to pretend that I’m dead. You tell someone to haul me off to the nearest boardinghouse, then go have your supper.
She hadn’t dreamed a time would ever come when someone might want to emulate her talk or behavior. Consequently, it made her feel tight and strange inside to hear her words on the kid’s lips. A small part of her was astonished and secretly flattered. But a larger part was appalled.
Grinding her teeth together, she hoped the bastards weren’t cheering yet, because it was going to take more than one bullet to kill Jenny Jones.
And home was where you planted flowers in the expectation that you would be there to see them bloom year after year.
Things were progressing as expected, which was to say that she had lost control of her life. In.