Sublime

the warm sunshine, settling everywhere on the high hedges and the low hills, brought out into a kind of heavy bloom that HUMANE quality of the landscape which, as far as I know, only exists in England; that sense as if the bushes and the roads were human, and had kindness like men;

a dowdy dull girl, with one of those characteristic British faces that, once seen, are never remembered;

frangipanni.

She seemed to me, in her blond prettiness, so tender, so appealing, so bewitching, that it was impossible to believe he had not more thoughts for all this than for the pretty fortune which it yet bothered me to believe that he must, like a good Italian, have taken the exact measure of. His own worldly goods consisted of the paternal estate, a villa

Here was a shelf of nothing but Harry Potter, here, my worn copies of the Narnia books, there, my beloved Little House books (Santa Claus brought me one volume each Christmas for nine years). The Elizabeth Enright and Edward Eager books I’d read so many times. Mary Stoltz, who didn’t get the attention she deserved. Streatfield, Barrie, Canfield, Co