Dying in vain isn't really all that bad since nearly everyone does it. It's the living in vain you really have to watch out for.
The eyes were large and gray and in a certain light looked soft, gentle, and even innocent. Then the light would change, the innocence would vanish, and the eyes looked like year-old ice.
The eyes were larger and gray and in a certain light looked soft, gentle, and even innocent. Then the light would change, the innocence would vanish, and the eyes looked like year-old ice.
The laugh came then, a marvelous honking hoorah so infectious that Dill felt it should be quarantined.
She was wearing a dark-red swimsuit consisting of two small triangles up above and a mere suggestion of something down below. If she took everything off, Dill thought, she would look a lot less naked.
I think she must have lived where all the sad poets live, in that secret place where everything hurts all the time.
