I want to be a footballer - and that means playing on a Saturday afternoon.
The language of Cat's generation was far harder than that of her own, and more pithily correct: in their terms, he was a hunk. But why, she wondered, should anybody actually want a hunk, when non-hunks were so much more interesting?
As for literary criticism in general: I have long felt that any reviewer who expresses rage and loathing for a novel or a play or a poem is preposterous. He or she is like a person who has put on full armor and attacked a hot fudge sundae or a banana...
Harrogate saw them going along Blount Avenue Sunday morning. They wore outfits all cut from the same bolt of cloth and in the church pew standing six across they looked like a strip of gaudy wallpaper cut into those linked dolls madfolk pass their ti...
Athletics is in my blood.
It's not about the money for me.
Hitting is an art, but not an exact science.
A manager doesn't hear the cheers.
Television isn't my career. Business is.
I don't pitch for contracts.
Sunday is my favorite day.
There is but one game and that game is baseball.
The riches of the game are in the thrills, not the money.
Harvard was a kind of luxurious afternoon.
In the morning I don't want to know where I'll be in the afternoon.
I tired of the routine of eight years in one afternoon.
I spent most of this afternoon writing a new introduction for my autobiography.
Sonny: Sal? Ready to go?
I'm a gym rat; I love my hour-long afternoon sessions with my trainer.
The greatest luxury is being able to go to movies and plays now and then in the afternoons.
Tea! Bless ordinary everyday afternoon tea!
