Curse Words Quotes

If you want to get rid of the perceived meaning of curse words, you'll have to get rid of the feelings which bring their use, and that's not going to happen. ~ Orlando Winters

„I don't think you put the swear word in the right place, Grandpa," Teddy says. When Dad first came here, my boys would look shocked whenever Dad went Old-Faithful-profane, and I began to wonder if Lisa and I shouldn't swear more so Franklin and Teddy weren't so put off by curse words. ~ Jess Walter

Without thinking, Lillian let out a few curse words that caused Evie to blanch. One of Lillian's more questionable accomplishments was the ability to swear as fluently as a sailor, acquired from much time spent with her grandmother, who had worked as a washwoman at the harbor docks. ~ Lisa Kleypas

September knew a number of curse words, most of which she heard the girls at school saying in the bathrooms, in hushed voices, as if the words could make things happen just by being spoken, as if they were fairy words, and had to be handled just so. ~ Catherynne M Valente

Though he was scared even to look up, much less down, he raised his hands and caught the side of the gondola. With a stream of curse words known principally to the fourth class of the Accademia San Pietro in Rome, he pulled himself back. ~ Mark Helprin

Are you really reading that, or are you just trying to show off?" I asked, lowering myself into the seat.
He looked over the paper, opened his mouth, and a torrent of foreign words flew out.
"Okay, sorry, just asking. Wait, how many of those were curse words? ~ Myra McEntire

At school, I was this tomboy kid who just loved to hang out with her friends and learn curse words, trying to fit in with the cool kids and defending all the kids who got picked on. ~ Michelle Rodriguez

I once burned block-wide curse words into the streets of new york and declared cosmic jihad on the people of earth ~ Jason Aaron

With my jaw set, I take a deep breath and force a smile. "Can I help you with something?" I have no idea why my voice sounds as high as it does. Or why my heart is beating as fast as it is. Or how his cheekbones can be as perfect as they are.

"You can, actually," he says, his eyes twinkling.

Aw, Christ on a cupcake, he knows how to twinkle. I let out a string of curse words in my head, including a bunch that I've made up on the spot that are specifically related to how amazingly Chase Kelly fills a pair of jeans. ~ Laurelin Paige

Come on, let's go! Move your butter muffin butt!" "My what?" Mary asked with a surprised look. "Butter muffin butt," Aja said with a smile; her angelic face glowed. "And what is that supposed to mean?" Mary asked as she slid out of the truck seat. Aja wasn't far behind. "Well, I make it a point to never say curse words, and, well, butter muffin sounds as close to mother effin as I could think of," she said with an increased sweetness to her voice. ~ Nicole Renee Wyatt

I let out a helpless, frustrated noise that sounded like a combination of a cry and a growl. It took everything in me not to shout a stream of curse words. Seriously
out of all the things that could happen to me, I'd been the victim of a pickpocket? That wasn't supposed to happen
not to a spy. Not to me! ~ Embee

I rely on swearing just to communicate emotion, but I wanted to express the same feelings [in song] without using curse words. ~ Hutch Harris

Writers used to make such wonderful pictures without all that swearing, all that cursing. And now it seems that you can't say three words without cursing. And I don't think that's right. ~ Ernest Borgnine

Unlike most other language  -  which is stored in cerebral cortex, the brain's center for higher learning  -  curse words are stored in the limbic system, our most basic, lizard brain level. ~ Chelsea G. Summers

Some comics really thrive on being disrespectful, especially toward women, and it's somehow understood as edgy, but I'm the opposite. I've never liked curse words for that reason. ~ Bryan Callen

I had some jokes that were dirty. And some of it is when I started making appearances on Conan and Letterman back in the late '90s, I think. You had to remove the curse words, or you couldn't do some of the more explicit jokes. ~ Jim Gaffigan

How can you be scared of her? She's tiny with a pregnant belly." Nico belly laughed.

Kane lowered his voice. "I'm not scared of her. I'm scared of the hormones."

Nico matched his voice to Kane's in volume. "Why are you talking about them like they're a separate being?"

"They are a separate being," Kane stated. "They're pure fucking evil. Do you understand me? Evil."

Damien snickered. "Hormones don't go away, you know? Women are always hormonal, it just triples during pregnancy."

"Exactly, I just have to survive the next few weeks, then things will go back to the way they normally were."

Ryder guffawed. "You mean when Aideen spat curse words whenever she saw you?"

"Ahhh," Kane sighed. "The good ol' days. ~ L.A. Casey

Damnú air."
"You're cussing!"
"I refuse to admit to uttering bad words in any language." Patrick grinned and his teeth flashed white. "Jenny has been Googling German insults. I don't want her to look up Gaelic next."
Oh Lord. I tried not to think about what kind of information Jenny discovered in her search. "You let her Google curse words?"
"She said it was for educational purposes."
"Yeah, right. You are so fired as the baby-sitter. ~ Michele Bardsley

If the passage absolutely demands cursing, be moderate. A little of it goes a long way. I've seen beginning writers pepper curse words through sentence after sentence.

'If you don't -blanking- get your -blanking-blank-blank- in to this house this -blanking- minute, I'm going to -blank- your -blank- and nail it to the -blanking- door.'

Two things happen when I read this junk: I get bored and I get angry. I didn't pick up your book to read garbage. If this is as clever as you can be, I don't want to read your prose. In life if you met someone who spoke like this, you'd want to flee. Then why put this stuff on the page?

As near as I can determine, this abomination occurs because a writer is corrupted by the awful -blanking- dialog that movies inflict on us these days. It's also a sign of insecurity. The writer wonders if the dialog is strong enough and decides a lot of -blanking-blank- will do the trick.

Someone might object that this kind of dialog is realistic in certain situations--intense scenes involving policemen or soldiers for example. I can only reply that in my research I spend considerable time with policemen and soldiers. Few of them curse any more than a normal person would. This garbage isn't realistic. It merely draws attention to itself and holds back the story. Use it sparingly. ~ David Morrell

I realized, in removing or rewriting these jokes, that often the jokes weren't done or that I was using, for me, the curse words as kind of a crutch. So then I just started writing. ~ Jim Gaffigan

I'm not a guy who curses very much in my personal life. When I curse it sounds like a kid trying to be cool. But I think there are quite a few people, my father being one of them, who use curse words rather eloquently. ~ Justin Halpern

Charlie cursed in English as there are no really good Navajo curse words. ~ R. Allen Chappell

It's better to use a curse word than to hurt somebody else, I find. ~ Marilyn Manson

Racism is to the current era what unAmericanism was to the Fifties: a curse word that provides a handy substitute for logical thought. ~ Steve Sailer

something so single-minded. Never has he felt such a hunger to belong. In the rows of dormitories are cadets who talk of alpine skiing, of duels, of jazz clubs and governesses and boar hunting; boys who employ curse words with virtuosic skill and boys who talk about cigarettes named for cinema stars; boys who speak of "telephoning the colonel" and boys who have baronesses for mothers. ~ Anthony Doerr

Cursing numbs pain. The relationship between pain and cursing is not one-way (for example, stubbing your toe and letting out a stream of expletives in rage). Those expletives, in turn, affect our perceptions of pain. Through a series of creative experiments, scientists have found that the stronger the curse words people use while experiencing pain the higher their tolerance for that pain. Byrne notes, depressingly, that women who curse when in pain, however, are less well cared for by those around them. ~ Soraya Chemaly

It will just upset you."
No my freaking way! He didn't just tell me I'm weak to him, did he?
"Yes, Ian. Thanks for reminding me I am just a dang girl in your eyes." A string of not ladylike curse words went across the marquee of my brain.
"Be reasonable," he snipped out at me.
Oh.No.He.Didn't. "Reasonable caught a train to Canada. Meet her peeved counterpart who wants to snap boy parts off and sterilize them to spare the future generations of learning that equal doesn't mean jack squat." - Grace ~ Cyndi Goodgame

A string of very un-angelic curse words come to mind. ~ Cynthia Hand

However, embarrassment was quickly replaced with a completely different emotion all together when I heard him say the words that I knew I was never going to forget, "I'm going to marry that girl one day."
And in that moment ... I knew that I was falling in love. ~ Karli Perrin

I'm Italian and we curse a lot when we talk. ~ Lea Michele

Hugo pulled away from Rosie's teat. 'No one is allowed to touch my body without my permission.' His voice was shrill and confident. Hector wondered where he learnt those words. From Rosie? At child care? Were they community announcements on the frigging television? ~ Christos Tsiolkas

I have my warts. I sometimes say things that get me in trouble. In other words, I lead with my heart and not my head. That's the only chance we have against George Bush. ~ Howard Dean

Words can be meaningless. If they are used in such a way that no sharp conclusions can be drawn. ~ Richard Feynman

It is in our best interest to ... embark on a revolutionary change that will lead us away from oil dependency rather than drag our feet and suffer the costs of becoming growingly dependent on a diminishing resource.' Truer words were never written. ~ Albert Marrin

Students need to be reminded that revision isn't merely making a few cosmetic changes. Revision is seeing and then reseeing our words and practicing strategies that make a difference in our writing. ~ Georgia Heard

Now and then there are readings that make the hairs on the neck, the non-existent pelt, stand on end and tremble, when every word burns and shines hard and clear and infinite and exact, like stones of fire, like points of stars in the dark - readings when the knowledge that we shall know the writing differently or better or satisfactorily, runs ahead of any capacity to say what we know, or how. In these readings, a sense that the text has appeared to be wholly new, never before seen, is followed, almost immediately, by the sense that it was always there, that we the readers, knew it was always there, and have always known it was as it was, though we have now for the first time recognised, become fully cognisant of, our knowledge. ~ A.S. Byatt

By men's words we know them. ~ Marie De France

Here before you lies the memorial to St. Cefnogwr, though he is not buried here, of course." At her words, an uncanny knowing flushed through Katy and, crazy-of-crazy, transfixed her. "Why? Where is he?" Traci stepped forward, hand on her hip. A you're-right-on-cue look crossed the guide's face. She pointed to the ceiling. Traci scoffed. "I meant, where's the body?" Her American southern accent lent a strange contrast to her skepticism. Again, the tour guide's arthritic finger pointed upward, and a smile tugged at her lips, the smokers' wrinkles on her upper lip smoothing out. "That's the miracle that made him a saint, you see. Throughout the twelve hundreds, the Welsh struggled to maintain our independence from the English. During Madog's Rebellion in 1294, St. Cefnogwr, a noble Norman-English knight, turned against his liege lord and sided with the Welsh - " "Norman-English?" Katy frowned, her voice raspy in her dry throat. "Why would a Norman have a Welsh name and side with the Welsh?" She might be an American, but her years living in England had taught her that was unusual.

"The English nicknamed him. It means 'sympathizer' in Welsh. The knight was captured and, for his crime, sentenced to hang. As he swung, the rope creaking in the crowd's silence, an angel of mercy swooped down and - " She clapped her hands in one decisive smack, and everyone jumped. "The rope dangled empty, free of its burden. Proof, we say, of his noble cause. He's been venerated ever since ~ Angela Quarles

It makes you wonder where they all go, all the letters and notes, the thank-you cards and he birthday invitations, the little missives scrawled along the edges of grocery lists, the doodles on the cardboard backs of spiral-bound notebooks. All the messages, so important, so pressing, so necessary.
Maybe Wolf's right and they never really disappear. Even after they're crumpled and thrown away, they linger and become ghosts. Not the kind that hide up in the attic rattling your shutters, but the kind that follow you wherever you go, coming back to you like an echo, like when something leaves a bad taste in your mouth. I don't know if that's guilt or regret. ~ John David Anderson

All Christian preachers have to face this issue. Either we preach that human beings are rebels against God, under his just judgment and (if left to themselves) lost, and that Christ crucified who bore their sin and curse is the only available Saviour. Or we emphasize human potential and human ability, with Christ brought in only to boost them, and with no necessity for the cross except to exhibit God's love and so inspire us to greater endeavour. The former is the way to be faithful, the latter the way to be popular. It is not possible to be faithful and popular simultaneously. ~ John R.W. Stott

Faith is an excitement and an enthusiasm: it is a condition of intellectual magnificence to which we must cling as to a treasure, and not squander on our way through life in the small coin of empty words, or in exact and priggish argument. ~ George Sand

And a lot of times in slam poetry I feel like people are so worried about the performance that the words might not be as strong. ~ Amber Tamblyn

Tired of all who come with words, words but no language
I went to the snow-covered island.
The wild does not have words.
The unwritten pages spread themselves out in all directions!
I come across the marks of roe-deer's hooves in the snow.
Language, but no words. ~ Tomas Transtromer

How do we negotiate between my history and yours? How would it be possible for us to recover our commonality, not the ambiguous imperial-humanist myth of those shard human (and indeed also most divine) attributes that are supposed to distinguish us absolutely from animals but, more significant, the imbrications of our various pasts and presents, the ineluctable relationships of shred and contested meanings, values, and material resources? It is necessary to assert our dense particularities, our lived and imagined differences; but can we afford to leave untheorized the question of how our differences are intertwined and, indeed, hierarchically organized? Could we, in other words, afford to have entirely different histories, to see ourselves living - and having lived - in entirely heterogenous and discrete spaces? ~ Satya P. Mohanty

He ran a hand over his face and shook his head. "Lass, I have never lied to you. I adore you and there have never been any other women from the future here. And these"- he flung a tampon in the air- "cleaning swabs, I cannot fathom why they upset you so greatly, but I assure you I have never let the maids use them."
Lisa's brow furrowed. No man could be so stupid. "Cleaning Swabs?"
He snatched up a gun and jerked the barrel in her direction, and an unwrapped tampon shot out. It was coated with black from the slow corrosion of the steel. She eyed it for a moment, bent, and plucked it from the floor. "You clean your guns with these?"
He lowered the gun. "Is that not the purpose for which they were designed? I vow I could not conceive of another."
Didn't you read the box?"
There were too many words I didn't understand! ~ Karen Marie Moning

Ah, I found you." Came a voice behind me. My heart skipped a beat as a smile spread across my face. How do I already know his voice?
'My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words of thy tongue's uttering, yet I know the sound.' I remembered the line from Romeo and Juliet. I could not forget Ariston's voice if I tried. At the sound, all thoughts of the odd occurrence faded.
I turned around to see Ariston Crete walking towards me. I realized when I saw him that there was a part of my mind that had wondered if he was real, if I had not only imagined his beauty, but clearly I had not. Somehow, he is real, right down to his ancient eyes. It felt just as indescribable to look into his eyes as it had before. ~ Jasmine Dubroff

Beware of greed and remain pure and just. Restrain yourself from every vice. He who cannot restrain himself, how will he be able to teach others restraint? ~ Polycarp

And that dismal cry rose slowly And sank slowly through the air, Full of spirit's melancholy And eternity's despair; And they heard the words it said,- "Pan is dead! great Pan is dead! Pan, Pan is dead!" ~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Sacredness and profanity and prayers and wishes: they're all held together by the broken limbs of this dead tree, raking the night sky with its blackened branches. We are so small, the two of us. The tree and sky are so large and grand. We could fail so easily, fall before we've begun to rise. ~ Elora Bishop

Sometimes you're drowning yourself in your own words. ~ Steve Maraboli

Owing to the vibratory power of words, whatever man voices, he begins to attract. ~ Florence Scovel Shinn

I still can't wrap my mind around crossing that line of human behavior – civilized people punching and fighting, making violence their communication of choice.

Is it because I'm a woman, I've never considered hitting someone who acted inappropriately? Even one of my best male friends, a gentle man, a believer in spirit and mankind, has thrown a few punches in his time.

As a writer, my weapons are words. The thought of hurting someone physically to prove my point has never and will never be an option for me. Well, let me amend that: if someone hurt my child in front of me, tiger-mother's claws would come out. ~ Rachel Thompson

Kestrel, this isn't you."
She pressed back against the chill glass. "I don't know what you mean."
"This voice you've been using, that bright one...do you think I don't recognize it? It's the sound of you laying a trap. Of you hiding behind your own words. And I know that the way you've been talking is not you. Say what you want about me, about what happened between us, about the shape of the sun and the color of the grass and any other truths in this world you want to deny. Deny everything until the gods strike you down. But you can't say that I don't know you." He was now close enough that the air between them was alive against Kestrel's skin. "I... have thought about you." His voice dropped. "I have thought about how I have never known you to be dishonest with me. ~ Marie Rutkoski

ONE MORE CHNCE. Words that my mother heard, more than once. Words that women debate. Whether you CAN forgive and whether you SHOULD trust. I think of all the judgment from society, friends, and family, the overwhelming consensus seeming to be that you should not grant someone who betrayed you a second chance. That you should do everything you can to keep the knife out of your back, and to protect your heart and pride. Cowards give second chances. Fools give second chances. And I am no coward, no fool. ~ Emily Giffin

The few psychiatrists I respect always talk about people being mad. Use the short, simple, true words... "Mad" has the right sound to it. It's an ordinary word, a word which tells us how lunacy might come and call like a delivery van. ~ Julian Barnes

If you present your dog to a veterinarian with the instruction to put him to sleep, you would normally mean something very different than you would upon taking your wife or husband to an anesthesiologist with the same words. ~ Raymond Moody

I may feel that without some recognizability I cannot live. But I may also feel that the terms by which I am recognized make life unlivable. This is the juncture from which critique emerges, where critique is understood as an interrogation of the terms by which life is constrained in order to open up the possibility of different modes of living; in other words, not to celebrate difference as such but to establish more inclusive conditions for sheltering and maintaining life that resists models of assimilation. ~ Judith Butler

I know many people on the left are suspicious of words like Americanization. To them, it can sound like a cover for white privilege and warmongering. It suggests arrogance and groupthink. But these connotations are not fixed. It is in our power to reshape them by recalling the best of America. ~ Eric Liu

Bertrand Russell used to employ the method of evidence against interest; in other words of deciding that a critique of capital punishment, say, carried more weight if it came from a prison governor. (My friend John O'Sullivan puts it like this: If the pope says he believes in God, he's only doing his job; if he says he doesn't believe in God, he may be on to something.) ~ Christopher Hitchens

Let go of what was and embrace what to be. ~ Lailah Gifty Akita

We're basking in language itself. The silence of my friend. My love. The one beyond words in her silence. She is always eternally before. When she speaks it is shit, a gift, something to do. In our moment, of waiting, pointing, silent gear, what we went out for - that is pointing. Shit is the award. The award is shit. ~ Eileen Myles

Valentine
my friends stitched it up with golden thread
like a red
satin pillow they gave me other whole ones too
roses and charms and red candles
milagros to repair the real one
they told me i was no longer allowed to give it away
a pretty pin cushion
a piece of mexican folk art
a hundred beating poems left unanswered
like a thing to wear around the neck
they said you must heal we will protect you
but i sat weeping at the computer forging ahead anyway
with the small stitched thing struggling in my chest
it knew that it had needed to be torn
so that it could recognize and receive the hundred kindnesses
traveling across three thousand miles at the speed of light
a storm of petals and beautiful words and tiny hearts to keep it
company ~ Francesca Lia Block

He patted her hand. "But I will settle for an amiable wife." It was as close to making a declaration of his intentions as he'd come.
So of course Mr. Pinter chose that inopportune moment to enter the breakfast room. "And whose amiable wife are you settling for, sir?" he said in a snide tone.
His gaze dropped to the viscount's hand resting on hers, then darkened. She resisted the urge to snatch her hand free.
The viscount bristled, tightening his hand almost possessively on hers. "Do I know you, sir?"
"Not yet. The name is Jackson Pinter." He came to stand directly across the table and bent forward over it to offer his hand to Lord Basto, forcing the viscount to release her hand to take it. "Some would call me Mrs. Plumtree's 'lackey,'" he added with a side glance at Celia. "Though I work for Lord Stoneville."
She colored, remembering the conversation they'd had a few months ago, when she'd called him that. He was clearly spoiling for a fight. No doubt he was still smarting over her pulling a pistol on him last night. "Mr. Pinter does investigations of all kinds," she explained. "For money."
Mr. Pinter's slate-gray eyes bore into her. "Some of us cannot live on our family's fortune, my lady."
"While some of us are very fond of biting the hand that feeds them." If he could throw her past words at her, then she could throw back what he'd said to her months ago.
She was surprised when a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. "A hit direct, mad ~ Sabrina Jeffries

For the prose artist the world is full of other people's words, among which he must orient himself and whose speech characteristics he must be able to perceive with a very keen ear. He must introduce them into the plane of his own discourse, but in such a way that this plane is not destroyed. ~ Mikhail Bakhtin

Dooku chose his next words carefully. "Qui-Gon returned from Tatooine with a former slave boy. According to the boy's mother, the boy had no father. ~ James Luceno

Maybe it was I who needed to learn how to be quiet instead of cluttering the moment with too many words. ~ Alice Steinbach

The collaboration really begins once the rehearsal starts. This is when the actor takes his place, because he becomes the one who is going to bring the words of the author off the page. ~ Angela Lansbury

When you look in the mirror, it's usually to fix your hair or put on makeup. To examine your body searching for problem areas. We look at ourselves to see the flaw, not beauty. And we look at predictable times, in the morning, after using the bathroom, before bed. We hardly ever see ourselves when we aren't prepared for inspection. But only when you're unprepared can you see your true self, your true beauty. ~ Valerie Frankel

Like flies in amber, like corpses frozen in ice, that which according to the laws of nature should pass away is, by the miracle of ink on paper, preserved. It is a kind of magic. As one tends the graves of the dead, so I tend the books. And every day I open a volume or two, read a few lines or pages, allow the voices of the forgotten dead to resonate inside my head. ~ Diane Setterfield

Minsk! How pissed-off that sounded! It was great. You could scare the bejayzus out of someone if you said it right. ~ Marian Keyes

I'm fighting against the bad poet who is prone to using too many words. ~ Wislawa Szymborska

Way I see it, we've got two choices. Try and use these bastards, or kill 'em all. Hard words have never won a battle yet, but they've lost a few. You mean to kill a man, telling him so don't help. ~ Joe Abercrombie

the ultimate meaning of words cannot be found in what the listener hears but in what he listens to upon hearing ~ Ernest Agyemang Yeboah

What do you know about me? What do you know about love that comes into a life in which everything has become questionable? What is your cheap intoxication compared to that? When falling and falling suddenly changes, when the endless Why becomes the final You, when like a fata morgana above the desert of silence feeling suddenly arises, takes shape, and inexorably the delusion of the blood becomes a landscape compared with which all dreams are pale and commonplace? A landscape of silver, a city of filigree and rose quartz, shining like the bright reflection of blooming blood - what do you know about it? Do you think that one can talk about it so easily? That a glib tongue can quickly press it into a cliché of words or even of feelings? What do you know about graves that open and how one stands in dread of the many colorless empty nights of yesterday - yet they open and no skeletons now lie bleaching there, only earth is there, earth, fertile seeds, and already the first green. What do you know about that? You love the intoxication, the conquest, the Other You that wants to die in you and that will never die, you love the stormy deceit of the blood, but your heart will remain empty because one cannot keep anything that does not grow from within oneself. And not much can grow in a storm. It is in the empty nights of loneliness that it grows, if one does not despair. What do you know about it? ~ Erich Maria Remarque

I felt despair. The word's overused and banalified now, despair, but it's a serious word, and I'm using it seriously. For me it denotes a simple admixture - a weird yearning for death combined with a crushing sense of my own smallness and futility that presents as a fear of death. It's maybe close to what people call dread or angst. But it's not these things, quite. It's more like wanting to die in order to escape the unbearable feeling of becoming aware that I'm small and weak and selfish and going without any doubt at all to die. It's wanting to jump overboard. ~ David Foster Wallace

Though Mrs. Gamely was by all measures prescientific and illiterate, she did know words. Where she got them was anyone's guess, but she certainly had them. Virginia speculated that the people on the north side of the lake, steeped in variations of English both tender and precise, had made with their language a tool with which to garden a perfect landscape. Those who are isolated in small settlements may not know of the complexities common to great cities, but their hearts are rich, and so words are generated and retained. Mrs. Gamely's vocabulary was enormous. She knew words no one had ever heard of, and she used words every day that had been mainly dead or sleeping for hundreds of years. Virginia checked them in the Oxford dictionary, and found that (almost without exception) Mrs. Gamely's usage was flawlessly accurate. For instance, she spoke of certain kinds of dogs as Leviners. She called the areas near Quebec march-lands. She referred to diclesiums, linipoops, rapparees, dagswains, bronstrops, caroteels, opuntias, and soughs. She might describe something as patibulary, fremescent, pharisaic, Roxburghe, or glockamoid, and words like mormal, jeropigia, endosmic, mage, palmerin, thos, vituline, Turonian, galingale, comprodor, nox, gaskin, secotine, ogdoad, and pintulary fled from her lips in Pierian saltarellos. Their dictionary looked like a sow's ear, because Virginia spent inordinate proportions of her days racing through it, though when Mrs. Gamely was angry a staff of ~ Mark Helprin