Oh, take it, take it; and don't say why! Of COURSE you're a little pig." Penrod laughed gratefully, his eyes fixed upon her over the rim of his uptilted glass.
"Fill yourself up uncomfortably," said the old lady.

"You're twelve years old, and you ought to be happy--if you aren't anything else.

It's taken over nineteen hundred years of Christianity and some hundreds of thousands of years of other things to produce you, and there you sit!" "Ma'am ?" "It'll be your turn to struggle and muss things up, for the betterment of posterity, soon enough," said Aunt Sarah Crim.

"Drink your lemonade!".