“…a waitress came out and plonked in front of each of us a small standard terra-cotta flowerpot in which had been baked a little loaf of bread. "What's this?" I asked. "It's bread," she replied. "But it's in a flowerpot?"… — Bill Bryson Copy Share Image
“And let her loves, when she is dead Write this above her bones, "No more she lives to give us bread Who asked her only stones.” — Dorothy Parker Copy Share Image
