“Pretty young Mrs. Hamilton, with her dimple and her jingling earbobs and her helpless little ways, blowing a man's face to a pulp and then burying him in a hastily scratched-out hole!” — Margaret Mitchell Copy Share Image
“Something else?" She huffed as she pushed from the table, grabbing her husband's empty coffee cup. "That's the nice way of saying they're bat shit crazy." "Hey!" Mr Hamilton's head whipped around, eyes dancing. "You listen here, woman." "You can… — J. Lynn Copy Share Image
