“Somewhere, in some shadowy bedroom of a leaf-strewn town, a father bolts the door to a child's room, then steps closer to the bed. In a neighbor's garden lurks a weed with a funny, blade-petaled flower, its poison choking the… — Scott Heim Copy Share Image
It is assumed that the woman must wait, motionless, until she is wooed. That is how the spider waits for the fly. — George Bernard Shaw Copy Share Image
