His mother had too much God in her. - John Fante

Dear little Vivian, all the way from the clean fields of Minnesota, and not a Swede either, and almost a virgin too, just a few men short of being a virgin.

Then she tried to show me how to hold the gun. I jerked it away from her, flung the barrel recklessly in all directions.

Far away like frightened birds, the echo of our feet floated through the upper floors. We climbed three flights of stairs and proceeded the length of another hall. At the end was a door. The Negro opened it.