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— Elsa Barker"I, Woman, am that wonder-breathing rose That blossoms in the garden of the King."
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My problem with L. A. was that I could see the air I was breathing, I don't particularly like crowds, and I was much better at snowboarding than I was at surfing.
— Frederick Lenz
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Our story opens in the mind of Luther L. (L for LeRoy) Fliegler, who is lying in his bed, not thinking of anything, but just aware of sounds, conscious of his own breathing, and sensitive to his own heartbeats. Lying beside him is his wife, lying on her right side and enjoying her sleep.
— John O'Hara
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