Sooner or later everything you thought you'd left behind comes around again. For good or ill, it comes around again.

The dream might have been more than a dream. It was as if a door in the wall of reality had come ajar... and now all sorts of unwelcome things were flying through.

Did-a-chick? Dum-a-chum? Dad-a-cham? Ded-a-chek?

Teaching school is like having jumper cables hooked to your brain, draining all the juice out of you.

I think what you do is, you keep your sensors open. And it's - the more that you do the job, the more you come to understand in a kind of intuitive way that you're always - you know, your radar is on. And the thing is going around and around and around. And it's not picking up any blips.

Just the act of cooking made her feel better, because cooking was life.

They were close to the end of the beginning . . .