July 2011
44 posts
“Somehow, it was hotter then: a black dog suffered on a summer’s day; bony mules hitched to Hoover carts flicked flies in the sweltering shade of the live oaks on the square. Men’s stiff collars wilted by nine in the morning. Ladies bathed before noon, after their three-o’clock naps, and by nightfall were like soft teacakes with frostings of sweat and sweet talcum.”
—Harper Lee
“They don’t break a trophy in half and give it to you July 19.”
—Clint Hurdle, keeping it in perspective.