And you wanted no part of me when I had so much to give.

As I dug in behind one of the bales we were using as protection, I grudgingly found myself agreeing with Oso's logic, especially when I imagined what would have happened to Missy if Old Knife's large party of screeching warriors had overrun our company.

In the brief moment I had to talk to them before I took my post on the ring of defenses, I indicated I was sickened by the methods men employed to live and trade on the river.

Next to him was a young boy I was sure had sat near me at one of the trading sessions.

At first I thought he had missed.

I saw the clergyman kneel for a moment by the twitching body of the man he had shot, then run back to his position.

Later I would remember what this pompous little man had told me about the worth of a ticket.

One afternoon, upon receiving permission and the necessary instructions from the clerk, I had visited the toilet adjoining the hall.

For although I had crossed a corner of the hall on my way to the toilet I still could not tell for sure how far to the rear the darkness extended.

I could observe the two fans down at the end, but their size in themselves meant nothing to me as long as I had no measure of comparison.

I had for some time been hoping, in vain, for one of the dim figures to pass between the fan vents and myself.

It was, I felt, possible that they were men who, having received no tickets for that day, had remained in the hall, to sleep perhaps, in the corners farthest removed from the counter with its overhead light.

And I had hardly finished my business in the toilet on the aforementioned occasion when the lights in that place, like the hall lights controlled from the switch in the office, flicked off and on impatiently.

I had signed it off on the forms.

Although I had been inside it I had not yet seen it functioning.

I had the impression that he had read my forms, perhaps several times.

Looking back I saw a gray-haired man getting out of his halted car and trying to read our license number.

If it were not for an old professor who made me read the classics I would have been stymied on what to do, and now I understand why they are classics ; ;

`` When I was in college '', I grinned, `` I remember a poem I had to read in my lit class.

It would be profitable, I believe, to read these realistic humorists alongside Faulkner's works, the thought being not that he necessarily read them and owed anything to them directly, but rather that they dealt a hundred years ago with a class of people and a type of life which have continued down to our time, to Faulkner's time.

`` My mother read a book right after I was born and there was a Lilian in the book she loved and I became Lilian -- and eventually I became Paula ''.

I was familiar with Pilgrim's Progress, which I read as literature.

A few weeks ago, I read in the Bulletin that there were to be given Chinese classes in Cranston.

The following week, I read in the Sunday paper that the students of Russia begin European and Asian languages in the seventh grade.

Sir -- I read of a man who felt he should not build a fallout shelter in his home because it would be selfish for him to sit secure while his neighbors had no shelters.

Our litterbug ordinances are not enforced and I have yet to read of a conviction in a littering case.

I would hope that Sargent Shriver will encourage everyone entering the Peace Corps to read it.

`` I have read an advance copy of the Snow book which is to be titled, ' Science And Government.

Then epistolatory me was a foreign correspondent dispatching exciting cables and communiques, full of dash and wit and glamor, quoting from the books I read, imitating the grand styles of the authors recommended by a teacher in whose special, after-school class I was enrolled.

I made inquiries, I read a book of etiquette.

Personally, I don't blame him for giving up the dive, much as I regret losing the story ''.

But on one occasion when I encountered a similar fantasy in a little boy who was my patient I began to understand the uncanny effects of this story.

The rocking, I realized, is the single element in the story that carries the erotic message, the unspoken and unconscious undercurrent that would mar the innocence of a child's fantasy and disturb the effects of the work if it were made explicit.

I am sure that none of the effects of this story were consciously employed by Lawrence to describe an oedipal fantasy in childhood.

and, `` I do think that families are the most beautiful things in all the world '', burst out Jo some five hundred pages later in that popular story of the March family, which had first appeared when Henrietta was eight ; ;

-- In reply to a letter in Today's `` Voice '' urging the sale of meat after 6 p.m., I wish to state the other side of the story.

I wrote a few years ago that one of the cardinal rules of writing is that the reader should be able to get some idea of what the story is about.

Immediately thereafter, the patient fractures her rehearsed story, veering into an oversoft, breathy, sloppily articulated, `` I don't feel like talking right now ''.

`` There are things about me that I can't tell you now, Mary Jane '', I said, `` but if you'll go out to dinner with me when I get out of Hanover, I'd like to tell you the whole story.

If I could call in, they could check the story while we were on our way.

Either I get the story -- or I get the suite ''.

I visited the bank in March and wrote a story about the situation.

`` When you pile your `` guy '' on the bonfire tomorrow night, I wonder how much of the true story of Guy Fawkes you will remember??

I make this observation about the lady, Miss Judy Garland, because she brought up the subject herself in telling a story about a British female reporter who flattered her terribly in London recently and then wrote in the paper the next day:

`` I heard a story once about a rookie who got excited when the captain stepped outside and he couldn't get an encephalographic reading on him.

* AM, short for Allied Mastercomputer, a fictional supercomputer in the short story " I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream "

" Peter Heather agrees with Wood's implication in this instance: " I doubt that this is the full story, but the effects of Frankish intervention are clear enough.

According to the story recounted by Hermippus, he arrived at the house of Solon and said, " I have traveled here from afar to make you my friend.