`` I know '', Jones said dejectedly.

I don't know yet, it's crazy ; ;

`` I know him.

I don't know what goes on around here, and I don't care.

I don't know what makes you think you can get away with this kind of business, and I don't care about that, either.

My future lay solely with the hall, yet what did I know about the hall at this point??

I wished to prepare myself but did not even know what sort of clothes I ought to be wearing.

`` I know you've got a grudge against me, and maybe I can't blame you.

`` I don't know, Tom.

`` I don't know, Mr. Brenner '', he said haltingly, beginning to get an inkling of Brenner's plans.

I don't know what you're up to, but when Brenner '' --

`` I don't know nothin' about him ''.

I suppose you don't know anything about a piece of two-by-four, either ; ;

`` I know you ain't ''!!

I said, `` Do we know each other, Miss ''??

He caught up with me once and grabbed me, but I was all covered with zing -- it's very slippery, you know ''.

`` I didn't know.

`` How would I know??

True, she was my Aunt, married to an Uncle related to me only by marriage, but why she had married a man twice her age, and more, perhaps, I did not know or much care.

Why she married him I do not know.

`` I know.

An inscription seemingly carved into the wall above the skeleton reads: " IO FUI GIA QUEL CHE VOI SIETE E QUEL CH ' IO SONO VOI ANCO SARETE " ( I once was what now you are and what I am, you shall yet be ).

) Fouad Boulemia, a leading GIA member, was sentenced to death on August 1, 2004 ( for the second time ; he had also been found guilty of killing FIS leader Abdelkader Hachani ) for involvement in the massacre .< ref >.< 1 -- The link still works, but it points to an empty page, so its as good as dead --> The local GIA leader, Laazraoui, was shot dead in October 1997, as another GIA member, Rachid " Djeha " Ould Hamrane, had been earlier ; the latter's sister, Nacira, was imprisoned, and was quoted by Le Matin as saying that " At Bentalha, they cut the throats, I collected jewellery from the corpses ," adding that " To save the families of the ' terrorists ,' I pointed out the homes of sympathizers who should not be massacred.

It's bigger than it has to be, though I don't see where it's doing any harm.

I worked for my Uncle ( an Uncle by marriage so you will not think this has a mild undercurrent of incest ) who ran one of those antique shops in New Orleans' Vieux Carre, the old French Quarter.

But a young American has a bath next to his room and I shall ask him if you might use it this once.

Besides I heard her old uncle that stays there has been doin' it ''.

But in our case -- and neither my wife nor I have extreme views on integration, nor are we given to emotional outbursts -- the situation has ruined one or two valued friendships and come close to wrecking several more.

`` Now that Bruno Walter is virtually in retirement and my dear friend Dimitri Mitropoulos is no longer with us, I am probably the only one -- with the possible exception of Leonard Bernstein -- who has this special affinity for and champions the works of Bruckner and Mahler ''.

I think that we are here also talking of the kind of fear that a young boy has for a group of boys who are approaching at night along the streets of a large city.

I believe that what I do has some effect on his actions and I have learned, in a way, to commune with drunks, but certainly my actions seem to resemble more nearly the performance of a rain dance than the carrying out of an experiment in physics.

The persistent horror of having a malformed child has, I believe, been reduced, not because we have gained any control over this misfortune, but precisely because we have learned that we have so little control over it.

The traditional strategy of the South has been to expose the vices of the North, to demonstrate that the North possessed no superior virtue, to `` show the world that '' as James's Christopher Newman said to his adversaries ) `` however bad I may be, you're not quite the people to say it ''.

A dear, respected friend of mine, who like myself grew up in the South and has spent many years in New England, said to me not long ago: `` I can't forgive New England for rejecting all complicity ''.

Socialism, I grant, has a definite place in our society.

This combined experience, on a foundation of very average, I assure you, intelligence and background, has helped me do things many well-informed people would bet heavily against.

I have argued that Oedipus of the Oedipus complex has a doubtful future as a tragic figure in literature.

In recollection he has said: `` Natural or man-made objects kept coming into my head, but I would suppress them sternly ''.

It is to say rather, I believe, that he has brought to bear on the history, the traditions, and the lore of his region a critical, skeptical mind -- the same mind which has made of him an inveterate experimenter in literary form and technique.

The fact that he has cast over those materials the light of a skeptical mind does not make him any the less Southern, I rather think, for the South has been no more solid than other regions except in the political and related areas where patronage and force and intimidation and fear may produce a surface uniformity.

A useful comment on his relation to his region may be made, I think, by noting briefly how in handling Southern materials and Southern problems he has deviated from the pattern set by other Southern authors while remaining faithful to the essential character of the region.

The myth of the Southern plantation has had only a tangential relation with actuality, as Francis Pendleton Gaines showed forty years ago, and I suspect it has had a far narrower acceptance as something real than has generally been supposed.