“Sorry I'm late," Ms. Egami said to the class. She dropped her papers, which scattered in that special way papers do when one is running late.”

“... had ideas, crazy, late-night fantasies strung together like a paper-clip chain.”

“Hi, Princess. Sorry I'm late. Traffic was a bitch.”

“They didn’t hold Frankie as she sobbed for hours at a time without talking. They didn’t make sure she ate even when she wasn’t hungry. They didn’t do her homework when she couldn’t concentrate, or explain to our teachers why she was late to every class.”

“I'm sitting on the lumbering late bus, thinking about the way I'm going to start my Monday: by filling out an unexcused absence form for the cranky secretary. The last time the bus was late she actually told me, "Don't tell me the bus was late. That excuse won't work anymore today. About ten kids ahead of you said that their bus was late, too." I tried to explain that we all took the same bus, but there was no pulling the wool over her eyes. She wasn't born yesterday.”

“You're late,' he said.'I'm beautiful.''You're always beautiful.''I'm always late too.”