“But you raised a ruckus about and threatened to perform a Julius Caesarian on anybody on anybody who calls April the cruelest month- I was Damn born out of the loins of my father in the spring of April, you claimed. Surgeon, you stood up for the month of buds and bitches like a true Kuon Kunos”

“April is the cruelest month, breedinglilacs out of the dead land, mixingmemory and desire, stirringdull roots with spring rain.”

“First month honey. . .Next month pie. . .Third month. . .Get out here and work, you damn bitch, same as I.”

“April is the cruellest month, breedingLilacs out of the dead land, mixingMemory and desire, stirringDull roots with spring rain.Winter kept us warm, coveringEarth in forgetful snow, feedingA little life with dried tubers.Summer surprised us.”

“The sun was warm but the wind was chill.You know how it is with an April day.When the sun is out and the wind is still,You're one month on in the middle of May.But if you so much as dare to speak,a cloud come over the sunlit arch,And wind comes off a frozen peak,And you're two months back in the middle of March.”

“Um...Mercer? Haven't seen you in nearly a month. I was expecting something like, 'Oh Cross, love of my heart, fire of my loins, how I've longed--”