“You won't die, Francie. You were born to lick this rotten life.”

“Do you hear that, Francie? You're in college! 'oh gosh, I feel sick.”

“Well' Francie decided, 'I guess the thing that is giving me this headache is life - and nothing else but'.”

“Well," Francie decided, "I guess the thing that is giving me this headache is life-and nothing else but.”

“Francie looked at her legs. They were long, slender, and exquisitely molded. She wore the sheerest of flawless silk stockings, and expensively made high-heeled pumps shod her beautifully arched feet. "Beautiful legs, then, is the secret of being a mistriss," concluded Francie. She looked down at her own long thin legs. "I'll never make it, I guess." Sighing , she resigned herself to a sinless life.”

“Neeley came home and he and Francie were sent out for the weekend meat. This was an important ritual and called for detail instructions by mama.”

“Then I've been drunk, too," admitted Francie."On beer?""No. Last spring, in McCarren's Park, I saw a tulip for the first time in my life.”