“You really romanticize the white-trash period of your life,' Rain once said to me, which I thought was a little hurtful but perhaps true.”

“I'm really white trash. ”

“In a word, God paints in many colors; but he never paints so gorgeously, I had almost said so gaudily, as when He paints in white. In a sense our age has realized this fact, and expressed it in our sullen costume. For if it were really true that white was a blank and colorless thing, negative and non-committal, then white would be used instead of black and grey for the funereal dress of this pessimistic period. Which is not the case.Meanwhile I could not find my chalk.”

“The others can’t see me,” said the little ghost.“I know,” I said. “My name’s Gwyneth. What’s yours?”“Dr. White to you,” said Dr. White.“I’m Robert,” said the ghost.“That’s a very nice name,” I said.“Thank you,” said Dr. White. “I’ll return the compliment by saying you have very nice veins.”

“Memory's images, once they are fixed in words, are erased," Polo said. "Perhaps I am afraid of losing Venice all at once, if I speak of it, or perhaps, speaking of other cities, I have already lost it, little by little.”

“They weren't hours, these classes; they weren't even forty-five minutes--they were "periods," which sounded to me as if they were each at once a little era and then the end you had to see decisively put to it.”