“Good, strong knickers underneath your nightgown will inhibit access to the fertile crescent.”
“Unravel your knickers, lady”
“Bok strongly believed that good art should find a place in public buildings where large numbers of persons might find easy access to it.”
“When you assess your own life, consider it with the eye of a gardener. Underneath the surface lies rich, fertile soil waiting to nurture the seeds you sow. Even more than you can imagine will grow there if given a chance.”
“I’ve got it!” he declared suddenly, snapping his fingers in triumph. “Take your knickers off.” “What?” Did that mean what I think it did? “Your knickers. You know—panties, underwear, muff-huggers, nasty nets—”
“And you should not be out and about in your nightgown. There are Lightwoods wandering these halls.”