“When I was young and had no senseIn far-off MandalayI lost my heart to a Burmese girlAs lovely as the day.Her skin was gold, her hair was jet,her teeth were ivory;I said, "For twenty silver pieces,Maiden, sleep with me."She looked at me, so pure, so sad,The loveliest thing alive,And in her lisping, virgin voice,Stood out for twenty-five.”

“So I told her that I loved her, not for telling me the thing she had told me, but for the courage involved in telling something like it, something that sad.”

“Stay put,” he said. “I don’t want you setting off any explosives that’ll get us both killed.”“Let me go with you.”“I don’t want you getting hurt, Red.”There was something about the sound of his voice that gave her pause. “Don’t tell me you care.”He ruffled her hair as though she were four instead of twenty-five. “All right, I won’t. Just stay put.”

“When my mama was twenty-five she already had an old woman's hands, and I feared them. I did not know then what it was that scared me so. I've come to understand since that it was the thought of her growing old, of her dying and leaving me alone. I feared those brown spots, those wrinkles and cracks that lined her wrists, ankles, and the soft shadowed sides of her eyes.”

“She looked fresh and young and very beautiful. I thought I had never seen any one so beautiful. ‘Hello,’ I said. When I saw her I was in love with her. Everything turned over inside of me”

“She was a lovely blonde, with fine teeth. She had gold and pearls for her dowry; but her gold was on her head, and her pearls were in her mouth.”