“June cackled with delight, muttering, "Whoops!" as a car almost killed them.”
“I almost died, this past June. But I didn't. End of story.”
“It's going to snow on the mountains," she warned him."Ew, snow," I muttered to myself. It was June, for crying out loud."Wear a jacket.”
“So familiar are eggs to us, however, that in the eighteenth century they were referred to as cackling farts, on the basis that chickens cackled all the time and eggs came out of the back of them.”
“What a thrill, what a shock, to be alive on a morning in June, prosperous, almost scandalously privileged, with a simple errand to run.”
“Shoulda, woulda, coulda. They were the Three Stooges of regret. All they were good for was saying whoop-whoop-whoop and smacking each other over the head.”