“Madame Vbegins the lessonby reading aloud the first stanzaof a famous French poem:Il pleure dans mon coeurComme il pleut sur la ville;Quelle est cette langueurQui penetre mon coeur?Then she looks upand without any warningshe calls on me to translate it.I swallow hard, and try:"It's raining in my heartlike it's raining in the city.What is this sadness that pierces my heart?"Saying these words out loud,right in front of the whole class,makes me feellike I'm not wearing any clothes.”

“Tears are shed in my heart like the rain on the town.(Il pleure dans mon coeurComme il pleut sur la ville.)”

“It's raining in my heart, like it's raining in the city. What is this sadness that pierces my heart?”

“Ariette IIIIl pleure dans mon coeurComme il pleut sur la ville ;Quelle est cette langueurQui pénètre mon coeur ?Ô bruit doux de la pluiePar terre et sur les toits ! Pour un coeur qui s'ennuie,Ô le chant de la pluie !Il pleure sans raisonDans ce coeur qui s'écoeure.Quoi ! nulle trahison ?Ce deuil est sans raison.C'est bien la pire peineDe ne savoir pourquoiSans amour et sans haineMon coeur a tant de peine !”

“Il pleure dans mon coeur Comme il pleut sur la ville.”

“She flashes me a smile so devastating that it could even make an atheist believe in God.”

“I wish he hadn't gone and cut his hair.He looks about eight years old.His ears have tripled in size.Everyone's started calling him Dumbo.Which wouldn't be so bad,except they've started calling meMrs. Dumbo.You can't even tellhe's got curly hair anymore.There's nothing leftto run my fingers through.Just this weirdblond AstroTurfsprouting out of his skull.”