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1 " I have seen them stagger out of their movie palaces and blink their empty eyes in the face of reality once more, and stagger home, to read the Times, to find out what's going on in the world. I have vomited at their newspapers, read their literature, observed their customs, eaten their food, desired their women, gaped at their art. But I am poor, and my name ends with a soft vowel, and they hate me and my father, and my father's father, and they would have my blood and put me down, but they are old now, dying in the sun and in the hot dust of the road, and I am young and full of hope and love for my country and my times, and when I say Greaser to you it is not my heart that speaks, but the quivering of an old wound, and I am ashamed of the terrible thing I have done. "
― John Fante , Ask the Dust (The Saga of Arturo Bandini, #3)
2 " Angel blinked hard and bit her lip, trying to stop the quivering of her chin. “I feel like I’ve waited my whole life for him, waited to get to this point where I could appreciate and value him most. "
