"[T]he Times brings us a template for how to delegate T-day like a CEO. Which means what, nowadays? Running your meal into bankruptcy?"
--Sadie, Jezebel.com -"Turkey Day: Are You A Kitchen Slaver, Or Shirker?"
"There was a girl coming home from school and the wind took her portfolio and papers blew up into the air and all over town. It was her portfolio of poetry. Nobody knew she wrote poems, but now people saw and picked them up here and there, everywhere. There were strange poems. There were poems about rocks speaking and geese speaking and birds flying against the wind and standing still in the air and fire in the windows of houses and yet they were not burned. It was quite interesting. To people, this girl, before, had always been known as her mother's daughter, and now she was an individual - a strange individual - in our midst."
Prairie Home Companion, News from Lake Wobegon, Sept. 29, 2008
"One morning I woke up and got his tea ready and his breakfast ready and stuff and said, 'Hey, I need your opinion on something. I want to wear this dress to your wake.' And so I put it on and I stood up on the bed and I said, 'How do I look?' And he started to cry. And I said 'Oh God, I'm so sorry, I'll take it off. I didn't mean to upset you at all.' And he said, 'No, it's just that you look so beautiful. I'm so glad I got to see you in that dress.' And he kept crying, and I held his hand and sat down on the bed next to him and said, 'What's going on?' He said, 'It's just that I woke up this morning more ready.' And I asked him what that felt like, and he paused and looked at me, and he said, 'Well, I guess it's the same thing you felt when you put the dress on this morning.'"
--Andrea St. John, StoryCorps 83: "Dressed for the Occasion"