Shuggie Bain
by
The red-headed ox was called Eugene. It was a good name, both old-fashioned and plain. It was a name mothers chose for firstborn sons, the ones that were to be solid and true, mother’s pride but not her joy.
“Anne felt sad. People parted, years passed, they met again — and the meeting proved no reunion, offered no warm memories, only the acid knowledge that time had passed and things weren’t as bright or attractive as they had been.”
― Valley of the Dolls
― Valley of the Dolls
“As I was always a gloomy, morose sort of individual, my friends easily forgot me; of course, they would have forgotten me all the same, without that excuse.”
― The Idiot
― The Idiot
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