I had the evening to kill, but it didn’t want to die and fought back. — Jack Finney

Once in a while you’re momentarily conscious of being happy. But I’m superstitious, and I picture Fate—best be respectful, and use a capital F—as a misty presence somewhere up in the sky but not too far away. Always listening, alert and ready to punish forbidden optimism.

“They couldn’t promise that, could they?”

“Of course not. Congress would have to declare war; this was back in the old-fashioned days when Presidents felt they had to honor their oath to abide by the Constitution.”

The best thing in our show was always our move to the next town.