Deep down, I’m just a West Virginia hillbilly.

Virginia isn’t for lovers. Vagina is for lovers. Makes me wonder why there aren’t any for sale in any vending machines.

The November evening had a bite; it nibbled not-quite-gently at her cheeks and ears. In Virginia the late autumn was a lover, still, but a dangerous one.

I should never be able to fulfill what is,I understand, the first duty of a lecturer-to hand you after an hour’s discourse a nugget of pure truth to wrap up between the pages of your...