"You see, madam, I love my things. I would rather not part with them than sell them to someone who does not appreciate them, who has not that fine feeling which is so rare." —A Cup of Tea by Katherine Mansfield (1888-1923). My mind was filled with that great song "Lover Man" as Billie Holiday sings it; I had my own concert in the bushes. "Someday we'll meet, and you'll dry all my tears, and whisper sweet, little things in my ear, hugging and a-kissing, oh what we've been missing, Lover Man, oh where can you be..." It's not the words so much as the great harmonic tune and the way Billie sings it, like a woman stroking her man's hair in soft lamplight. The winds howled. I got cold. —On the Road, Jack Kerouac.