I know," I said, "but it scares me. It reminds me of my father."I'm not your father," said Mark. "Repeat after me, 'Mark Feldman is not my father.'"Mark Feldman is not my father," I said. Am I fat?" said Mark. No," I said. Am I bald?"No."Do I smell of Dr. Scholl's foot pads?"No," I said. I rest my case," said Mark.
Nora EphronAbout author
- Author's profession: Author
- Nationality: american
- Born: May 19, 1941
- Died: June 26, 2012
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Lying in bed, I could hear the trams far away in the distance. Turning the corners heavily, and gathering speed for the hills. I used to hear them back in Dublin on the Northside when I was small, lying in bed, avoiding the eye of the Sacred Heart in the picture on the far wall. The house we lived in was a great lord's town house before it was a tenement, and there was a big black Kilkenny marble fireplace before my bed. If the souls in Purgatory really came back, it was out of there they...
Brendan Behan