The bay was dyed in profound blue.
The Oakland boat joggled on happily as from a fairy isle. My visionary eyes caught the heavenly flock of seagulls around it.
If I could fly in their company!
The low mountains over the bay looked inexpressively comfortable, like one sleeping under a warm blanket.
The moon-night view from here must be wonderful.
I felt a new stream of blood beginning to swell within my body.
I buzzed a silly song.
I crept into my uncle’s room.
I stole one stalk of his cigarettes.
I bit it, aping Mr. Uncle, when my door banged.