All you do is complain about this family. You have no idea what it means to build something or to work hard for anything. It's all just been handed to you, Zoe. –I guess I'll have to learn how to marry into money.
Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house, I could hear something stirring; it was my husband, that louse. I screamed down the stairs, 'Jack, get back to this bed,' but heard not a word from the weasel I wed. So I slipped on my housecoat and stockings with care, but except for those items my body was bare. I scoured the whole house, but my search was in vain and visions of homicide danced through my brain. When out on the lawn there rose such a sound, I ran to the door and tore open my gown. The moon on my breasts in the new-fallen snow gave the luster of youth that I had long-ago. When what to my baby-blue eyes should appear, but a man dressed in red from his head to his rear. From the leer in his eye to the hump on his back, I knew in a flash that it must be my Jack. More rapid than eagles his corsairs they came, and he whistled and shouted and called me by name.
Don't you understand? How can I marry you? Me, the symbol of bachelorhood! I've sneered at every love scene in every play. I've written four million words against marriage. Not only hooked, but to a minister's daughter! And not only a minister's daughter, but a girl from Brooklyn!.