“An exquisite. That’s the word they used. Well, there are worse words, I suppose. I’ve certainly had worse hurled in my teeth. What of it? We come into this world the way we are; the world makes of us what it will. None of it is anything we asked for, it’s what we have, and what we must deal with, make the best of. This is true of the non-exquisites as well, although it seems that few of them – or fewer of them at least – can see this.” Harvey Morton, Brooklyn, New York, December 1947.