Flannery O'Connor: "The Partridge Festival"

“Are you going to take notes?” Calhoun inquired in a tone heavy with irony. The girl looked around as if trying to identify the speaker. “Yes,” she said, “I’m going to take notes.” “You appreciate this sort of thing?” Calhoun asked in the same tone. “You enjoy it?” “It makes me vomit,” she said, “I’m going to finish it off with one swift literary kick.” The boy looked at her blankly. “Don’t let me interfere with your pleasure in it,” she said, “but this whole place is false and rotten to the core.” Her voice came with a hiss of indignation. “They prostitute azaleas!” Calhoun was astounded. After a moment he recovered himself. “It takes no great mind to come to that conclusion,” he said haughtily. “What requires insight is finding a way to transcend it.” “You mean a form to express it in.” “It comes to the same thing,” he said.