Explore "Look Homeward, Angel" by Thomas Wolfe on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
In that enormous silence, where pain and darkness met, some birds were waking. It was October. It was almost four o'clock in the morning. Eliza straightened out Ben's limbs, and folded his hands across his body. She smoothed out the rumpled covers of the bed, and patted out the pillows, making a smooth hollow for his head to rest in. His flashing hair, cropped close to his well-shaped head, was crisp and crinkly as a boy's, and shone with bright points of light. With a pair of scissors, she snipped off a little lock where it would not show.
"Grover's was black as a raven's without a kink in it. You'd never have known they were twins," she said.