All through the rosy dewy days: A bare-skin boy did guide my feet— A boy with pretty, pouting ways: And oh, ’twas shrewd deceit!

[P]revious finalists on the show have begun to speak out against issues they had to deal with when the cameras stopped filming. […] But just as the dark side of the genre threatened to overshadow any previous genuine highs, in 2019, buzz spread in the US around a talent show that had to be seen to be believed.

This coin has landed on heads ten times, so by the law of averages it must land on tails next time.

Like Jimmy Breslin, a writer he was often compared to, he turned his roving eye to ordinary Southerners overlooked by most writers and mined the inexhaustible vein of human experience.