A correspondence corner for not-so-famous lost words

Correspondence on not-so-famous lost words

Leslie Gillis requests title and author for a book that ends, “I don’t know. I’m just a city boy myself”—in response to a question about whether flowers popping up through the snow are crocuses.

“iron filings” (March-April). Alison Harris recalled this fable about steel filings and a magnet from Extraordinary Tales by Jorge Luis Borges and Adolfo Bioy Casares (1971, edited and translated by Anthony Kerrigan; page 96). Their source, Hesketh Pearson’s The Life of Oscar Wilde (1946; page 212), credits Richard Le Gallienne’s The Romantic ’90s (1926; pages 254ff).

“thoughts of great men” (March-April). Mary Ann Brewin found no citation for this alleged Mark Twain remark, but recommended www.twainquotes.com for many other sourced comments.

Send inquiries and answers to “Chapter and Verse,” Harvard Magazine, 7 Ware Street, Cambridge 02138, or via e-mail tochapterandverse@harvardmag.com.

You might also like

The play Spare Parts is a contemporary fable about the quest to live forever.

The Gretel and the Great War author on how the Lampoon derailed his science career—and set him on a literary path.

Chloe Chapin trains her Broadway costume designer’s eye on the history of men’s fashion.

Most popular

The stakes are high for this husband and wife: one of them will die if they don’t find a cure.

Andrea Louise Campbell reviews The Unheavenly Chorus, on skewed political power

Andrea Louise Campbell reviews The Unheavenly Chorus, by Kay Lehman Schlozman, Sidney Verba, and Henry E. Brady.

Long-discussed reorganization includes layoffs and the end of the Dudley Community.

Explore More From Current Issue

Colorful word cloud with various emotions and ideas related to learning and reflection.

But it can’t replace human connection.

Two laboratory researchers, one seated and one standing, in a scientific lab with equipment.

The stakes are high for this husband and wife: one of them will die if they don’t find a cure.

Caricature of a young man in front of red doors, wearing a green striped sweater.

In 1954, Gregory Corso moved into Eliot House. How he stayed there is a literary legend.