ellauri109.html on line 597: In 2012, Roth invited Blake Bailey to his apartment, on West Seventy-ninth Street, for a kind of job interview. After quizzing Bailey on how a Gentile from Oklahoma could possibly write the life of a Jew from Newark, the deal was made. “I don’t want you to rehabilitate me,” Roth told him. “Just make me interesting.”
ellauri111.html on line 245: “Just a short story …?”
ellauri111.html on line 269: “Just like that?” I interjected, quite shocked.
ellauri214.html on line 535: Halfway through her fifth novel Flights, Olga Tokarczuk asks her readers to take pity on the poor souls for whom English is their “real language”. “Just imagine!” teases Poland’s most widely translated female author. “They don’t have anything to fall back on or turn to in moments of doubt. How lost they must feel in the world, where all instructions, all the lyrics of the stupidest possible songs, all the excruciating pamphlets and brochures — even the buttons in the lift! — are in their private language . . . they are accessible to everyone and everything!”
xxx/ellauri124.html on line 374:

1. “Just wanted to let you know that you’ve been
   xxx/ellauri124.html on line 393: “Just wanted to let you know that you’re a great friend.”
   xxx/ellauri179.html on line 436: “Just a minute,” the man said.
   7