Until recently, I thought that limes were just unripe lemons.
I recently had the pleasure of attending a small dinner lecture delivered by W. Barksdale Maynard ’88 on the topic of Princeton’s architectural history, from which I gleaned many a delightful tidbit of information about this place that we students from all four corners of the earth have come to call home.
People don’t look up. I’ve proved it to myself a number of times. On one occasion during my sophomore year, after climbing to the top of Dillon Gymnasium, I spotted a friend of mine walking past me toward Spelman Halls and the Wa.