But no, we cross, crisscross, and recross our old tracks like figure skaters.
This world, he thinks, contains just one masterpiece, and that is itself.
'Y' is about the weakest letter of all. 'Y' can't make up its mind if it's a vowel or a consonant, can it?
She was widely read enough to appreciate my literary wit but not so widely read that she knew my sources. I like that in a woman.
Anticipating the end of the world is humanity's oldest passtime
History admits no rules; only outcomes.