I ran like a thing that runs.

She firmly held the theory that everyone gets at least one very stupid superpower.

I had always assumed the weekend was a holy tradition, respected by good people everywhere. Not so at Wexford.

Some nutter's gone and pulled a Jack the Ripper.

It could have been like a fairy tale. But fairy tales aren't real. Things don't work like that. There's a price for everything.

You could wear the same outfit every single day and no guy - who isn't gay - will notice.

Proximity doesn't breed familiarity.