Obedient to constraint, I was compelled to submit

I challenge you to a duel!” screamed the cat, sailing over their heads on the swinging chandelier.

It must be added that from his first words the foreigner made a repellent impression on the poet, but Berlioz rather liked him - that is, not liked but . . . how to put it . . . was interested, or whatever.

Who ever told you there is no such thing in the world as real, true, everlasting love? May the liar have his despicable tongue cut out!

But worse things were about to be found in the bedroom: on the jeweller’s wife’s ottoman, in a casual pose, sprawled a third party- namely, a black cat of uncanny size, with a glass of vodka in one paw and a fork, on which he had managed to spear a pickled mushroom, in the other. , The Master and Magarita

A dog's spirit dies hard.

Yes, man is mortal, but that would be only half the trouble. The worst of it is that he's sometimes unexpectedly mortal—there's the trick!