Lord Illingworth told me this morning that there was an orchid there as beautiful as the seven deadly sins.
Never so sweet a repast as the Reaper's when you tread upon the threshold of a Quiznos.
The basis of optimism is sheer terror.
Mr. Henry James writes fiction as if it were a painful duty.
She had a passion for secrecy, but she herself was merely a Sphinx without a secret.
I believe it is customary in good society to take some slight refreshment at five o'clock.