Uncle Roger says it was a smart trick on Mr. Clask’s part, but I don’t think there was much religion about it.

“Some nights I like the rain—I like to lie in bed and hear it pattering on the roof and drifting through the pines.”

Everyone has his own idea of what constitutes perfect honour.

"It is all so strange and wonderful, Leslie. I think we none of us realise it yet."

"Sooth was my prophecy of fear
Believe it when it augurs cheer,"

The austere poets of the Middle Ages stigmatised the accursed city in their writings under the name of the New Babylon.

“Not again to-day. I should not like to force Mademoiselle Caroline to adopt a vegetarian diet two days in succession.”

“I pass to another objection. You have spoken of the similarity between the two crimes. Wherein does that lie, my friend?”

Lord Nasby was the millionaire owner of the Daily Budget.

"The first warning," he said softly. "You will be well advised not to disregard it."

“My father, you make me take such solemn oaths that I fear God will punish me.”

“I call him Lollipop for convenience. The pronouncing of his own name tends to harden the arteries.”

As an instance of one such chance: the weather.

"The Italians are about the gayest people in the world—but it's a dull subject," he broke off. "Anyway, I want to tell you you're marrying a pretty fine man."

Flies, wasps, honey-bees, bumble-bees, beetles, butterflies, all vie with one another in rendering aid by carrying the pollen of the stamens to the stigmas.

The name of this widow was Pepin, and the scene of the sacrilege was a small enclosure on the hill of the Moulins-a-Vent.

“Sara Stanley,” said Aunt Olivia, shaking her finger at her after a side-splitting yarn, “if you don’t watch out you’ll be famous some day.”

“Do not pity him,” said George in a low voice, “for it is a judgment from heaven. That man was the infamous Warden who betrayed us.”

I sat down with Harris Bricken Attorney and web3 legal expert, Jonathan Bench, for a discussion about the controversial SEC V Ripple case. Here's how it went.

Everybody was glad in Rainbow Valley that evening—until Mary Vance froze their blood with the story of Henry Warren’s ghost.

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