It is curious how, at every crisis, some phrase which does not fit insists upon coming to the rescue

“Finally, to hinder the description of illness in literature, there is the pover…”

“No decent man ought to read Shakespeare's sonnets because it was like listening…”

“But his son hated him. He hated him for coming up to them, for stopping and loo…”

“A toy boat, a toy boat, a toy boat,’ she repeated, thus enforcing upon herself …”