Whoever shall sell a calf or a yearling, let him be answerable against the scab from the calends of winter until the Feast of Patrick.

He’s just a schnook. She’s obviously using him but he keeps coming back for more abuse.

There was more leisurely space for his playing in the first half — he sparkled on a richly reharmonized “Over the Rainbow,” his longtime trump card — but the second half felt more purposeful and vital.

Haven't you seen his Web site? I'll link you to it.