Marouane Chamakh then spurned a great chance to kill the game off when he ran onto Andrey Arshavin's lofted through ball but shanked his shot horribly across the face of goal.

She produced a small datapad, tapped out a rapid sequence on the keys, and shoved it in front of Ma'adrys. “Does it look like this?” Ma'adrys drew back from the datapad until Geordi leaned over her shoulder to whisper a few words of reassurance

This is Memory Lane—lonely and drear to some, pleasant and gay to others. ... It was New Year's day in the old town, the most hallowed of holidays on Memory Lane; the day when the wharf was deserted, for everyone, great and small, walked over the Lane, many even to the very end.

Doubtless ye shall not come into the land, concerning which I sware to make you dwell therein, save Caleb the son of Jephunneh, and Joshua the son of Nun.