He had dipped ungenerously into a generous mother’s purse; basely and recklessly spilt her little cruse.

Nay, was it I who wooed thee to this breast, / Which like a serpent thou envenomest / As in repayment of the warmth it lent?

He had no interest in drugs, and helped this hippie beach-girl – as he had first believed her to be–to get over her heroin addiction.

The coterie was located in the middle of our wheat field.