Trump didn't like the results of the polls, so he fired the pollsters.

Crabbe continued to lie, eyes slowly following the questing flight of a mason-wasp, flat on his back, hands folded.

But it is needless to comment on the powers of this monarch of the orchestra; on the vitality which he imparts, even to a bloodless composition, and his absolute mastery of the material subjected to his powerful personality—all this is surely well known to the American public. Brahms, as Max Fiedler presented him to us through the Academic Festival Overture and Symphonies, Nos. 1 and 2, is Brahms in the hypersuperlative degree.

It's not you, it's me.