He bulleted a header for his first score of the season.

He takes the fruit and a knife sinkward, and as the women fashion plans he slices melon and devours the red fibers, spitting seeds into the hollow tub.

[…] theists and philosophers have been frenetically pounding the heaveless breast of God in a desperate session of panicked CPR.

Hamlet: […]There is a play to-night before the king; One scene of it comes near the circumstance Which I have told thee of my father's death: I prithee, when thou seest that act afoot, Even with the very comment of thy soul Observe mine uncle: if his occulted guilt Do not itself unkennel in one speech, It is a damned ghost that we have seen, And my imaginations are as foul As Vulcan's stithy. Give him heedful note; For I mine eyes will rivet to his face, And after we will both our judgments join In censure of his seeming.