— Sorry, chicken's off today.

If a sarbut suddenly went bent, then it was only to be expected. He walked across to a desk set beside the doorway of the crime squad office, leafed through the pages of the duty book and absently wrote in Shakespeare's name and rank […]

All day, therefore, the Blues and the Buffs have been locked in contretemps, with Brown and Cameron striving to outfrown each other in statesmanship

Your sacred Majesty, he has the dropsy;— We shall find pints of hydatids in’s liver, He has not half an inch of wholesome fat Upon his carious ribs