There are two hundred and eighty men, perhaps more, in that body, as honest, straightforward, singlehearted reformers as ever were assembled within four walls.

This addition to the decoratable surface of feminine epidermis is nothing if not evidence of a millennium in the cycle of civilization that is taking us back to our beginnnings.

But this Cobweb Lawn is too thin; a gold Leaf to cover the forgoing poison: For nothing is more plain, that he means, that the King is the Head Conspirator in all this slavery […]

There had to be a secret something to make french fries that good. / Now, to most people, a french-fried potato is a pretty uninspiring object. It’s fodder, something to kill time chewing between bites of hamburger and swallows of milk shake. That’s your ordinary french fry. The McDonald’s french fry was in an entirely different league.