He joked around with me and had me laughing so hard that it was tough not to feel silly about being "kayfabed.

The sky was cloudless; the foliage of the wood scarce tinged with purple and gold; the buckwheat in yonder fields frostened into snowy ripeness.

I mean … one can't be out in the cold all the time; one has to come in from the cold … do you see what I mean?

You […] arm in waves, electric in his ire, / The dread Gymnotus with ethereal fire.