And when belief was dead and God a myth, / And the world seemed a wandering mote of evil, / Endurable only by its impermanence, / And all the planets perishable urns / Of perishable ashes, to you alone I clung / Amid the unspeakable loneliness of the universe.

Officers in a ghost car were doing speed enforcement near 82 Street and 132 Avenue when a white 1995 Ford Contour sped by.

In a gathering Cold War atmosphere, American officials are gaming out responses should Russia resort to battlefield nuclear weapons.

In most American whalemen the mast-heads are manned almost simultaneously with the vessel’s leaving her port; even though she may have fifteen thousand miles, and more, to sail ere reaching her proper cruising ground.