Mark, a cheeping chorister of our schooldays, has retained, despite the blottery tenor that has displaced his treble, a habit of uttering with the suddenness of a ship’s siren, the less interesting of Schubert’s ditties.

Your thoughts consider Ailurocide combined with a little homicide justifiable.

We even went down into the cellars, where was a vast vault filled with coal. This puts to shame the subfenestral carbonaria of your alma mater. Every university-man knows how the coal-porter brings his sack on his shoulder, and empties the load into the hollowed-out window-seat; Forsan et haec olim meminisse juvabit.

But the day of the Lord will come as a thief in the night; in the which the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat, the earth also and the works that are therein shall be burned up.