Papyrus: This is my brother's pet rock. He always forgets to feed it. As usual, I have to take responsibility.

Being a social climber was more of a time burglar than having a ghost twin sister.

The banjo built up to breakdown speed and then took a sidestep into another register, an oddly complex net of notes which stretched out for a time and finally stopped on a full rest.

Beſides he tells me, that, if peraduenture / He ſpeake againſt me on the aduerse ſide, / I ſhould not thinke it ſtrange, for 'tis a phyſicke / That's bitter, to ſweet end.