Yet she must dye, else shee'l betray more men: Put out the Light, and then put out the Light: If I quench thee, thou flaming Minister, I can againe thy former light restore, Should I repent me. But once put out thy Light, Thou cunning'st Patterne of excelling Nature, I know not where is that Promethaean heate That can thy Light re-Lume.

It was obvious that it consisted of several blows to the head from the hoe.

However, unless you have a nonshedding, nonlicking breed, there's no such thing as a truly hypoallergenic dog. How about a nice goldfish instead?

You wake up, feeling as fit as a fiddle; you look at the window and see the sun, and thank Heaven for a fine day.