[…] learn to do when they don't want the whole world to know they've got a bonk on.

This most eminent representative of the Normanno-Sicilian school of falconry […]

Afterward she sat in the drugstore sucking malt through a straw.

And this fell tempest shall not cease to rage Until the golden circuit on my head, Like to the glorious sun's transparent beams, Do calm the fury of this mad-bred flaw.