Go fifty-fifty. / If they nail you call in a mouthpiece. / Fix it, you gazump, you slant-head, fix it. / Feed 'em. …

The grate was laid with charcoal, to that she put a light, and then, as if she had forgotten something, hurried to the library, and carefully locked the door. First returning to see that the fire had kindled, she then went to the window, which, with the first gleam of moonlight, she cautiously unclosed, and stepped into the shrubbery.

Don't walk near the tiger: it'll make a meal of you.

He never treated me like I was his bit of fluff