What shall we call it? he asked. Why should you not take the chance of perpetuating your own name? said Summerlee, with his usual touch of acidity.

The orange shades ranged from brilliant to soft; pinks from delicate little-girl hues to strong dusties; yellows were soft buttermilks to ochre; reds ran from scarlets to bloods;

Under our former practice this defence could not be pleaded in bar, because it admits that the plaintiff has a right to sue, and seeks to recoupe damages on the ground that the plaintiff has failed to perform some stipulation in the contract […]

[…] I see The mystery of your loneliness, and find Your salt tears’ head: now to all sense ’tis gross You love my son […]