The fire burned here and there for a fortnight, and then there came a light shower or two that set the hills a-steam with opaque white smoke.

I have given you roe and reindeer, / I have given you brant and beaver, / Filled the marshes full of wild-fowl, / Filled the rivers full of fishes; / Why then are you not contented? / Why then will you hunt each other?

It was hard to write as my fingers had seized up with the cold weather.

She drove an Italian sportscar and lunched on one egg Benedict[…]