My father looked mournfully at me, before turning to whisper something to Elpinoy as he staggered into the kitchen, sleep-drunk.

Wallace knew well the Englishmen would flee, For thy he thrusted in the thickest to be, Hewing full fast on whomsoever he fought, Against his dint fine steel availed nought.

They have hooted at the devils, shouted with laughter over the stupidities and shrewdities of the hermit.

The car in which I had taken Olivia to dinner and then out to the cemetery — a historic vehicle, even a monument of sorts, in the history of fellatio's advent onto the Winesburg campus in the second half of the twentieth century — went careening off to the side and turned end-over-end down Lower Main until it exploded in flames...