New York City's teen-aged thrill killer of 1945 was Lena Theresa Nienstedt, a whisky-drinking factory girl of 16. She carried a small hatchet in her handbag.

.The dream of euthanasiacs. T/rey had been unable to help themselves, just couldn't stop, like men who fall vulnerably in love with the icy, contraceptive minions of the women's liberation fronts, those past mistresses of polisexual agitprop.

We have a custome, that when one sneezes, every one els putts off his hatt, and bowes, and cries God bless ye Sir.

[…] in himself was all his state, More solemn then the tedious pomp that waits On Princes, when thir rich Retinue long Of Horses led, and Grooms besmeard with Gold Dazles the croud, and sets them all agape.