Mr. Bush . . ., noting first the lamentability of public violence against property(!) and holding responsible, once again, those black bodies on the street.

Oh baby, baby, have you seen Amy tonight? / Is she in the bathroom, is she smokin' up outside?

The Tomb disburd’ning, whence the Ghoſt aroſe Of great Achilles; Such when Thracian Foes (The Prelude of thy Fates, Troy!) he o’rethrew, And the white hair’d Neptunian Cycnus [i.e., Neptune’s son] ſlew.

A huge, crazyloud group of guys—mostly giant, burly football players and their friends—had gathered in the cafeteria, laughing, fistbumping, and highfiving as they surrounded a guy named Jarrett.