He laid a hundred guineas with the laird of Slofferfield that he would drive four horses through the Slofferfield loch, and in the prank he had his bit chariot dung to pieces and a good mare killed.

No former king had involved himself so frequently in the labyrinth of continental alliances.

When his mind was filled to its unhappy capacity, one cheerless, nightful trend rose to the top: Look for a place to sleep.

When they stick out their tongues, they're doing a mlem, a blep, a blop. They bork. They boof.