Tirelessly swimming through de Quincy’s ‘department of impassioned prose,’ either in splendiloquent support of some new work or in dismissal of its shortcomings, is vouchsafed to few reviewers.

He's the best when it comes to detective fiction.

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Envy not! for thou wilt wear / In the dark a shroud as fair; / Golden with the sunny ray / Thou withdrawest from my day; […]