Now and then he would make a motion with his feet as if he were running quickly backward upstairs, and would tread on the edge of the fender, so that the fire-irons went flying and the buttered-bun dishes crashed against each other in the hearth.
The donation will keep our business afloat for quite a while.
Mr. Ray’s sculpture is a big-budget production that may become rare in the years ahead, but looking at it and gradually realizing that none of its delicate, desiccated textures are natural is a semihallucinatory experience.
Miranda: The strangeness of your story put / Heaviness in me.
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