Balked for the second time, the passion of his grief had found another outlet, was transformed into a passion of agonized rage.

On an early winter afternoon, clear but not cold, when the vegetable world was a weird multitude of skeletons through whose ribs the sun shone freely, a gleaming landau came to a pause on the crest of a hill in Wessex.

The order of days in every month was computed, according to him, first by what he calls a tridecennary progression of days from one to thirteen, […]

Stop in the morning for espresso and the pita eggwich (scrambled eggs, peppers, onions and diced tomatoes with provolone).