[…] I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses … […]

Well fare the Arabians, who so richly pay The things they traffic for with wedge of gold, Whereof a man may easily in a day Tell that which may maintain him all his life.

“My dispel didn't work,” she said finally. “He wasn't a blood witch, Sunny,” I said.

isochrones of urban development, isochrones of equal travel time