The sound of the arrows was bzzzt, bzzzt, like the buzzing of flies. I know of no more maddening noise than the singing of arrows past the ear.

This ottoman is set on casters, and is a great convenience for holding articles, while serving also as a seat.

The affair at the time made much noise in the fashionable world, and formed the subject of the condolatory address in question, from Lord Byron's pen.

[…] I have no time for prolonged sadness or self-pity because I am making a living. People care little about your failures and don't enjoy the company of a depressoid. […]