It often seemed to Mallet that he wholly lacked the prime requisite of a graceful flaneur—the simple, sensuous, confident relish of pleasure.

I wylbe ferme and ſtabyll And to yow ſeruyceabyll And also prophytabyll Yf ye be agreabyll My propyr Beſſe To turne a gayne to me

He thought that cars were the be-all and end-all of life.

It is almost impossible to attend a meeting, visit someone at home, or even call upon the sisters at the monastery and not be offered slivovic. Morning, noon, or night … it doesn't matter. When my meeting with the pcelari ended, Mesam presented me with a gift. It was a bottle of slivovic.