I think I bit off more than I could chew when I agreed to paint this house by myself.

Carlyle was a masterer of language, even more than a master of it.

He owns a horse, a Morgan filly named Funquest Siri, and soon he'll own a ranch near Kansas City (he won't say where). Moreover, Brett has the chafed fanny and blistered memories of riding a real roundup back to his claim. It's not unreasonable to credit some of Brett's cowboyitis for his more relaxed personality since the baseball strike ended.

[U]pon a vaine and fooliſh ſuperſtition, enjoining men to begrime and beray themſelves with durt, to lie and vvallovv in the mire, to obſerve Sabbaths and ceaſe from vvorke, to lie proſtrate and groveling upon the earth with the face dovvnevvard, to ſit upon the ground in open place, and to make many ſtrange and extravagant adorations.