[S]tately Hyperion or the lordly ſonne, the moſt rutilant planet of the ſeuẽ, in Lent when Heralius herring enters into his chiefe reign and ſcepterdome, ſkippeth and danſeth[,] the goats iumpe on the earth for ioy of his entrance.
He cast his net, which brought him a very great draft.
He left his tie. The one with the scriggly yellow lines running lopsided across the dark-blue field.
In the 1980s and ’90s, there was a book party at least once a week at either Elaine’s or Mortimer’s, and the writer Candace Bushnell, then flat broke, went to all of them, especially the ones at Mortimer’s, because it served generous amounts of its famous miniburgers.
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