You're too fastidious, and too indolent, and too rich.

The store is on a corner about which coveys of ragged-plumed, hilarious children play and become candidates for the cough drops and soothing syrups that wait for them inside.

The latest model has run up against the limits of its technical capacity.

Thy glorious triumph with what language hit, O'er sense, o'er learning, modesty and wit; Yes, yes, my foe, in triumph I survey — Myself sole umpress of thy every lay: