Like someone who'd learned how best to cope with chronic illness, he never allowed himself to think of his paranoia as an aspect of self. It was there, constantly and intimately, and he relied on it professionally, but he wouldn't allow it to spread, become jungle. He cultivated it on its own special plot, and checked it daily for news it might bring: hunches, lateralisms, frank anomalies.

The pea-coated gent at that word made a start, / And looked nervously round at the goods of our mart: “A vest, coat, and trousers, as soon as they’re done, I want, s’il vous plait, Messieurs Moses and Son.

Now the Tong — which is a Chinese Secret Society — is New Yorkian and Oriental and picturesque all at the same time.

Most people do not directly associate Arnold Schwarzenegger's stony, punk-hairstyled face […] with humor.