In its lean arrangements, her band conjured both traditions and possibilities: the tambourine and strummed cavaquinho (miniature guitar) of samba for “Na Gangorra,” a loungey acid-jazz pulse and hints of reggae for “Vento No Canavial,” African-tinged funk in the Vinicius de Moraes-Baden Powell song “Consolaçã” and in the French songwriter Camille Dalmais’s “1, 2, 3.”

[…] set fire to the library, and stifle him in it like a weazel as he is […]

So every alleyway down here, every shadow big enough to hide a shive artist with a grudge, is a warm invitation to rewrite history.

Arrows were anciently made of reeds, afterwards of cornel wood, and occasionally of every species of wood: but according to Roger Ascham, ash was best; arrows were reckoned by sheaves, a sheaf consisted of twenty-four arrows.