“Mother,” I said at last, my heart pounding in too bigsome a fashion for that tiny porch, “maybe our own garden shall take no hurt from a dark flower . .” “Indeed Jan,” she said very fondly, “and I was never the one to reckon it would.”
If she knew [a psychiatrist was] observing her son with a view to finding out if he was foggy between the ears, there would be umbrage on her part, or even dudgeon.
What chance has the species homo superioris, of the poets and eugenists, of being born from racial stocks depleted mentally and physically by the environment of violence?
homo superioris,
He's spoken with a forked tongue to reporters, and his explanations for launching a probe don't pass the plausibility and credibility tests.
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