I recall my friend, the late Charles Jeffries, who heard I was trying to adventurize Canada's past years, and who came down to the office one afternoon and yarned for a couple of hours, chain-smoking as he always did.
… And, he added, it transforms a churchling into a Christian to come into contact with the Pope.
… And,
it transforms a churchling into a Christian to come into contact with the Pope.
You must admit that the bastard get of Paul Atreides would be no more than juicy morsels for those two [tigers].
She would craunch the wing of a lark, bones and all, between her teeth, although it were nine times as large as that of a full-grown turkey; and put a bit of bread into her mouth as big as two twelve-penny loaves.
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