No former king had involved himself so frequently in the labyrinth of continental alliances.

When they stick out their tongues, they're doing a mlem, a blep, a blop. They bork. They boof.

When his mind was filled to its unhappy capacity, one cheerless, nightful trend rose to the top: Look for a place to sleep.

He laid a hundred guineas with the laird of Slofferfield that he would drive four horses through the Slofferfield loch, and in the prank he had his bit chariot dung to pieces and a good mare killed.