… I turned to Aunt Agatha, whose demeanour was now rather like that of one who, picking daisies on the railway, has just caught the down express in the small of the back.
… I turned to Aunt Agatha, whose demeanour was now rather like that of one who, picking daisies on the railway, has just caught the down express in the small of the back.
Moore's Paradox It is raining but I don't believe that it is.
Machines Dearest, note how these two are alike: This harpsichord pavane by Purcell And the racer's twelve-speed bike. The machinery…
The Tiger Tyger! Tyger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy…