Mrs. Calabash spoke as follows. “Now, you listen to me young Cyril. And you let the words burn in. You are not to see this Courtenay woman. Not at all. And you are not to attend that awful theater which allegedly employs her. And you are certainly not to visit the drinking establishments she is known to frequent.”
Ralston Dowd, A Spot of Bother.
The entire crew (but one) was bound to Captain Ahab’s monomania. Its reach, one could say, was universal. And down they all went. But one.
Hampton Fancher, Variations on the Red Barn Con.
The world almost exists.
Godfrey Tooke, Collected Aphorisms.
The world fails to exist.
Godfrey Tooke, Collected Aphorisms.
“Six Slain in Dayton,” read the headline. And, as always, Terence was uncertain about pursuing the thing any further.
Jason Starling, ed., Adventures in Narrative Parsimony.
“I want to be told what to do,” proclaimed Emily. “And when and where to do it.”
Corliss Archer, Boarding the Crazy Train.
How sophisticated are you?
Godfrey Tooke, Collected Aphorisms.
“I had no idea writing was so easy,” he said. “The stuff just comes pouring out.”
“Are you sure it doesn’t come oozing out?” muttered Harry.
Philip Cavendish, Tilly’s Treasury of Colloquial Bits.
“You must never attribute substance to actors or artists or the like. Try to bear in mind, Thomas, that they are just throwing it at you. Always.”
Will Bestwyck, Letters From Mr. Palindrome.
“Avoid being a fool about half the time,” he said, in a theatrical voice. “That’s my motto, Julie.”
Pryce Cummings, Rattle Box.
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