Their laughter was like the stridulation of the ghosts of grasshoppers.
You know,_ she said dreamily, passing over his question, __ou__e not nearly as handsome as Lord St.Vincent.___here__ a surprise,_ he said dryly.__ut for some reason,_ she continued, __ never want to kiss him the way I do you._ It was a good thing that she had closed her eyes, for if she had seen his expression, she might not have continued. __here is something about you that makes me feel terribly wicked. You make me want to do shocking things. Maybe it__ because you__e so proper. Your necktie is never crooked, and your shoes are always shiny. And your shirts are so starchy. Sometimes when I look at you, I want to tear off all your buttons. Or set your trousers on fire.
It Happened One Autumn
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You know,_ she said dreamily, passing over his question, __ou__e not nearly as handsome as Lord St.Vincent.___here__ a surprise,_ he said dryly.__ut for some reason,_ she continued, __ never want to kiss him the way I do you._ It was a good thing that she had closed her eyes, for if she had seen his expression, she might not have continued. __here is something about you that makes me feel terribly wicked. You make me want to do shocking things. Maybe it__ because you__e so proper. Your necktie is never crooked, and your shoes are always shiny. And your shirts are so starchy. Sometimes when I look at you, I want to tear off all your buttons. Or set your trousers on fire.
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They say revenge is a dish best served cold. This isn__ correct. Revenge is a dish best served lukewarm or at room temperature (depending on the room) with a side of sauerkraut lightly sprinkled with pepper, a generous helping of golden brown roasted potatoes, and a large loaf of marble rye, washed down with any kind of unfiltered wheat beer.But whatever you do__nd remember this, as it can be a matter of life or death__on__ put any sort of fruit in the beer. Fruit doesn__ belong in beer.
Just behind his jaw bones a tiny movement was perceptible, like the movement of gills in a fish.
Franklin Fletcher dreamed of luxury in the form of tiger-skins and beautiful women. He was prepared, at a pinch, to forgo the tiger-skins. Unfortunately the beautiful women seemed equally rare and inaccessible. At his office and at his boarding-house the girls were mere mice, or cattish, or kittenish, or had insufficiently read the advertisements.
How happy I might be, if only she was less greedy, better tempered, not addicted to raking up old grudges, more affectionate, with slightly yellower hair, slimmer, and about twenty years younger! But what is the good of expecting such a woman to reform?
There are some young almond tress, which ordinarily look as if drawn by a childish hand. Now, as the wind sets their weak branches gibbering, they seem like shamanistic scratches on the white bone of the brittle bright night.