There were cracked head stones, dead flowers and weeds coming through the ground. Even the trees looked lifeless. --The Body By the Tree

I stared into the man's lifeless eyes. His face was blue, but it could've been from the cold. His body was bloated, but he could've just been fat. None of this explained the crows lining up on the tree branch though. --The Body By the Tree

A bloody guy in overalls, wearing a straw hat, began chasing us. He held a saw, pointing it at us. We were gonna die! --The Body By the Tree

If life throws you a few bad notes or vibrations, don't let them interrupt or alter your song.

After a few brief simple moments, he found her neck, kissing the nape as if it were a peach, grazing her skin barely, causing her to moan out a small tiny little whimper. Before she could take another rbreath, his lips met hers in rapture, and suddenly, she was lost within the tragic abyss of falling beneath a lovebinding spell.

There was only one thing about his own appearance which really pleased Hercule Poirot, and that was the profusion of his moustaches, and the way they responded to grooming and treatment and trimming. They were magnificent. He knew of nobody else who had any moustache half as good.