Sublime

Marty, who was always amused by my painful

Miller could not always control his instincts, but he trusted them.

‘Yes, yes, give me a coroner who is a good coursing man,’ said Mr Vincy, jovially.

Miller shook his head and patted the moped’s saddle. The grimy plastic had been patched up in several places with gaffer tape. ‘This’ll do me,’ he said. ‘Cheap and cheerful, like I am.’ Xiu nodded. ‘It’s also unreliable and makes strange noises.’ ‘Was that you making a joke?’ Xiu looked a little alarmed. ‘It certainly wasn’t intentional,’ she said.

Marty Feldman: Excuse me, is this seat occupied? He points to the seat next to JC in the otherwise empty, spacious carriage. John Cleese: No. MF puts case overhead and sits down as close as possible to JC and fidgets. Pause.

Bradley was one of the most charming people Rudi had ever met, but he could never recall having seen the man actually smile. Just quick grins here and there, and body language absolutely loaded with bonhomie.

He had a sort of sunken depth of expression, and a grave, slow smile, suggesting no great quickness of wit, but an unimpassioned intensity of feeling which promised well for Martha’s happiness. He had little of the light, inexpensive urbanity of his countrymen, and more of a sort of heavy sincerity in his gaze which seemed to suspend response until