Sublime

We all know women can't organize—that they scrap like anything—are frightfully jealous."

She let out an exasperated huff. “The girls have already named it Hamlet. Would you have us eat a family pet, Mr. Ravenel?” “I would if it turned into bacon.”

Wherever her family went, she became the node that connected all wandering Americans worth knowing.

Indeed it is Julia Mills, peevish and fine, with a black man to carry cards and letters to her on a golden salver, and a copper-coloured woman in linen, with a bright handkerchief round her head, to serve her Tiffin in her dressing-room.

grok,”

fair land—let's call it 'Feminisia,'"

And Jeff said, "Nonsense, Terry—you know men like dogs better than women do—as a whole."

“Yes, poor man, he’s gone,” said the mayor. “And he’ll go on, planet after planet, seeking and seeking, and always and always he will be an hour late, or a half hour late, or ten minutes late, or a minute late. And finally he will miss out by only a few seconds. And when he has visited three hundred worlds and is seventy or eighty years old he will