Sublime

“Don’t hurt him!” Beatrix Hathaway called out anxiously. “He’s a family pet!” The assembled guests glanced from Cam’s closed hands to the Hathaway girl’s apologetic face. “A pet? What a relief!” Lady Westcliff said calmly, staring down the length of the table at her husband’s blank countenance. “I thought it was some new English delicacy we were se

glacial exhalation.

cicerone

‘It is a pity there is no Morgan,’ she said. ‘He could help one to choose the morning gift. It would have to be something very nice so that one would not mind not having responsibilities. A St Bernard dog, perhaps.’

I was walking my dog in the park on a windy day when a walker’s hat blew off his head. My dog ran over and started eating his hat. The man said ‘Your dog is chewing my hat!’ I said ‘What do you expect me to do about it?’ He said ‘I don’t like your attitude’. I said ‘It wasn’t my hat he chewed, it was yours’.

anthropomorphically.”

the spring of her heroine’s errors, and of many of ours. That spring is a philanthropy, and even a generosity, secretly founded on gentility.

Ptolemaic