Sublime

I had never scorned a woman myself, but Pongo Twistleton once scorned an aunt of his, flatly refusing to meet her son Gerald at Paddington and give him lunch and see him off to school at Waterloo, and he never heard the end of it.

They are not particularly bad men. But they are not good men either. They are of no real importance. They are simply a part of the decoration.

The Phantom Tollbooth

Mark said, ‘Perhaps they came to give a warning.’ Imitating a stern, ghostly voice, he went on, ‘Do not build a tearoom at Trelowarth.’

indelible

Every day meant two scoops out of the kibble. The bag became an hourglass counting down their final days with Belinda.

for gold conjures up a mist about a man, more destructive of all his old senses and lulling to his feelings