Oh, Wise Young Judge.

Ham With Mustard Is A Meal Of Glory

The One Bach Piece I Learnt Made Me Feel I Was Being Repeatedly Hit On The Head With A Teaspoon.

People's Clothes Ought To Be Buried With Them.

Walking Down Belmotte Was The Oddest Sensation-- Every Step Took Us Deeper Into The Mist Until At Last It Closed Over Our Heads. It Was Like Being Drowned In The Ghost Of Water.

How I Wish I Lived In A Jane Austen Novel!