History is bright and fiction dull with homely men who have charmed women.

If ever there was an aviary overstocked with jays it is that Yaptown-on-the-Hudson, called New York.

You can't appreciate home till you've left it, money till it's spent, your wife till she's joined a women's club, nor Old Glory till you see it hanging on a br…

Busy as a one-armed man with the nettle-rash pasting on wallpaper.

Fiction has to be plausible. All history has to do is happen.

England's sun was slowly setting o'er the hill-tops far away, Filling all the land with beauty at the close of one sad day; And its last rays kissed the forehe…

Luf lokez to luf & his leue takez, For to ende alle at onez & for euer twynne. By forty dayez wern faren, on folde no flesch styryed.