At grief so deep the tongue must wag in vain; the language of our sense and memory lacks the vocabulary of such… — Dante Alighieri Copy Share Image
Ye monsters of the bubbling deep, Your Maker's praises spout; Up from the sands ye codlings peep, And wag your tails about. — Cotton Mather Copy Share Image
Your death and my death are mainly of importance to ourselves. The black plumes will be stripped off our hearses within the… — Alexander Smith Copy Share Image
What is Camille Paglia doing, writing that an actress as gifted as Anne Heche has the mental depth of a pancake? How… — Clive James Copy Share Image
