This is peculiarly an age in which each of us may$$$ if he do but search diligently$$$ find the literature suited to his mental powers.

The least thing upset him on the links. He missed short putts because of the uproar of the butterflies in the adjoining meadows.

I don't know if you know it$$$ J.B.$$$ but you're the sort of fellow who causes hundreds to fall under suspicion when he's found stabbed in his library with a paper-knife of Oriental design.

I suppose half the time Shakespeare just shoved down anything that came into his head.

It was one of the dullest speeches I ever heard. The Agee woman told us for three quarters of an hour how she came to write her beastly book$$$ when a simple apology was all that was required.

Well$$$ you know$$$ there are limits to the sacred claims of friendship.

There are moments$$$ Jeeves$$$ when one asks oneself$$$ 'Do trousers matter?'<br>"The mood will pass$$$ sir."

I am reading six books at once$$$ the only way of reading; since$$$ as you will agree$$$ one book is only a single unaccompanied note$$$ and to get the full sound$$$ one needs ten others at the same time.

If people never did silly things$$$ nothing intelligent would ever get done.

Alas that he did not ask the question then! I still sorrow for him on that account. For when the sword was put into his hand$$$ it was a sign to him that he should ask. And I pity too his sweet host whom God's displeasure does not spare and who could have been freed from it by a question.