Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Turns of Phrase

While away on our long weekend, Robin and I read from G. K. Chesterton's Father Brown mystery tales. It is our first foray into the writings of this distinguished "man of letters" a century ago in England. A couple remarkable sentences:

The moon with her scimitar had now ripped up and rolled away all the storm-wrack ("The Secret Garden").

The menu . . . was written in a sort of super-French employed by cooks, but quite unintelligible to Frenchmen ("The Queer Feet").

He had never done anything - not even anything wrong ("The Queer Feet").

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