What if he had known Wurtelbach since the days when they had a tent in the back yard and played Old Maid if it rained?
My dear Mrs. Wurtelbach
Her skin is like dusk on the eastern horizon, O can't you see it, O can't you see it, Her skin is like dusk on the eastern horizon . . . When the sun goes down.
There is in the American Museum of Natural History, a room devoted to Maya art.
The house of Conover
There was consternation in the house of Price Conover.
I sang in the morning, having arisen, a song-bird, from my dreamless sleep amid the shadows of the abyss.
The destruction of Tenochtitlan
The vulgarized sea persists the symbol of futility confronted with ironies.
The springs of guilty song
Dr. Mahaffy says in his essay "The Principles of the Art of Conversation," that artificiality is an evidence of some kind of dishonesty.