Their laughter was like the stridulation of the ghosts of grasshoppers.
Math. It__ your favorite subject. Which surprises you. Last year your teacher tried to convince you that you had a real __ptitude_ for math, but all you got in the end was a B minus. The truth is you weren__ even trying. But then you got low Cs and Ds in all your other classes and you weren__ trying there, either, so maybe you are good at math after all. You like it because either you__e right or you__e wrong. Not like social studies and definitely not like English, where you always have to explain your answers and support your opinions. With math it__ right or it__ wrong and you__e done with it. But even that__ changing, my teacher said now you have to explain how you solved the problem and support your answer, saying that having the right answer isn__ as important as explaining how you got it and bam, just like that, you hate math.
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Math. It__ your favorite subject. Which surprises you. Last year your teacher tried to convince you that you had a real __ptitude_ for math, but all you got in the end was a B minus. The truth is you weren__ even trying. But then you got low Cs and Ds in all your other classes and you weren__ trying there, either, so maybe you are good at math after all. You like it because either you__e right or you__e wrong. Not like social studies and definitely not like English, where you always have to explain your answers and support your opinions. With math it__ right or it__ wrong and you__e done with it. But even that__ changing, my teacher said now you have to explain how you solved the problem and support your answer, saying that having the right answer isn__ as important as explaining how you got it and bam, just like that, you hate math.
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They say revenge is a dish best served cold. This isn__ correct. Revenge is a dish best served lukewarm or at room temperature (depending on the room) with a side of sauerkraut lightly sprinkled with pepper, a generous helping of golden brown roasted potatoes, and a large loaf of marble rye, washed down with any kind of unfiltered wheat beer.But whatever you do__nd remember this, as it can be a matter of life or death__on__ put any sort of fruit in the beer. Fruit doesn__ belong in beer.
Just behind his jaw bones a tiny movement was perceptible, like the movement of gills in a fish.
Franklin Fletcher dreamed of luxury in the form of tiger-skins and beautiful women. He was prepared, at a pinch, to forgo the tiger-skins. Unfortunately the beautiful women seemed equally rare and inaccessible. At his office and at his boarding-house the girls were mere mice, or cattish, or kittenish, or had insufficiently read the advertisements.
At some point, even the greatest misery begins to fade. Life, or what passes for life, plods on in it's own unending weary footsteps, and somehow we plod along with it, if we stay lucky.
How happy I might be, if only she was less greedy, better tempered, not addicted to raking up old grudges, more affectionate, with slightly yellower hair, slimmer, and about twenty years younger! But what is the good of expecting such a woman to reform?