Browning Porter

No rest do they afford us, comrades. Cheap wreaths, not so far from thorns, they soon begin to itch. In bulk, too hard and thin for bedding, they'll scarcely stuff a sachet pillow, and under a big head crackle all night, inappropriate applause, with [...]

Cry me a river that runs to a sea of tears. Such pop-song idioms sop your grief in too much salty gravy; it's understatement to call them hyperbole. Besides! The water is warm and the body buoyant in its rocking arms. Where it's cold and windy is on [...]