By slow Meander's margent green, / And in the violet-embroidered vale.

I hear the far-off curfew sound, / Over some wide-watered shore, / Swinging slow with sullen roar.

I am declinedInto the vale of years.

Mostly we don't get destroyed," John said. "Mostly we destroy ourselves.

I'm really kind of green on exactly what's going on. ... They're probably going to bring me along slow, and I'm going to try to learn as much as I can. If the opportunity presents itself, then I'll do my best to be ready for it.

What are you doing here?" she asked as she slowed from a jog to a walk and placed her hands on her hips. It would take her a few minutes to get her breathing back to normal. Longer if he kept smiling at her like that.
He shrugged. "I couldn't sleep. What about you?"
She opted for the obvious and filled her voice with as much sarcasm as she could. "I live here, actually