The spoon was her secret, when I stirred it below the rough milky surface that was her mind; a fortress my curiosity and desire could not penetrate.
He flew down the stairs, because he was the spirit of this morning, the wind that brought the rain, and he was the spring; the spring that melted the ice of yesterday’s storm. What kid wouldn’t be? It was Christmas morning.
She was a tigress, eyeing her opponents with a quiet fierceness. She could win this chess tournament, if her moves were thunder on the table, her reflexes lightning in the air, her strategy a midnight flood; you don’t know you’re doomed until it’s too late.
Accident
Africa
brilliant
children
collect
connect
dented
hundred
instruct
liquid
luckily
massive
nodded
object
oddly
shiver
signal
specific
subject
subtract
Madison’s version of the speech and press clauses, introduced in the House of Representatives on June 8, 1789, provided: “The people shall not be deprived or abridged of their right to speak, to write, or to publish their sentiments; and the freedom of the press, as one of the great bulwarks of liberty, shall be inviolable.” The special committee rewrote the language to some extent, adding other provisions from Madison’s draft, to make it read: “ The freedom of speech and of the press, and the right of the people peaceably to assemble and consult for their common good, and to apply to the government for redress of grievances, shall not be infringed.” In this form it went to the Senate, which rewrote it to read: “That Congress shall make no law abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press, or the right of the people peaceably to assemble and consult for their common good, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.” Subsequently, the religion clauses and these clauses were combined by the Senate. The final language was agreed upon in conference.
