Twas brillig and the slithy toves did gyre gimble in the wabe. And then the murders began.
Yea! An Eric Flint fan!
The night before he went to London, Richard Mayhew was not enjoying himself. And then the murders began.
Yep. and in your honor, the first sentence from the very latest novel (not in bookstores until early April).
The brow of the Prime Minister of the United States of Europe was furrowed with doubt piled atop doubtfulness—doubt with respect to the proposal being made, and doubtfulness concerning the motives of the proposer. And then the murders began.
His wife had held him in her arms as if she could keep death away from him. And then the murders began.
As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster. And then the murders began.
The week before I left my family and Florida and the rest of my minor life to go to boarding school in Alabama, my mother insisted on throwing me a going-away party. And then the murders began.
Arma virumque cano, Troiae qui primus ab oris
Italiam, fato profugus, Laviniaque venit
litora, multum ille et terris iactatus et alto
vi superum saevae memorem Iunonis ob iram.
Caedes deinde coepit.
One warm night four children stood in front of a bakery. No one knew them. No one knew where they had come from.” And then the murders began.
My father’s family name being Pirrip, and my Christian name Philip, my infant tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more explicit than Pip. So, I called myself Pip, and came to be called Pip. And then the murders began.
I first met Dean not long after my wife and I split up. And then the murders began.
Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
And then the murders, well, continued, actually.
The atmospheric dust count was up today. And then the murders began.
For sale: baby clothes, never used. And then the murders began.
Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it: and Scrooge’s name was good upon 'Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail.
For the murders had already begun, you see.
It’s 9:00 on a Saturday,
The regular crowd shuffles in.
There’s an old man sitting next to me
And that’s when the murders begin.
Brilliant!!
The need for secrecy was constant. And then the murders began.
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
And then the murders began.
Early morning Manhattan,
Ocean winds blow on the land.
The Movie-Palace is now undone,
The all-night watchmen have had their fun.
Sleeping cheaply on the midnight show,
It’s the same old ending-time to go – Get out!
It seems they cannot leave their dream.
There’s something moving in the sidewalk steam,
And then the murders began on Broadway.
Arma virumque canō, Trōiae quī prīmus ab orīs
Ītaliam, fātō profugus, Lāvīniaque vēnit
lītora, multum ille et terrīs iactātus et altō
vī superum saevae memorem Iūnōnis ob īram;
multa quoque et bellō passūs, dum conderet urbem,
inferretque deōs Latiō, genus unde Latīnum,
Albānīque patrēs, atque altae moenia Rōmae.
Caedes deinde coepit.