One morning–during the record cold spell of 1851–a big menacing black bird, the likes of which had never been seen before, soared over the crude mill town of Magog, hard by the Vermont border, sweeping low again and again. And then the murders began.
Trust yourself. You know more than you think you do. And then the murders began.
The ship arced out of a golden sky and landed with a whoop and a wallop that cut down a mile of lush vegetation. And then the murders began.
The evening before Simon’s Mass, Baard Petersson’s galleass lay in to the landing-place at Birgsi. And then the murders began.
The Law of the Jungle — which is by far the oldest law in the world — has arranged for almost every kind of accident that may befall the Jungle People, till now its code is as perfect as time and custom can make it. And then the murders began.
You don’t know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, but that ain’t no matter.
That book was made by Mr. Mark Twain, and he told the truth, mainly. And then the murders began.
If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth.
And then the murders began.
Riverrun, past Eve and Adam’s, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.
And then the murders began.
Someone must have slandered Josef K., for one morning, without having done anything truly wrong, he was arrested.
And then the murders began.
Somewhere in la Mancha, in a place whose name I do not care to remember, a gentleman lived not long ago, one of those who has a lance and ancient shield on a shelf and keeps a skinny nag and a greyhound for racing.
And then the murders began.
Mother died today. Or maybe it was yesterday. I can’t be sure.
And then the murders began.
It was 7 minutes after midnight. The dog was lying on the grass in the middle of the lawn in front of Mrs Shears’ house. Its eyes were closed. It looked as if it was running on its side, the way dogs run when they think they are chasing a cat in a dream. But the dog was not running or asleep. The dog was dead. There was a garden fork sticking out of the dog. The points of the fork must have gone all the way through the dog and into the ground because the fork had not fallen over. I decided that the dog was probably killed with the fork because I could not see any other wounds in the dog and I do not think you would stick a garden fork into a dog after it had died for some other reason, like cancer for example, or a road accident. And then the murders began.
The moon blew up without warning and for no apparent reason. And then the murders began.
Nothing ever begins. And then the murders began.
On Friday noon, July the twentieth, 1714, the finest bridge in all Peru broke and precipitated five travellers into the gulf below. And then the murders began.
Prince Karl Eusebius von Liechtnestein watched Istvan Janoszi smile nervously as he was ushered into the oak-paneled room. And then the murders began.
“Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents,” grumbled Jo, lying on the rug. And then the murders began.
I like the ones where the grammar tense and the tone match between the first line and the second. Sadly, this one doesn’t quite match. But it’s closer than my last one.
"One of the most arresting images of the twentieth century is a photo of Earthrise, taken in 1968 by a human traveler in orbit around the Moon. And then the murders began.
“WELL, PRINCE, Genoa and Lucca are now no more than private estates of the Bonaparte family. And then the murders began.”
“A squat grey building of only thirty-four stories. Over the main entrance the words, Central London Hatchery and Conditioning Centre, and, in a shield, the World State’s motto, Community, Identity, Stability. And then the murders began.”
Scarlet O’Hara was not beautiful, but men seldom realized it when caught by her charm as the Tarleton twins were. And then the murders began.