I Have Been Fighting Over Commas All

I Have To Confess That I Have So Rarely Experienced Triumph That I Cannot Claim To Know It Well Enough To Judge, But It Seems To Be At Best A Momentary Joy Followed Instantly By Sadness, And, Then, Of Necessity, By Wariness.

The Voodoo Priest And All His Powders Were As Nothing Compared To Espresso, Cappuccino, And Mocha, Which Are Stronger Than All The Religions Of The World Combined, And Perhaps Stronger Than The Human Soul Itself.

The Shelf Was Filled With Books That Were Hard To Read, That Could Devastate And Remake One's Soul, And That, When They Were Finished, Had A Kick Like A Mule.

Justice Came From A Fight Amid Complexities, And Required All The Virtues In The World Merely To Be Perceived.

She Knew Words No One Had Ever Heard Of, And She Used Words Every Day That Had Been Mainly Dead Or Sleeping For Hundreds Of Years.