The cord over the washing machine, the braided one, is waiting joyously for the teeth.
Smoothly morphing his skill and experience, artist Gil Formosa shape-shifts from animation to comics, cartoon to realistic, illustration to art direction.
[T]here is one area that has heretofore been neglected, and that is a systematic reading of the poems which science fiction poets have designated as superior.
Rhysling's vision stands as a metaphor for all science fiction poetry, and perhaps for all science fiction: we write in verse what we cannot see with our eyes.
I am at this particular moment working from the assumption that you understand the majority of what I am writing here. I am, then, assuming that most of these sentences are accessible. To do that, I have to make some assumptions about my audience.
the lighting of a candle / and the speaking of a name