theurlgoeshere:
“ unmappable-territory:
“ irisbleufic:
“ froggybangbang:
“ katzedecimal:
“ belphegor1982:
“ flo-nelja:
“ holyfiremolotov:
“ pleasecallmesurely:
“ cosetteskywalker:
“ lottiethroughthelookingglass:
“ sunshine-and-the-catsuit:
“...

theurlgoeshere:

unmappable-territory:

irisbleufic:

froggybangbang:

katzedecimal:

belphegor1982:

flo-nelja:

holyfiremolotov:

pleasecallmesurely:

cosetteskywalker:

lottiethroughthelookingglass:

sunshine-and-the-catsuit:

sophygurl:

maradyeries:

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. And then the murders began.

Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself. And then the murders began.

In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And then the murders began.

The phantom of the opera did exist. And then the murders begun.

Maman died today. And then the murders began. 

It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. And then the murders began.

In 1815 Monsieur Charles-Francois-Bienvenu Myriel was Bishop of Digne. And then the murders began.

For a long time I used to go to bed early. And then the murders began.

The grandmother didn’t want to go to Florida. And then the murders began.

It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents - except at occasional intervals where it was checked by violent gusts of wind that swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame that struggled against the darkness. And then the murders began.

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. And then the murders began.

It was a nice day.

All the days had been nice. There had been rather more than seven of them so far, and rain hadn’t been invented yet. But clouds massing east of Eden suggested that the first thunderstorm was on its way, and it was going to be a big one.

And then the murders began.

Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the Western Spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun.

And then the murders began.

Call me Ishmael. And then the murders began.

“I hope I will be able to confide everything to you, as I have never been able to confide in anyone, and I hope you will be a great source of comfort and support.”

And then the murders began.