Eight Hundred and Thirteen Martyrs
There is no bombast, no similes, flowers, digressions, or unnecessary descriptions. Everything tends towards catastrophe. Castle of Otranto, H. Walpole “Here in the south, as I am sure you know,” said the priest, who was a little, pink-faced gnome of a man with thick-rimmed glasses, “we have an expression: Mamma li turchi! One tells it …