There once was an old monk that lived up on top of a mountain. He walked 10 miles barefoot every day and had terrible breath due to his position on non-natural objects and foods.
He called himself The Truth-Carrier, but everyone in the small mountaineering town knew him as a super calloused fragile mystic with chronic halitosis.
I knew she was the one for me when we went walking through the evergreen trees.
It was love at firs site.
My friend dropped a box of Italian pastries on the floor.
I cannoli imagine what he felt at that moment.