madlori:

stephrc79:

merindab:

quintessentialdefenestration:

elucubrare:

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.

Arma virumque cano, Troiae qui primus ab oris
Italiam, fato profugus, Laviniaque venit
litora, multum ille et terris iactatus et alto
vi superum saevae memorem Iunonis ob iram;
multa quoque et bello passus, dum conderet urbem,              
inferretque deos Latio, genus unde Latinum,
Albanique patres, atque altae moenia Romae.
Deinde homicidia coeperunt. 

Now that it’s all over, I may as well admit that there was a time during the rather funny affair of Rockmetteller Todd when I thought that Jeeves was going to let me down; the man had the appearance of being baffled. And then the murders began.

He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish. 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

Last night I dreamt of Manderley again. And then the murders began.

[it’s kind of amazing for how many of these “and then the murders began” actually sort of describes what actually does happen in the book]

“Where’s Papa going with that axe?” said Fern to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast. And then the murders began.

(Charlotte’s Web)