The Turks, you see, have usurped a reputation for strength.

Besides, there are no longer any Turks except at masked balls and in the Champs-Elysees where they sell dates.

One of my friends knows the East and he assures me that all the natives of it were born in the Rue Coquenard." "That is smart," said Rodolphe.
"You think so ?" observed the critic, "I will put it in my article." "Here is my analysis of the piece, it is to the point," resumed Rodolphe.
"Yes, but it is short." "By putting in dashes and developing your critical opinion it will fill some space." "I have scarcely time, my dear fellow, and then my critical opinion will not fill enough space either." "You can stick in an adjective at every third word." "Cannot you tail on to your analysis a little, or rather a long criticism of the piece, eh ?" asked the critic.
"Humph," said Rodolphe.

"I have certainly some opinions upon tragedy, but I have printed them three times in 'The Beaver' and 'The Scarf of Iris.'" "No matter, how many lines do your opinions fill ?" "Forty lines." "The deuce, you have strong opinions.

Well, lend me your forty lines." "Good," thought Rodolphe, "if I turn out twenty francs' worth of copy for him he cannot refuse me five.