Alan

“Come, Watson, come!" he cried. The game is afoot.”
― Arthur Conan Doyle, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes

“It was November--the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep, sad hymns of the sea, passionate wind-songs in the pines. Anne roamed through the pineland alleys in the park and, as she said, let that great sweeping wind blow the fogs out of her soul.”
― L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables