Nor are violets blue. Violets are violet. That is why they are called violets, and that is why it is called violet.
I cannot understand those who profess to have "booked a table" for this evening. How do you know that she even likes snooker?
I have never sent a card for this occasion, and I have only ever received one. It was from a girl at school who, like me, is now 38, but who, unlike me, is now a grandparent. Some bullets are well and truly dodged.
Anyway, while not all roses are red, the blood of the martyrs is.
By the miracle of cyberspace, I bring you the Flower-Crowned Skull of St Valentine, which may be venerated at the Basilica of Santa Maria in Cosmedin, in Rome.
Far more edifying than anything else today, as I am sure that we can all agree.
Ora pro nobis.
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