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From phone to tablet to desktop web, Lotus was designed to work on a variety of mediums with no extra fuss.
Rules are set at low specificity levels making the styles easy to override. Lotus is stylish yet unopinionated leaving the design to you.
Works on Chrome, Firefox, Safari, Internet Explorer, Mobile Safari, Android Browser, and Opera Mini.
Concise yet self-explanatory class names that are explicit, and easy to remember.
This demo site is built using Lotus.
Lotus draws its typography inspiration from many sources. The main font used is Open Sans and the paragraphs have a base font size of 16px and a line-height of 24px. This can all be configured via the custom build tool.
Lotus is tiny and feisty. There's a lot of style for a little bit of bytes.— Doge
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On the 24th of February, 1810, the look-out at Notre-Dame de la Garde signalled the three-master, the Pharaon from Smyrna, Trieste, and Naples.
As usual, a pilot put off immediately, and rounding the Chateau d'If, got on board the vessel between Cape Morgion and Rion island.
Immediately, and according to custom, the ramparts of Fort Saint-Jean were covered with spectators; it is always an event at Marseilles for a ship to come into port, especially when this ship, like the Pharaon, has been built, rigged, and laden at the old Phocee docks, and belongs to an owner of the city.
When the young man on board saw this person approach, he left his station by the pilot, and, hat in hand, leaned over the ship's bulwarks.
He was a fine, tall, slim young fellow of eighteen or twenty, with black eyes, and hair as dark as a raven's wing; and his whole appearance bespoke that calmness and resolution peculiar to men accustomed from their cradle to contend with danger.
"Ah, is it you, Dantes?" cried the man in the skiff. "What's the matter? and why have you such an air of sadness aboard?"
We will leave Danglars struggling with the demon of hatred, and endeavoring to insinuate in the ear of the shipowner some evil suspicions against his comrade, and follow Dantes, who, after having traversed La Canebiere, took the Rue de Noailles, and entering a small house, on the left of the Allees de Meillan, rapidly ascended four flights of a dark staircase, holding the baluster with one hand, while with the other he repressed the beatings of his heart, and paused before a half-open door, from which he could see the whole of a small room.