Have we not God hys wrath, for Goddes wrath, and a thousand of the same stampe, wherein the corrupte orthography in the most hath been the sole or principal cause of corrupte prosodye in overmany?

From time to time, track-suited boys ran past them, with all the deadly purpose and humourless concentration of those who enjoyed Games.

Here, in distress that was consternation, and in fear that was panic, excitedly bobbed up and down a cowboy in bearskin chaps, vacuously repeating the exclamation, Oh God! Oh God! — the first division of it rising in inflection, the second division inflected fallingly with despair.

I'll be dashed if I squash in with any domestic staff.