Whenever one passed by an officer's quarters he invariably invited one to come and to partake of something, and however little he had for himself, he gave you of his best. It was quite extraordinary to see what a fuss they made about a guest. The first example I had of this was in the train from Kharbin to Mukden, when I was in General Holodovsky’s carriage.

Although the Vienna Literary Agreement had no immediate results, it is highly significant that among the many competing Croatian philological schools the ‘vukovians’ (Pero Budmani, Tomo Maretić, Ivan Broz, Franjo Iveković), the most ardent defenders of Serbo-Croat linguistic unity, became dominant in the 1890s and succeeded in imposing the principles of the Agreements. To be sure, even the vukovians sometimes called their language ‘Croat’.

The fact that the Yongle emperor was therefore a usurper, regicide and nepoticide (nephew-killer) made compiling the Veritable Record – or official history – of his reign a most dangerous scholarly post. The official given this ticklish task managed to survive several drafts, finally producing one that pleased his master as it omitted the dead nephew's reign altogether.

How meek and shrunken did that haughty Tarmac become as it slunk by the wide circle of asphalt of the yellow sort, that was loosely strewn before the great iron gates of Lady Hall as a forerunner of the consideration that awaited the guests of Rupert, Earl of Kare, […].