It is the prison that supports the image of the criminal […] he's lost when he's outside.

I earnestly recommend to those who are sensible of their own culpable deficiencies in these branches of information, or rather indeed I should say, of common education, to remain no longer in their present Cimmerianism.

Peter Weir's The Cars That Ate Paris (1974), for example, begins with two brothers driving through the small town of Paris, Australia, only to suddenly encounter — via flash cut — a blinding white light in the road.

“I wanna know whoze been tellin bout me!” “Telling what?” asked Bunny. “Thaz what I wanna know. What they been tellin?”