For Women that were addicted to Bacchanal Sports, preſently ran to the Ivy and pluck'd it off, tearing it in pieces with their Hands, and knawing it with their Mouths, ſo that they are not altogether to be disbelieved, that ſay it hath an infatuating and delirating Spirit in it, tranſporting and bereaving of the Senſes, […]

[…] there are no words to describe the way she negotiated the abyss between her dreams, those wakings strange as her sleepings.

However, you are right to suspect that there is some connection between my carefully considered opinion of the Hebrew people and this marvellous recital which your waxy ears, full of the cheesy gunk of the shtetl, have been so fortunate to hear.

Bob had amassed a considerable stockpile of double entendres from his days working as a barker for a strip joint.