Grander still were the stone houses on the ground, and Arien's was the grandest of all, shining with gemstones, edged by intricate, crafted gutterwork, gargoyles of young elves at play and the like […]

A light tossing to and fro and still rapidly advancing showed that one of the newcomers carried a lantern.

In recognition of the charge of chilly, mechanized disembodiment often leveled at network theory and posthumanist philosophy, I propose to fleshify world literature's map, taking flesh as a tactile figure for both the materiality of inscription and the affective sensorium that pulses through the written.

One of the tragic authors, finding himself assaulted in the dark, had, by way of poinard, employed upon his adversary's throat a knife which lay upon the table, for the convenience of cutting cheese […].