Passing the third checkpoint, the third smiling [sic] state policeman, a fellow by the name of R. C. Anderson, raises his big silver-watched wrist and touches the brim of his gray felt Stetson (yes, he does) as one faintly remembers Wendell Corey once doing from high on a Canadian Mountie snow peak overlooking something like a distressed Linda Darnell.

In response to a hypothetical question, the psychiatrist stated that quite probably Miss Lynch's abnormal brainwave pattern and behavioral difficulties were caused by the head injury she received in the powderpuff football game.

My stress and frustration resulted in a spastic colon and the need for weeks of medication. While on the mend, another avenue [for funding] was suggested to me - individual Jewish philanthropists.

...and the loudest sound in the lonely fields was when, adventuring too near some late brood, the partridge sought to deceive by a plaintive cry and seeming helplessness, crossing before your very feet, till, when drawn to a sufficient distance, suddenly the air vibrated to the flutter of her active pinions.