The bitter laugh laughs at that which is not good, it is the ethical laugh. The hollow laugh laughs at that which is not true, it is the intellectual laugh. Not good! Not true! Well well. But the mirthless laugh is the dianoetic laugh, down the snout — Haw! — so.

In Honolulu, Nancy Peacock, an architect, said her clients increasingly requested “punees,” as daybeds are known in Hawaii — sometimes on the lanai, the covered porch of the house.

They reached a crossroads in the forest, at which they had to turn in loose sand and struggle up a slope. The wheels of the gun carriages sank in the sand and the horses, as exhausted and undernourished as the men, could not budge them, nor did the exertions of the gun crews help. Yaroslav led his men to the aid of the cheerful, bullet-headed sergeant major, and they got two of the guns moving, but the sergeant major had to harness eight horses instead of six to each of the others, and the whole column was held up yet again.

The path to my fixed purpose is laid with iron rails, whereon my soul is grooved to run.