That ceiling was covered with square compartments, each filled with strange figures, flowers, fruit, heraldic devices—all blazoned in the richest colours,...

She passed the answering machine as she brought over a tray with the coffee and a vanilla slice that she′d divided unevenly. ‘Homemade?’ I asked, as she handed me the larger portion.

It's certainly wired into our language when we talk about, 'C'mon, be a man about it,' or 'Man up.'

Having deposited our mournful burden upon tressels within this region of horror, we partially turned aside the yet unscrewed lid of the coffin, and looked upon the face of the tenant.