We panicked again for a moment, but the wind switched direction without warning, and we slowly drifted away till we fetched up at Tsukuda island, where the Sumida runs into the bay.

a faded tablecloth

You invent nothing, you think you are inventing, you think you are escaping, and all you do is stammer out your lesson, the remnants of a pensum one day got by heart and long forgotten, life without tears, as it wept.

temporal blessings, whether such as concern the public […] or such as concern our particular