There is such a rich thesaurus now of things that I have said that have been, one way or another, through what alchemy I do not know, somehow misconstrued, that it would really take me too long to engage in a full global itinerary of apology to all concerned.

From hence arises the complexional disposition of some of your guides to pull every thing in pieces.

With a single tap on its screen, the device can take over any one of the millions of televisions connected to a Google Chromecast digital media player that happens to be within Wi-Fi range and force it to play Astley's canonical “Never Gonna Give You Up” music video—or any other equally annoying or embarrassing YouTube clip of the prankster’s choosing. […] But Petro nonetheless imagines a rickmote-wielding hacker moving slowly through around a dense residential area and wirelessly rickrolling one hapless Chromecast owner after another.

I may cast my readers under two general divisions: the mercurial and the saturnine. The first are the gay part of my disciples, who require speculations of wit and humour; the others are those of a more solemn and sober turn, who find no pleasure but in papers of morality and sound sense.