Who could forbear smiling, to see my charmer, like a farcical dean and chapter, choose what was before chosen for her; and sagaciously (as they go in form to prayers, that God would direct their choice) pondering upon the different proposals, as if she would make me believe, she has a mind for some other?

I hope you saw her petticoat, six inches deep in mud,[…]and the gown which had been let down to hide it, not doing its office.

The political situation after the Year V elections developed into a war of position between rival factions, with muffled insurrectionary noises off supplied by bellicose neo-Jacobins and sabre-rattling royalists.

The airspeed was so low that there was insufficient elevator authority to recover from the stall.