I will argue that this phenomenon may help partially to explain the increasing extravagance and decreasing folkloricness of these works.

He looked to be in fine shape, sitting glassy-eyed behind the wheel, staring straight at the narrow two-lane highway, holding a steady-as-she-goes course of fifty miles an hour.

William Conqerour when he invaded this Iland, chanced at his arrival to be gravelled, and one of his feet stuck so fast in the sand, that he fell to the ground.

When enough collects, the stove is starved for oxygen and the flame goes out in a spawn of tiny, velvety, soot balls from every crack.