Let wi gan and get some scran am starvin man! Let's go and get some food. I'm starving!

But, be our fortune what it may in respect to these, there remains another ear — our own mind's ear— still uneasy and uncontent.

Here, in fighter-pilot language, you're taught the real essential — dogfighting, man-against-man, plane-against-plane — and in a way they never taught us.

[A]s she stood by the grilled entrance waiting for an answer to the message on her card, she might have been looking into Hollywood. The bizarre débris of some recent picture, a decayed street scene in India, a great cardboard whale, a monstrous tree bearing cherries large as basketballs, bloomed there by exotic dispensation, autochthonous as the pale amaranth, mimosa, cork oak, or dwarfed pine.