I need to develop my white-square bishop.

The uterus was found to be no longer somewhat procident, owing evidently to the diminished size and weight, and a pessary was thought unnecessary.

When I think of the love my father never gave me I feel encased in a veil with steel threads. … Sometimes a happy thought can make me jump for joy, but I must be careful: if I jump too high, I'll bump into the veil. It doesn't hurt, but it always tinges my joy with sadness.

[H]e had provided vast quantities of strong beer, flip, rumbo, and burnt brandy, with plenty of Barbadoes water for the ladies […].