A ship sails in the eye of the wind.

After casting the bronze statue, we filed down the flukes and spurs from the molding process.

However, the extent of memory-holing that occurred with Elder Poelman's talk was not only extensive and unprecedented (as far as we know) but altogether ironic, given that all this occurred during the actual year of 1984.

Of all the queer collections of humans outside of a crazy asylum, it seemed to me this sanitarium was the cup winner. […] When you're well enough off so's you don't have to fret about anything but your heft or your diseases you begin to get queer, I suppose.