At twilight in the summer […] the mice come out. They […] eat the luncheon crumbs. Mr. Checkly, for instance, always brought his dinner in a paper parcel in his coat-tail pocket, and ate it when so disposed, sprinkling crumbs lavishly […] on the floor.

To save weight, good use is made of resin-bonded glass fibre.

Nor Wits, nor Chronicles could ere containe, The Hell-deepe Reaches, of my soundlesse Braine.

[…] and on top of all that, I got a puncture!