I was once, I remember, called to a patient who had received a violent contusion in his tibia, by which the exterior cutis was lacerated, so that there was a profuse sanguinary discharge […]
to grade land before building on it
The earth hath wept to hear my heaviness, Which causeless to suffer without redress The hugy oaks have roared in the wind; […]
Tabloids have their own language. Maybe it's because the pages are smaller than the broadsheet papers, or perhaps it's because they have to make room to fit all those pictures of Jordan in her knickers in each day, but tabloidese is a language and a skill peculiar to the red tops. Forget anything you learned in your grammar lessons at school.
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