Engrossed in the study of a small ivory shatranj board with pieces of ebony and horn, […] the African held the place nearest the fire […]
What is happiness, anyhow? Is this one of its hours, or the like of it?—so impalpable—a mere breath, an evanescent tinge?
[…] oil astream from his engine, he came on till a burst of incendiaries hit him flush in the fuel tank.
Not only did the producers cast actors in their late twenties but also had the audacity to assign Michael B. Jordan (Fruitside Station, That Awkward Moment) to the role of the Human Torch/Johnny Storm. What has happened here is a wonderful example of racebending.
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