One of the patients, in the early stages of paresis, addressed the assemblage, and in the time allotted to him he was unable to portray fully his conception of his wealth and his own personal puissance, so great were his grandiose ideas. He had become a billionaire, a trillionaire, a sextillionaire; he had thousands of wives, millions of children, and in an ordinary day through the work of a million men, each with a million hands, he had constructed a concrete bridge across the Atlantic.

She didn't even know she was in trouble.

One might be tempted to read this conjoining of exoticism and sensuality as a Parnassian exercise, until one reads the rest of the poem: […]

It is a point of pride for us, military and civilian alike, that we take the utmost care to avoid collateral damage.