it is in shape like a Gudgeon, and both the Latines and we, call it the Whales-guide; for, she doth ever follow him, suffering her selfe, as easily to be led and turned by him, as a ship is directed and turned by a sterne[…].
Let's get these men together in a room and I would suggest feed them bread and water and throw away the key until they come together
[…] for his entire adult life he'd seen in twilight a corpuscularity, as of the graininess of the high-speed film necessary for photography under conditions of low ambient light […]
But before Smallbones was summoned, he had time to whisper to one or two of the conspirators He's gone. It was enough; in less than a minute the whisper was passed throughout the cutter. "He's gone!' was siffilated above and below, until it met the ears of even Corporal Van Spitter, who had it from a marine.
He's gone.
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