Roland jumped on the horse and with herculean strength picked her up one armed and plopped her down in front of him. “I've had my fill of mechanicals of late. Hold on.”

Put these ragges and cloutes vnder thine arme holes.

Nine months in England had restored his bony face to a pleasing wheyness, bleached the sun creases in his slender music-mastering hands.

One motive for procreating is to 'reproduce yourself'—to create a 'mini-me'.