[…] I shouted, though with inward misgivings on account of my game leg; and we started off towards camp as fast as we could go — which is not saying much, as I could only get over the ground in a dot-and-go-one sort of way.
You who can smash the idols, do so with a good courage; but do not be too fierce with the idolaters,—they worship the best thing they know.
She really was a most charming girl, and might have passed for a captive fairy, whom that truculent Ogre, Old Barley, had pressed into his service.
Now we are liberal with our innermost secrets, spraying them into the public ether with a generosity our forebears could not have imagined. Where we once sent love letters in a sealed envelope, or stuck photographs of our children in a family album, now such private material is despatched to servers and clouds operated by people we don't know and will never meet.
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