Never was even washerwoman more untidy. A cap all rags, from which the hair came straggling in elf-locks over a face which generally looked red-hot, surmounted by an old bonnet, originally black, now rusty, and so twisted into crooks and bends that its pristine shape was unguessable […]

[…] I was part of the project selection team that met each year at the Office of Naval Research, to accept or reject funding requests. […] Of course, the projects that made it up to our top level had already been triaged by lower sponsoring commands. One of the briefers was a real comedian, introducing himself as from the Department of Redundancy Department—a phrase I am fond of quoting in my own talks since then.

The symphonious sound of fifty skilled musicians filled the concert hall.

Beautiful bodies lying on the beach, sunning their bronzed limbs.