Victor and I are having a huge argument about whether or not to feed the foxen. Victor says yes, because they're adorable and— according to the neighbors—are quite tame. I say no, because we have a fat little pug who likes to frolic outside occasionally and I don't want to see him eaten. I thought we were on the same page about the fox, but then Victor went and threw an apple at it. And I was all, “What the fuck? We don't feed the foxen,” and he said, “I was throwing the apple at it to chase it away,” but Victor is a tremendous liar, and he didn't go to pick up the apple, probably because he knows that foxen love apple cider.

, vol. 1 ch. 24: I have in my youth oftentimes beene vexed to see a Pedant [tr. pedante] brought in, in most of Italian comedies, for a vice or sport-maker, and the nicke-name of Magister to be of no better signification amongst us.

Fret not thy ſelfe becauſe of euill doers, neither bee thou enuious againſt the workers of iniquitie.

The specifiers of the Freightliner network had the foresight to base the rail journey on carrying ISO containers which are 8ft wide and originally 8ft tall (although now increased to a height of 9ft 6ins), with a variety of lengths.