He who dived in the swirling Maelstrom saw none to compare with them in horror: tentacular convolutions, tumid bulges, glaring orbs of sepian deformity, would have looked to him innocence beside such incarnations of hatefulness...

On the afternoon of the date mentioned the wind was blowing offshore and the tide was running in, forming sea pusses at intervals along the shore. We swam out to where the bar had been. Finding that it had shifted, we turned to come back and found that the ide had carried us into a sea puss, and that we were being swept seaward.

A pair of local pests, the thrip and white fly, made their way into the greenhouse through the air vents and hitchhiked into the conservatory on plants. Without controls in place, each female thrip can reproduce 200 offspring every week.

Chronic patients must learn to live with their condition.