Indeed, I have looked upon the fable of Sisyphus as an allegory, and that his wife was the stone which so perpetually rolled back upon his hands, effectually retarding his weary progress up-hill.

Grovel on the earth: aye, hide / In the dust thy purple pride!

Like the English language, the eukaryote cell is a chimera, a Frankenstein's monster, assembled from bits and pieces of genetic information...

Some pikey's chawed my bike.