the structural shift from a literary to postliterary culture

[…] I fancied Cuthbert's reddening face / Beneath its garniture of curly gold, / Dear fellow, till I almost felt him fold / An arm in mine to fix me to the place / That way he used.

The pilot reported the findings of his reconnoitre.

How did she deflect back to swimming again? She grins. “Don't look so upset. I can watch you. I'll be your cheering section!” Asciugamano! That's all I need. Mom has been much less helicoptery[…]