He had reason to believe the stercoraceous flavour, condemned by prejudice as a stink, was, in fact, most agreeable to the organs of smelling.

Her wardrobers furnished the tapestries that swathed the walls and floors, built a tiered wooden stage, hung it with fine textiles […] and placed on it the solid silver font brought from Canterbury Cathedral for the occasion.

[T]he mine then becomes exposed to the most fearful results, where the workings have been opened, by the Air being driven backwards along the Airhead into the reservoirs of Gas formed in the upper cavities of the workings, and issuing into the Gate-road charged with the Gas to the firing point, causing an explosion, of which many familiar instances might be adduced.

When life tries to knock all the wind out of you / You've got to roll, roll, roll with the punches / If all life offers is black and blue / You've got to roll, roll, roll with the punches