How easy dost thou take all England up! From forth this morsel of dead royalty, The life, the right and truth of all this realm Is fled to heaven; and England now is left To tug and scamble and to part by the teeth The unowed interest of proud-swelling state.

If you write infinitively recursive code, you might generate an OOM error.

He continued to stare out the window, accompanied by Johnny's groans and the rhythmic squeaking of the rocking stool.

[…] I believe that it is this moral dimension of the division of intellectual labor that leads many of us to feel discomfort as we survey the detritus of our traditional roles, the havoc provoked by our attraction to and embracement of these powerful technologies.