[…] after [reading] Virgil and Dante […] in an atmosphere trembling with eternal lamentations and on a soil drenched with unceasing showers of tears all the morning, every evening, lately, I am in a ball-room where flourishes a whip-syllabub of life, as if under our feet yawned no such realities. But I can chameleonize myself and enjoy all.

[…]the northern shoreline of Big Fresh Pond and the upper reaches of an unnamed brook known locally as the ale-wife dreen.

Ye greedy ged, ye have taken the very breath out o' me.

I have observed that there are only two types of eaters in this world - pickers and wolfers.