"When he wrote the early part, he was calm and collected; the last entries, so straggling, so ragged, and so badly written, were made when he was fresh from the crime, excited, upset, little master of himself.
— from The Rome Express by Arthur Griffiths

The air was bright and clear, the long, easy swells suggested nothing but good treatment, and the breeze was almost caressing in its softness.
— from A Year in a Yawl A True Tale of the Adventures of Four Boys in a Thirty-foot Yawl by Russell Doubleday