Don't cook that chicken - it still has feathers. - Arthur M. Jolly

One of those monstrosities that nature so cruelly inflicts upon her world, like a two headed calf or a servant with ginger eyebrows.

The waves round the horn will toss us to and fro, to and fro like a rubber duckie in the bathtub of an angry God.

Writing is nothing less than thought transference, the ability to send one's ideas out into the world, beyond time and distance, taken at the value of the words, unbound from the speaker.