... fete-day. Oh, thou that wert of humankind—couched so— A beast of burden on this dunghill! oh! Bray to them, Mule! Oh, Bullock! bellow then! Since they have made thee blind, grope in thy den! Do something, Outcast One, that wast so grand! Who knows if thou putt'st forth thy poor maimed hand, There may be venging weapon within reach! Feel with both hands—with both huge arms go stretch Along the black wall of thy cellar. Nay, There may be some odd thing hidden away? Who ... — Poems • Victor Hugo
... replied Disco, in that quiet matter-of-course tone with which men generally receive axiomatic verities; "we is raither given to be swallered up with this world, which ain't surprisin' neither, seein' that we've bin putt into it, and are surrounded by it, mixed up with it, steeped in it, so to speak, an' can't werry ... — Black Ivory • R.M. Ballantyne
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