📔 The Journal of Sir Walter Scott

[W]e came to Whittingham. Thence to Newcastle, where an obstreperous horse retarded us for an hour at least.

What frightens and disgusts me is those fearful letters from those who have been long dead, to those who linger on their wayfare through this valley of tears.

[W]hat better is an old fellow, mauled with rheumatism and other deplorables.