unearths some literary gems.
From Caravaggio's Angel, by Ruth Brandon:
An oak wood at the field's edge photosynthesized in the sunshine.
An electric storm was flickering on the horizon, spasmodically lighting the far-off hills like a faulty million-watt bulb.
I decided to join him on his high horse--there was plenty of room for two.
My questions would have introduced a note--more than a note, a whole chord, a virtual orchestra--of uncertainty.