From Death of Anton, by Alan Melville:
***
Dodo the clown... is lying on top of his bed and turning over the pages of his Seven Pillars of Wisdom. Not reading, merely turning the pages.... [He] has been looking for a suitable place to begin reading the book ever since he bought it, but up to now has failed to find one.
***
Brother Robert had a perplexing habit of beginning a letter as though he were resuming a conversation which had been interrupted for a moment. He started in the middle, and ended in the same place.
***
"A novelist?"
"I've been talking to you for five minutes, and I haven't yet mentioned one of my masterpieces. Therefore I cannot be a novelist. Try again."
***
"You know that on Monday night the only people who matter are the newspaper critics, and so you play to their level."
"Up to it?" said Mr. Minto.
"Down to it."
***
At a certain chord from the band (or, more likely, at an uncertain chord, for the new trombone player had not yet accustomed himself to fitting in his blowing with the rapid succession of acts in the ring below him)....
***
The bangers arrived, heaped high on two enormous ashets. Claire had not believed there were so many sausages in captivitiy, and said so. Mr. Carey made a bad joke about missing links, and laughed for a long time at it.
***
No one should ever attempt to build a dam, however small, in a pale grey suit with a chalk stripe. Mr. Minto used, apart from bad language, mud and bricks and stones and divots.
***
[Double What-Not dept.]
At a rough guess, two hundred and fifty china ornaments were busily gathering dust on a number of shelves, cupboards, mantelpieces, whatnots, and what not around the room.
***
[Reminiscent of Anthropomorphized Weighing Machines in a Sitting Room dept.?]
There was a great deal of furniture, mainly upholstered in green plush, as well as a bird-cage (empty) which stood in the middle of the room, like a policeman directing traffic on point duty.
***
"The man thinks of nothing but his blooming vacuums. I hope he doesn't dream about them. It would be very awkward if he started giving me demonstrations in bed."
[I'm pretty sure this 1936 novel isn't intentionally referencing special "massage" attachments...]
