The more we peeled, the more peel there seemed to be left on; by the time we had got all the peel off and all the eyes out, there was no potato left - at least none worth speaking of.

You can never rouse Harris. There is no poetry about Harries - no wild yearning for the unattainable. Harris never "weeps, he knows not why" If Harris's eyes fill with tears, you can bet it is because Harris has been eating raw onions, or has put too much Worcester over his chop.

...they cursed us - not with a common cursory curse, but with long, carefully-thought-out, comprehensive curses, that embraced the whole of our career, and went away into the distant future, and included all our relations, and covered everything connected with us - good, substantial curses.

We, in this age, do not see the beauty of that dog. We are too familiar with it. It is like the sunset and stars: we are not awed by their loveliness because they are common to our eyes. So it is with that china dog.