I’m leaving shortly for a long weekend of beer and naps at my in-laws’ farm. So here’s one more from George Eliot to tide you all over. It comes from her book Middlemarch, I believe, but I stand to be corrected.
“Humphrey finds everybody charming. He will even speak well of the bishop.”
This in turn reminds me of a book on the ruins of English castles. One in particular had been abandoned several centuries ago due to a serious fire. The culprit, once caught and pointedly asked why he had started the conflagration could utter, in his defense, nothing more than, “I thought the bishop was inside”.