There was sand in our eyes, sand in our teeth, sand in our suppers, sand dancing in the spring at the bottom of the kettle, for all the world like porridge beginning to boil.
眼睛里是沙,牙缝里是沙,晚饭里是沙;铁锅底的泉水中也有沙粒跳动,活像刚开始沸腾的粥。
— Robert Louis Stevenson · Treasure Island · XIX · Narrative Resumed by Jim Hawkins: The Garrison in the Stockade —