I burned a little on the floor, I spilt some on the counter and on my hands, and I let it dribble over my coat.

In five minutes I had made the room stink like a shebeen.

I loosened the collar of my shirt, and when I looked at myself in the cover of my watch I saw a specimen of debauchery which would have done credit to a Saturday night's police cell.
By this time the sun had gone down, but I thought it better to kindle no light.

It was the night of the full moon--for which reason, I supposed, Laputa had selected it--and in an hour or two the world would be lit with that ghostly radiance.

I sat on the counter while the minutes passed, and I confess I found the time of waiting very trying for my courage.