It is at the Colinette that the dogs of Sark can best be studied - supposing that anyone wished to study them - as they lounge in the white dust, or snap at flies, or molest one another or scratch their ears with the claws of one of their back legs, their muzzles pointing at the sky, or while they lie in the warm dust meditating on the vicissitudes of life, and how mean a fortune is theirs with never a bitch to woo, for none, by law, are allowed on the island.
- Mervyn Peake, Mr. Pye, pp.8-9
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