John Henry Newman was as English as roast beef, even if he lacked a passion for cricket.

It's not the beef, Henry. It's the last 23 years!

Mustard's no good without roast beef.

They cannot make it say what they want it to say. And this is the beginning and the end of the case for retaining the old language: If the churches give it up, who will remember how to say what is said?

The Ely Experience: 'Private Morals and Public Truth'

[Its] language is as bare as a monk's cell, and as uninviting.