It is at once momentary and astonishingly intimate--to be displayed before the eyes of a foreigner. And there is a lonely hill-top where no one ever comes, and yet it is seen by me who was lately driving down Piccadilly on an omnibus. And what I should like would be to get out among the fields, sit down and hear the grasshoppers, and take up a handful of earth--Italian earth, as this is Italian dust upon my shoes. Jacob heard them crying strange names at railway stations through the night. The train stopped and he heard frogs croaking close by, and he wrinkled back the blind cautiously and saw a vast strange marsh all white in the moonlight. The carriage was thick with cigar smoke, which floated round the globe with the green shade on it. The Italian gentleman lay snoring with his boots off and his waistcoat unbuttoned.... And all this business of going to Greece seemed to Jacob an intolerable weariness--sitting in hotels by oneself and looking at monuments--he'd have done better to go to Cornwall with Timmy Durrant....

Source code & documentation at https://github.com/writecrow/lorem_gutenberg. API version at /demo/api