it didn't detract an iota from the single, impactful impression that Mrs. Glass, chez elle, made on a certain type of observer.
J.D. Salinger. Franny and Zooey, p.74 (1955)
---
he bounds from the earth, as if his entrails were hairs; le cheval volant, the Pegasus, chez les narines de feu*! When I bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk; he trots the air