My heart stood still. I clutched at the windscreen for support, and what-whatted.
"The great thing to remember, the thing to bear in mind and keep the attention fixed on, is that he meant well."
My heart stood stiller. In your walks about London you will sometimes see bent, haggard figures that look as if they had recently been caught in some powerful machinery. They are those fellows who got mixed up with Catsmeat when he was meaning well.
(from The Mating Season, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)