Close up, the workmanship that went into each ripple and shadowy layer of tulle was inimitably precious, yet somehow the designers successfully dodged the hazard of veering into overdone froufrou.
For with wild cries and a noise of skirling pipes and shrill horns blowing, the whole of that vile rabble came sweeping off the hill-top and down the slope right past their hiding-place.
People dreaded the new moon for many many years until a wise man taught them the three things Nian was afraid of, loud noises, fire and the color of red.
Or, a sudden jerk: my head snapped back in the accident. To snap something off is to break it, and it makes a nice satisfying snap sound. You can snap a twig off a branch.
And please, fairly obviously, do not inflate your lovely life jacket until you've actually left the aircraft, at which point toggle up, inflate away and whistle all you like.