A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthurs Court by Mark Twain Chapter 15 Page 13

the other man brast his shield, and down he goes, horse and man, over his horse-tail, and brake his neck, and then there’s another elected, and another and another and still another, till the material is all used up; and when you come to figure up results, you can’t tell one fight from another, nor who whipped; and as a picture, of living, raging, roaring battle, sho! why, it’s pale and noiseless — just ghosts scuffling in a fog.

Dear me, what would this barren vocabulary get out of the mightiest spectacle? — the burning of Rome in Nero’s time, for instance? Why, it would merely say, ‘Town burned down; no insurance; boy brast a window, fireman brake his neck!’ Why, that ain’t a picture!”

It was a good deal of a lecture, I thought, but it didn’t