Bessie ambled at a clop while I waved at the state fair spectators. She bolted in terror at a loud noise and I fought for control. When the carriage overturned, I ended in the hospital. Velocity doesn’t hurt.
It’s the sudden stop.
The protein on the reception plate wriggled its tiny legs when Carl probed it experimentally with a fork. He discreetly shifted the course aside and covered it with a napkin. Suspect cartes du jour are a frequent defect at interplanetary ambassador receptions.
I may make you feel, but I can't make you think.