omphaloskepsis (om-fuh-lo-SKEP-sis) noun: contemplation of one’s navel.
D. H. Lawrence, 1912:
“Curse the blasted, jelly-boned swines, the slimy, the belly-wriggling invertebrates, the miserable soddingrotters, the flaming sods, the sniveling, dribbling, dithering, palsied, pulse-less lot that make up England today. They’ve got white of egg in their veins, and their spunk is that watery it’s a marvel they can breed.”
P.J. O’Rourke “Holidays in Hell”:
“The old woman was not only ugly with the ugliness age brings us all but showed signs of formidable ugliness by birth – pickle-jar chin, mainsail ears and a nose like a trigonometry problem. What’s more, she had the deep frown and snit wrinkles that come from a lifetime of bad character.”
Lee Child “Tripwire”:
“His lazy lopsided grin. His tousled hair. His arms, so long they gave him a greyhound’s grace even though he was built like the side of a house. His eyes, cold icy blue like the Arctic. His hands, giant battered mitts that bunched into fists the size of footballs.”