Let us drain Life's goblet at one draught since we have to die!.

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The studio of the rue de la Pompe was about to witness the mad and desperate revels of a castaway bark well-stocked with provisions.
Desnoyers left the Gare d'Orsay in a first-class compartment, mentally praising the good order with which the authorities had arranged everything, so that every traveller could have his own seat.

At the Austerlitz station, however, a human avalanche assaulted the train.
The doors were broken open, packages and children came in through the windows like projectiles.