Whether ye sail to great Hesperia's shore /and Saturn's fields, or seek the realms that own / Acestes' sway, where Eryx reigned of yore, / safe will I send you hence, and speed you with my store."

Something’s wrong in the realm of sentences.

“The constant deluge of information can very rapidly shift you from the realm of ‘informed, proactive citizen’ to ‘on-fire garbage can crammed with so much content it ceases to do anything other than feed your anxiety,’” she says.

But we, thy progeny, to whom alone / thy nod hath promised a celestial throne, / our vessels lost, from Italy are barred, / o shame! and ruined for the wrath of one. / Thus, thus dost thou thy plighted word regard, / our sceptred realms restore, our piety reward?"

It is not outside of the realm of possibility.

Past Ithaca we creep, / Laertes' realms, and curse the land that bred / Ulysses, cause of all the woes we weep.

Instead of giving the money, that is the normal coin of the realm, which is the phrase that everyone used then, they would give them a token, and this token might be metal, might be wood, might be cardboard.

I have dwelt ever in realms apart from the visible world; spending my youth and adolescence in ancient and little-known books, and in roaming the fields and groves of the region near my ancestral home.

East and West / he summoned to his throne, and thus his wrath expressed. / "What pride of birth possessed you, Earth and air / without my leave to mingle in affray, / and raise such hubbub in my realm?"

I'm Miles, Prince of the Furry Realm!