The File (n.) are an endless path: a written message would once again travel along it.
File (n.) are never lost by the girls — every scrap of paper is handed in — and yet files naturally do get lost.
File (n.) absent from an official's carriage are worse news: his concerns are so important the files are too valuable to bring along.
The File (n.) tumble out of the cabinet tied in bundles like firewood, until papers cover half the room — “We’ve certainly accomplished a great deal.”
File (n.) are what officials crave: the gentleman wanted not consolation but files, and those left lying on another's threshold are watched with longing.
The File (n.) is never lost, and the court never forgets: it swings between higher and lower courts until some judge takes a closer look and orders an immediate arrest.
The File (n.) heading the right way arrives in a day; but once lost, the excellence of the organization is such that it must zealously seek the wrong way, or it won’t find it.