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“Every little pebble was distinct, every speckled trout, every hand’s-breadth of sand,” Mark Twain wrote of his unimpeded glimpse into Lake Tahoe’s depths in “Roughing It.”

With a swift whir an iron pot came hurtling past me, and, missing the Duchess by a hand's-breadth, went clanking under the gatehouse.

Three times the Black Dog fired, and each time the bullet flew within a hand's-breadth of its mark.

If the girl at the helm let the tiller swing a hand's-breadth too much when the Sorata, piling the froth about her, rushed up a dim slope of water, either mainsail or spinnaker would swing over, and the men on the booms would have no opportunity for attempting to obviate the unpleasantness that would certainly succeed it.

At first the boat is rocked lightly to and fro by the waves; but by the time the full moon has risen above the horizon the fisherman notices that his bark is less easily swayed, and so it gradually sinks deeper and deeper in the stream, until finally the water comes within a hand's-breadth of the boat's bow.