The big houses sat in self-congratulatory propinquity on their level green lawns†stout matrons seated elbow to elbow, implacably chaperoning a ball.

-Gill, Brendan
  On a residential boulevard of Rochester, NewYork.  A New York Life.

Propinquity had brought Imagination to that pitch where it casts out All that is not itself. I had grown wild And wandered murmuring everywhere,'My child, my child.'

-Yeats,W(illiam) B(utler)
  'A Bronze Head', l.18^21. Collected in Last Poems (1939).