Is he [the Scotchman] orthodox—he has no doubts. Is he an infidel—he has none either. Between the affirmative and the negative there is noborder-land with him. You cannot hover with him upon the confines of truth, or wander in the maze of a probable argument.
1911,W. E. B. Du Bois, chapter 25, inThe Quest of the Silver Fleece[5], Chicago: McClurg, page277:
“Mr. Alwyn, the line between virtue and foolishness is dim and wavering, and I should hate to see you lost in that marshyborderland.[…]”
the subject lies in the mistyborderlands of advancing knowledge
2019,Robert Harris, chapter 12, inThe Second Sleep, London: Hutchinson:
[…] he found himself in that frustrating mental state in which one is too exhausted to think productively and yet too alert to sleep, and in this restlessborderland he lay for the remainder of the night[…]