Pope was anxious in later life to show that he had enjoyed the friendship of a man so generally beloved, and was equally anxious to show that he had behaved generously and been treated with injustice and, indeed, with downright treachery.
— from Alexander Pope by Leslie Stephen

"You're right, Jud; and it looks like the Speedwell might go over on her beam-ends, the way she's tilted now.
— from The Banner Boy Scouts Afloat; or, The Secret of Cedar Island by George A. Warren

When I suggested that London had also been bombed and innocent lives lost, they simply said that that was different.
— from 13 Days: The Chronicle of an Escape from a German Prison by John Alan Lyde Caunter

Now and again the road passes through reaches of pine forest, still and aromatic, the soil carpeted with soft yellow fir-needles, where if one pauses to listen there comes a low, undefined murmur of vegetable and insect life, like the sound that greets the ear when applied to an empty sea-shell.
— from Due North; or, Glimpses of Scandinavia and Russia by Maturin Murray Ballou

While it is true that in the mating of human beings all is largely left to sentiment, chance and blind blundering, and while wonderful results could be attained could intelligence and forethought give direction in human love affairs, yet with human beings who intelligently set themselves to correct mistakes and to develop talents, to supply deficiencies and prepare to transmit the very [Pg 274] best results that are possible to them, the effort is approved by results in the offspring which are most gratifying and satisfactory.
— from What a Young Husband Ought to Know by Sylvanus Stall

He who is always or almost always in the open air, is less likely to suffer from the use of extra stimulants, and the penalty when it does fall on his head, is much more likely to be deferred, than in the case of the sedentary and inactive.
— from Forty Years in the Wilderness of Pills and Powders Cogitations and Confessions of an Aged Physician by William A. (William Andrus) Alcott

Now and again the road passes through pine forests, still and aromatic, the soil carpeted with leaves, where, if one pauses to listen, there comes a low, undefined murmur of vegetable and insect life, like the sound that greets the ear when applied to an empty sea-shell.
— from Foot-prints of Travel; Or, Journeyings in Many Lands by Maturin Murray Ballou