But these more distinctly terrible deities are found in the shadowy border-land of mythology, from which we may look back into ages when the fear in which worship is born had not yet been separated into its elements of awe and admiration, nor the heaven of supreme forces divided into ranks of benevolent and [ 9 ] malevolent beings; and, on the other hand, we may look forward to the ages in which the moral consciousness of man begins to form the distinctions between good and evil, right and wrong, which changes cosmogony into religion, and impresses every deity of the mind’s creation to do his or her part in reflecting the physical and moral struggles of mankind.
— from Demonology and Devil-lore by Moncure Daniel Conway

Yet the TJ up-and-down herd never seemed to increase beyond a niggardly three hundred or so, though the Quirt ranch was older than its lordly neighbours, the Sawtooth Cattle Company, who numbered their cattle by tens of thousands and whose riders must have strings of fifteen horses apiece to keep them going; older too than many a modest ranch that had flourished awhile and had finished as line-camps of the Sawtooth when the Sawtooth bought ranch and brand for a lump sum that looked big to the rancher, who immediately departed to make himself a new home elsewhere: older than others which had somehow gone to pieces when the rancher died or went to the penitentiary under the stigma of a long sentence as a cattle thief.
— from Sawtooth Ranch by B. M. Bower

It stands on the west bank of the Hudson, and about one hundred and forty-five miles from New York by the river, and near the head of sloop navigation.
— from American Scenery, Vol. 1 (of 2) or, Land, lake, and river illustrations of transatlantic nature by Nathaniel Parker Willis

When he arrived at Nottingham, he heard that Viscount Lovel, with Sir Humphrey Stafford, and Thomas his brother, had secretly withdrawn themselves from their sanctuary at Colchester: but this news appeared not to him of such importance as to stop his journey; and he proceeded forward to York.
— from The History of England in Three Volumes, Vol.I., Part C. From Henry VII. to Mary by David Hume

The harbour was first known as the New Harbour and the Harbour of Julian, but, in the sixth century, it was also named the Harbour of Sophia or the Sophias, in view of extensive repairs made at the instance of the Empress Sophia, the consort of Justin II.
— from Constantinople, painted by Warwick Goble, described by Alexander Van Millingen by Alexander Van Millingen

If an artist had peeped into the room, felt this cold, gloomy darkness and noticed the heap of scattered papers and books, the dark figure of the man with his covered face, bent over the table in helpless grief—he would have painted a picture and would have called it "The Suicide."
— from The Little Angel, and Other Stories by Leonid Andreyev

Their hearts [Pg 198] are now the hearts of slaves;—they forget injuries, forget their ancestors, forget their oaths,—and everywhere the folly of crowds, the mediocrity of individuals, the hideousness of races, hold sway!"
— from The Temptation of St. Anthony by Gustave Flaubert

If an individual wishes a beautiful home, especially in dismal London, it is first of all necessary that he or she should clearly understand what is beautiful, and why it is desired.
— from Travels in South Kensington with Notes on Decorative Art and Architecture in England by Moncure Daniel Conway

But after nearly two hours of strenuous toil without result, they retired from the hole for a time to rest, and were debating the question whether or not it was worth while to pursue the investigation any further, Earle being rather of opinion that Dick’s find had been merely an isolated pocket, and that they might seek for weeks or possibly months, without finding any more emeralds, when, without the slightest warning, the hole in which they had been working suddenly caved in, laying bare a new face, some nine or ten square yards in area.
— from In Search of El Dorado by Harry Collingwood

The fugitives arrived near the hamlet of St. Pierre, situated on the Meuse.
— from The Executioner's Knife; Or, Joan of Arc by Eugène Sue