“Yes, but everybody goes away to school at fifteen, and I want to, Beatrice.”
— from This Side of Paradise by F. Scott (Francis Scott) Fitzgerald

This being refused by Congress, the President asked legislative authority to place a junior over a senior of the same grade, with the view of appointing Benton to the rank of major-general and then placing him in command of the army, but Congress failed to accede to this proposition as well, and Scott remained in command: but every general appointed to serve under him was politically opposed to the chief, and several were personally hostile.
— from Personal Memoirs of U. S. Grant, Complete by Ulysses S. (Ulysses Simpson) Grant

Their tongues are crimson flaming, Their haunted blue eyes gleam, And they strain them to the utmost O’er frozen lake and stream; [Pg 99] Their cry one note of agony, That is neither yelp nor bark, These panters of the northern waste, Who hound them to the dark.
— from The Dread Voyage: Poems by Wilfred Campbell

His mental processes are not known, naturally, but probably in a desire to be especially gracious and to show that Fredericksburg and its people were deeply considerate of the welfare of their President, and concerned in all that happened to him, the old gentleman grasped the hand of the chief dignitary of the land, bowed very low and said, “Mr. President, I am indeed very glad to meet you and I sincerely hope, Sir, that Major Randolph did not hurt you when he pulled your nose to-day.”
— from Historic Fredericksburg: The Story of an Old Town by John T. (John Tackett) Goolrick

The ex-agent turned, his prominent bloodshot eyes glowering at the speaker.
— from Robert Elsmere by Ward, Humphry, Mrs.

It throws out a number of broad experimental generalizations, and then sets out to bring into harmony or relation with these an infinitely multifarious collection of phenomena.
— from Ann Veronica: A Modern Love Story by H. G. (Herbert George) Wells

The hat tipped upward and under the brim-edge his black eyes gleamed, as the sandy soil all around him gleamed in the dew.
— from Over the Pass by Frederick Palmer

But it matters [95] not whether built to form a fitting shrine for the holy relic or to commemorate the king’s narrow escape from death by the interposition of the “Holy Rude,” the noble pile has not been spared by time’s ruthless hand, and only the chapel royal remains of that great monastery, the choir and transepts being entirely gone, and the sole remaining portion even being roofless.
— from The Chautauquan, Vol. 05, November 1884, No. 2 by Chautauqua Institution