In a collection of the Songs of Brittany in the Brest library there are many stanzas in praise of coffee.
— from All About Coffee by William H. (William Harrison) Ukers

I opened my eyes and blinked into the bright light, then craned my neck, still coughing a little.
— from Little Brother by Cory Doctorow

Leicester quite openly talked about turning the Spanish Ambassador out of England, and even Burghley had replied, to an application for audience on behalf of Mendoza to deliver a letter from Philip to the Queen, who was at Nonsuch, that the Queen was alone and unattended by Councillors, “and as Don Bernardino is to bring letters to the Queen from so great an enemy to her as his master, it is meet that he should be received as the minister of such a one.”
— from The Great Lord Burghley: A study in Elizabethan statecraft by Martin A. S. (Martin Andrew Sharp) Hume

We need not be afraid that we shall be led astray by imitating them, by learning their occupations, or by attempting to share their joys.
— from Gleanings among the Sheaves by C. H. (Charles Haddon) Spurgeon

But I now believe it to be like those hideous forms which in fairy tales beset good knights, when they would force their way into some enchanted palace.
— from Loss and Gain: The Story of a Convert by John Henry Newman

Ah! whatever people might say, when a woman behaved ill, that brought luck to her house.
— from Germinal by Émile Zola

This life is a garden where all choose their posies: In the spring of our youth let us gather the roses; For brief is their bloom like the dews of the morn, If you seek them too late you will find but a thorn.
— from The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction Volume 10, No. 275, September 29, 1827 by Various

The branch is to be led to any convenient position where the exhustion apparatus can be placed.
— from Scientific American Supplement, No. 430, March 29, 1884 by Various

But, if they be lost, the Department will make every effort in its power to discover the cause, and, if there has been a theft, to punish the offender.
— from Ten Years Among the Mail Bags Or, Notes from the Diary of a Special Agent of the Post-Office Department by James Holbrook

The bands in the French camp were playing merrily as he left it, but in the British lines there was not so much as a bugle or a drum, and the men were feeling it keenly.
— from The Coil of Carne by John Oxenham