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But Lucy Audley would not make war.
— from Lady Audley's Secret by M. E. (Mary Elizabeth) Braddon
These prating Senators of yours hover ineffectual on the barren letter, and will never save the Revolution.
— from The French Revolution: A History by Thomas Carlyle
This, however, it is said, depends somewhat on the size of the town: if the town contains much population, and these perhaps of a dubious choleric aspect, the Revolutionary Army will do its work gently, by ladder and wrench; nay perhaps will take its billet without work at all; and, refreshing itself with a little liquor and sleep, pass on to the next stage.
— from The French Revolution: A History by Thomas Carlyle
Having driven along the trodden village street, darkened here and there by fresh manure, past the yard where the clothes hung out and where the white shirt had broken loose and was now attached only by one frozen sleeve, they again came within sound of the weird moan of the willows, and again emerged on the open fields.
— from Master and Man by Tolstoy, Leo, graf
She acted badly, lisped, and was nervous.
— from Project Gutenberg Compilation of 233 Short Stories of Chekhov by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov
Alan clapped my shoulder, and said I was a brave lad and wanted nothing but a sleep.
— from Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson
I had above a barrel and a half of powder left; for after the first year or two I used but little, and wasted none.
— from The Life and Adventures of Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe
But the rope had been loosened, and was no longer about me.
— from Bentley's Miscellany, Volume I by Various
But labor alone will not produce gains unless properly and intelligently directed.
— from How to Study by George Fillmore Swain
"If, then, we prefer to meet danger with a light heart, but without laborious training, and with a courage which is gained by habit, and not enforced by law, are we not greatly the gainers?
— from Outlines of Universal History, Designed as a Text-book and for Private Reading by George Park Fisher
M. B. Macleay, New York; “The Old Tower, Newport,” Mrs. S. P. Avery; “Across the Water,” F. A. Bridgman, Paris; “At Montreal,” George H. Boughton, London; “At Wilmington, North Carolina,” Mrs. J. P. Whitehead, Newark, New Jersey; “Old Castle, Sunset,” Alfred Jones, Yonkers, New York; “The Philosopher,” Rev. L. L. Noble, Annandale, New York; “Moonlight,” Charles Parsons, Montclair, New Jersey; landscape, and a set of two blue and one yellow vases, Hon.
— from The Ceramic Art A Compendium of The History and Manufacture of Pottery and Porcelain by Jennie J. Young
It is a rampart of rock, standing at the entrance to the pass, and is of such natural strength, that but little art was needed to make it secure against any force that could be brought against it.
— from The Huguenots in France by Samuel Smiles
We are just so many animals stuck down on a Mappin terrace, with this difference in our disfavour, that the animals are there to be looked at, while nobody wants to look at us.
— from The Toys of Peace, and Other Papers by Saki
When Sir John Barrow published an account of the expedition from the journals of Captain Tuckey and Professor Smith the diary of Hawkey was not obtainable; it had been lost, and was not recovered for some years; and then, when given for publication, was again lost, and only the concluding pages were to be found.
— from Cornish Characters and Strange Events by S. (Sabine) Baring-Gould
And these have not been lost, and will not be, for as the blood of the martyrs was the seed and the seal of the church, so the blood and the bravery of the soldiers of the North and the South have already cemented this Republic in a closer union.
— from The History of the City of Fredericksburg, Virginia by S. J. (Silvanus Jackson) Quinn
But lying abed, with nothing to take up his mind, presently he began to wonder if there was not some hidden meaning back of the seine-maker's words.
— from The Emperor of Portugallia by Selma Lagerlöf
The boys lying around with no shelter, regardless of the coming storm, as though they slept in the wealthiest mansion.
— from An Artilleryman's Diary by Jenkins Lloyd Jones
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