But what if I were to tell you out of what a sad heart this joy comes; how every day I say to myself, 'This is to be the last of it!'
— from The Bramleighs of Bishop's Folly by Charles James Lever

The boy looked gratefully at the weather–beaten hunter; and as he cast his eyes down in silence, it would have been difficult to say whether pleasure, pride, or pain predominated in their expression.
— from The Prairie-Bird by Murray, Charles Augustus, Sir

It might mend matters if we could have every day in some reputable paper a column of readable serious stuff about the current movie plays—real criticism, not simply the producer’s “blurb.”
— from A Librarian's Open Shelf: Essays on Various Subjects by Arthur E. (Arthur Elmore) Bostwick

And Carlo, his eyes dim in spite of his intense determination to be above such weakness, stood watching the dark figure, conspicuous against the white-sheeted ground and steel-blue early morning winter sky.
— from Grandmother Dear: A Book for Boys and Girls by Mrs. Molesworth

"Cousin?" he exclaimed, daunted in spite of himself.
— from The Game and the Candle by Eleanor M. (Eleanor Marie) Ingram

Trade organizations of almost every character had experienced difficulty in securing all they demanded from time to time, because of a want of co-operation—in their semi-tyrannical efforts—from kindred organizations.
— from 30,000 Locked Out: The Great Strike of the Building Trades in Chicago by James C. Beeks

He celebrates his expected departure in some verses more witty than moral, in which he addresses our islanders as follows: 'Jamaica bodies, use him weel, And hap him in a cosy biel, Ye'll find him aye a dainty chiel, And fu' of glee; He wadna wrang the very deil, That's ower the sea.'
— from The Continental Monthly, Vol. 5, No. 4, April, 1864 by Various

M. de Meilhan comes here every day; I send word I am too sick to see him; which is the truth, for I would be in Paris now if I were well enough to travel.
— from The Cross of Berny; Or, Irene's Lovers by Girardin, Emile de, Mme

She blushed and cast her eyes down in such a sweet fashion that he really longed to kiss the lids.
— from A Modern Cinderella by Amanda M. Douglas