A booby, or country lout: a name given to the New England men in North America.
— from 1811 Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue by Francis Grose

Set him in a crowd in any country of dark-pigmented, short-statured men and he stood out by contrast like a Norse god.
— from The Amateur Diplomat: A Novel by Thomas B. (Thomas Bertram) Costain

They were no sooner seen than received with a volley; yet they gallantly kept their ground, and returned our fire without ceasing for about half an hour; during that time neither of the contending lines advanced, nor gave way one inch.
— from Recollections of a Peninsular Veteran by Joseph Jocelyn Anderson

From this point the whole way to the city, which is distant two miles, passes continually through cultivated land and numerous gardens, and as Karshi has no walls, one does not know before crossing the bridge that one is in the city.
— from Travels in Central Asia Being the Account of a Journey from Teheran Across the Turkoman Desert on the Eastern Shore of the Caspian to Khiva, Bokhara, and Samarcand by Ármin Vámbéry

A dove came by, alighted; presumably our course lay at no great distance from the coast: a sail, a smoke-trail here and there dappled the circling scene.
— from The Bonadventure: A Random Journal of an Atlantic Holiday by Edmund Blunden

He was so delighted with the variegated flowers, wild roses, ever green and beautiful foliage, and the fragrance of the air, that he thought that these woods must contain the fountain of life and youth and that that must be the place upon the earth where men could live and never grow old.
— from The Bark Covered House Or, Back In the Woods Again; Being a Graphic and Thrilling Description of Real Pioneer Life in the Wilderness of Michigan by William Nowlin

At one o'clock the dreary railway journey began, and after many stoppages and changes, late at night Gladys was informed that their destination was reached.
— from The Guinea Stamp: A Tale of Modern Glasgow by Annie S. Swan

Houses, trees, barns, and bushes rushed by like specters, and the soft August air swept by her cheeks like a November gale.
— from The Turn of the Tide: The Story of How Margaret Solved Her Problem by Eleanor H. (Eleanor Hodgman) Porter

"I will follow your sage advice," replied Chartley, laughing; "and now, good night, Hungerford.
— from The Woodman: A Romance of the Times of Richard III by G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford) James

With so much Manly Beauty in his Face, Scarce his High Birth could lend a Nobler Grace.
— from Anti-Achitophel (1682) Three Verse Replies to Absalom and Achitophel by John Dryden by Elkanah Settle