This comes of not putting yourself in his place.
— from Put Yourself in His Place by Charles Reade

Take a pig being scalded, flayed, and quartered, season it with beaten nutmeg, pepper, salt, cloves, and mace, lay it in your pie with some chopped sweet herbs , hard eggs, currans, (or none) put your herbs between every lay, with some gooseberries, grapes, or barberries, and lay on the top slices of interlarded bacon and butter, close it up, and bake it in good fine crust, being baked, liquor it with butter, verjuyce, and sugar.
— from The accomplisht cook or, The art & mystery of cookery by Robert May

"When you're quite finished, Mr. Lancaster," called out Nell, "perhaps you'll condescend to look at this box!"
— from The Young O'Briens: Being an Account of Their Sojourn in London by Margaret Westrup

You became suddenly conscious of new power, you could feel yourself grow.
— from Vesper Talks to Girls by Laura A. (Laura Anna) Knott

After several had worked with the pigskin Morton called out: "Now, Prescott, you take the ball, and drop back to the twenty-five-yard line.
— from The High School Left End; or, Dick & Co. Grilling on the Football Gridiron by H. Irving (Harrie Irving) Hancock

One evening at a summer theatre where they gave the pantomime of the 'Puppenfee' and the operetta of 'Hansel and Gretel', he observed that the greater part of the audience was composed of nice plain young girls and children, and he noted that there was no sort of evening dress; from the large number of Americans present he imagined a numerous colony in Berlin, where they mast have an instinctive sense of their co-nationality, since one of them in the stress of getting his hat and overcoat when they all came out, confidently addressed him in English.
— from Their Silver Wedding Journey — Volume 3 by William Dean Howells

'Of course,' observed Nikolai Petrovitch, 'you were born here, and so everything is bound to strike you in a special——' 'Come, dad, that makes no difference where a man is born.'
— from Fathers and Children by Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev

Elly, in a panic, sprang up at him, clapping her hand over his mouth, crying out, "No, Paul, you shan't tell!
— from The Brimming Cup by Dorothy Canfield Fisher