20 al zagalillo que no le permitieran ir a contemplar de cerca los palpitantes cadáveres de los ladrones, que en horroroso grupo se distinguían a lo lejos, y siguieron todos adelante.
— from Doña Perfecta by Benito Pérez Galdós

Death at least left you with bones in a green yard and a stone with a graven name, but Canada made you childless, and there was no sign of your grief beneath the church's wall.
— from The Splendid Fairing by Constance Holme

Pues si hasta las Deidades sienten de amor la llama, y por amar descienden de divinas á humanas: Que harè yo estando herida de la amorosa llaga, si no darle
— from History of Spanish and Portuguese Literature (Vol 1 of 2) by Friedrich Bouterwek

‘La salubridad del ayre, la limpieza y seguridad de las calles,’ … ‘Pero ¿quién creerá que este noble empeño produxo las mas vivas quejas: que se conmovió el vulgo de todas clases; y que tuvo varias autoridades á su favor la extraña doctrina de que los vapores mefiticos eran un correctivo saludable de la rigidez del clima?’
— from History of Civilization in England, Vol. 2 of 3 by Henry Thomas Buckle

Then, just as we did a little later, you made a blunder and ran into the wrong channel.
— from Motor Boat Boys Mississippi Cruise; or, The Dash for Dixie by Louis Arundel

MOST ESTEEMED FRIEND, On and off I hear that you remember me very kindly and are intent upon gaining friends for me; and I could have wished that, by staying in Dresden a little longer, you had given me an opportunity of thanking you personally and enjoying your company.
— from Correspondence of Wagner and Liszt — Volume 1 by Franz Liszt

That’s what a white man does, and lor’ lov’ yer, more often than not he swallows up all her money, and then beats her, the skunk.
— from Tales from the Veld by Ernest Glanville

"And what a fine man he is—and looks very much like your Uncle Dunston, and looks like you, [Pg 283] too," added the girl.
— from Dave Porter in the Far North; Or, The Pluck of an American Schoolboy by Edward Stratemeyer

Flames burst angrily from the oven doors and leaped like yellow lightning up through the belching smoke.
— from The Heart of the Hills by Fox, John, Jr.