"Never did a tale abound in so many beautiful images."— Philadelphia Mercury.
— from Rose Clark by Fanny Fern

“Or under a bridge,” Gourock Ellen remarked, lifting her dress again; then, as if some modest thought had struck her, dropping it suddenly.
— from The Rat-Pit by Patrick MacGill

The [Pg 107] ship would cringe, dip and twist and in some mysterious way, half submerged, ride the treacherous monster and, having got safely by, would instantly be confronted with another equally as treacherous and terrible.
— from From Job to Job around the World by Alfred C. B. (Alfred Charles Benson) Fletcher

But I really believe that Mr. Nowell was anxious to find his daughter, and to atone in some measure for his former neglect."
— from Fenton's Quest by M. E. (Mary Elizabeth) Braddon

The great interest she displayed and the anxious inquiries she made about his father's illness, filled Eugene's heart with gratitude.
— from The Gnomes of the Saline Mountains: A Fantastic Narrative by Anna Goldmark Gross

Provoked at this language, I one day at the Academy in St. Martin's Lane put the following question: Supposing any man at this time were to paint a portrait as well as Vandyke, would it be seen or acknowledged, and could the artist enjoy the benefit or acquire the reputation due to his performance?
— from Hogarth's Works, with life and anecdotal descriptions of his pictures. Volume 3 (of 3) by John Ireland

But, however this may be, I recollect that those articles in that old, half-calf bound volume of "Household Words," while not affirming this, that, or the other doctrine as to alchemy in so many distinct words, did suggest that a few of the old alchemists, at all events, were something more than blundering simpletons engaged on a quest which was a patent absurdity, which could only have been entertained by the besotted superstition of "the dark ages," which had this one claim to our attention inasmuch as the modern science of chemistry rose from the ashes of its foolish fires.
— from Far Off Things by Arthur Machen

It was a look of hopeless despair; and turning away, I staggered mechanically across the hall.
— from The Quadroon: Adventures in the Far West by Mayne Reid