"I'm dreadfully stupid," said Fanny, "but who was Bibulus?"
— from The Country of the Blind, and Other Stories by H. G. (Herbert George) Wells

Why did she send for you?
— from The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

[88-2] En vista de semejante sacrilegio, 15 y por consejo del señor Penitenciario, [88-3] acabo de quemar tan impío testimonio de la perversidad mahometana.
— from Novelas Cortas by Pedro Antonio de Alarcón

Igualmente el mate frío, es decir, tibio, es detestable, sólo sirve para producir dolores de vientre.
— from Heath's Modern Language Series: The Spanish American Reader by Ernesto Nelson

At last the Cat malignant mischief made; She climbed up to the Eagle: "Ma'am, our peace Is ended, death," she says, "is threatening; I'm dismayed.
— from The Fables of La Fontaine Translated into English Verse by Walter Thornbury and Illustrated by Gustave Doré by Jean de La Fontaine

I reflected acutely that the sense of such differences, such superiorities of quality, always, on the part of the majority—which could include even stupid, sordid headmasters—turn infallibly to the vindictive.
— from The Turn of the Screw by Henry James

Drawen , v. to draw, S, S2, CM; draȝen , S, S2; dragen , S; dreaien , S; dreihen , S; drah , imp.
— from A Concise Dictionary of Middle English from A.D. 1150 to 1580 by A. L. (Anthony Lawson) Mayhew

If he can do such strenuous work as that he isn't hurt.
— from The Moving Picture Girls Snowbound Or, The Proof on the Film by Laura Lee Hope

Yet this point, so well selected,— Peerless in its day—, Now, abandoned and neglected, Sinks to slow decay; Sculptured saints, with broken fingers, Line the ancient walls, Like a loyal guard that lingers Till the rampart falls; Vases, o'er the portal standing, Crumble into lime; Steps, ascending from the landing, Show the touch of time; And its one lone gardener, weeping As he tells his fears, Faithful watch has here been keeping Many, many years!
— from Poems by John L. (John Lawson) Stoddard

As she went about her simple duties she sang softly to herself, a song of love and knightly deeds.
— from Once a Week by A. A. (Alan Alexander) Milne

"Darling," she said, "do come back to your own room.
— from The Arbiter: A Novel by Bell, Florence Eveleen Eleanore Olliffe, Lady

"Dere she stands," she cried, wheeling suddenly and pointing with dramatic finger.
— from Maggie: A Girl of the Streets by Stephen Crane

My dear, I must acknowledge that my ardor is a little lessened since I began this piece of work, for then I had not only a vision of the poor soldiers to be aided by my labor, but I also fancied that this warm wrapping, instead of adding a new lustre to the carriage of some luxurious lady, might perchance fall to the share of some poor widow; and these beautiful embroidered leaves and blossoms might delight some sickly child, whose best covering had hitherto been a faded blanket shawl, and whose mother was too poor to afford the indulgence of real flowers, purchased from some collection of exotics, or plucked by the pale fingers from some fragrant country wayside.
— from Continental Monthly , Vol. 5, No. 6, June, 1864 Devoted to Literature and National Policy by Various

"Ah! my dear," she said to her sister-in-law, "you are certainly much to be pitied!
— from The Three Cities Trilogy: Paris, Volume 5 by Émile Zola