Ever so many thanks for all you are doing for me—you know what I feel about you!
— from Swann's Way by Marcel Proust

Swift from the North the spirit-fangs so sharp Sweep down, and with their barbéd points assail you; Then from the East they come, to dry and warp Your lungs, till breath and being fail you: If from the Desert sendeth them the South, With fire on fire your throbbing forehead crowning, The West leads on a host, to cure the drouth Only when meadow, field, and you are drowning.
— from Faust by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

“You feel, as you always do, what is most to the credit of human nature.
— from Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen

The titular king at Aix, who reigned for a year and danced the first dance round the midsummer bonfire, may perhaps in days of old have discharged the less agreeable duty of serving as fuel for that fire which in later times he only kindled.
— from The Golden Bough: A Study of Magic and Religion by James George Frazer

And I thought to myself, ‘The man is making preparations for a year, and does not know that he will die before evening.’
— from What Men Live By, and Other Tales by Tolstoy, Leo, graf

He lost by debauchery a fortune amounting to thirty thousand francs a year, and died a plain insurance-broker.
— from Repertory of The Comedie Humaine, Complete, A — Z by Anatole Cerfberr

And when his uncle's brow is stern, When his fierce eyes with fury burn, Ah, what will be my Angad's fate, So fair and young and delicate?
— from The Rámáyan of Válmíki, translated into English verse by Valmiki

No dejan de figurar actores y actrices de nota
— from Heath's Modern Language Series: The Spanish American Reader by Ernesto Nelson

At the distance of a few hundred yards a man might fire at you all day without your finding it out.
— from Personal Memoirs of U. S. Grant, Complete by Ulysses S. (Ulysses Simpson) Grant

“Considering the old lady, I’ll make it five dollars a week, if you’ll agree for a year ahead, Dan.”
— from Killykinick by Mary T. (Mary Theresa) Waggaman

"Mr. Poole, I didn't fire at you," answered Dave.
— from Dave Porter at Star Ranch; Or, The Cowboy's Secret by Edward Stratemeyer

For a year Amélie Delaunay did everything for her mother: she was servant, nurse, comforter; then, at the end of a year, the mother died, and all those nights of watching and weeping, all her careful tendings, were lost, except in the sight of God.
— from My Memoirs, Vol. II, 1822 to 1825 by Alexandre Dumas

Faed, a young and distinguished artist; Dr. Eliotson, a dark, sombre, taciturn, powerful-looking man, with coal-black hair, and a beard as black, fringing round his face; Mr. Charles Reade, author of Christie Johnstone and other novels, and many plays,—a tall man, more than thirty, fair-haired, and of agreeable talk and demeanor.
— from Passages from the English Notebooks, Volume 2. by Nathaniel Hawthorne

"Have you found anything yet?" asked Dr. Blythe with what I felt was just a trace of professional pique at the fact that neither physician had been able to shed any light on the case so far.
— from The Social Gangster by Arthur B. (Arthur Benjamin) Reeve

One [106] would imagine that it was the easiest thing possible to place one's-self ideally in the situation of another, to feel as he felt, and yet act diametrically opposite to the way in which he acted, in certain circumstances and positions; but this apparent facility of transmigration into the identity of another's being is mere delusion.
— from The Exclusives (vol. 2 of 3) by Bury, Charlotte Campbell, Lady

The Continental races never travel at all if they can help it; nor does an Englishman ever think of stirring abroad, unless he has the money to spare, or proposes to himself some definite advantage from the journey; but it seemed to me that nothing was more common than for a young American deliberately to spend all his resources in an aesthetic peregrination about Europe, returning with pockets nearly empty to begin the world in earnest.
— from Our Old Home: A Series of English Sketches by Nathaniel Hawthorne

A nurse's duty is to obey orders and not frown (as you are doing now) upon the doctor.
— from Up the Hill and Over by Isabel Ecclestone Mackay

“I shall never be able to thank you sufficiently for all you are doing.
— from Mademoiselle of Monte Carlo by William Le Queux