Here's just what I was wishing for last night come about, and I'm spoiling it all,” and in another five minutes has swallowed the last mouthful of his bile, and is repaid by seeing his little sensitive plant expand again and sun itself in his smiles.
— from Tom Brown's School Days by Thomas Hughes

f.: Duncan is in his grave; After life's fitful fever he sleeps well; Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison, Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, Can touch him further.
— from Shakespearean Tragedy: Lectures on Hamlet, Othello, King Lear, Macbeth by A. C. (Andrew Cecil) Bradley

To authorship Franklin laid no claim.
— from Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin by Benjamin Franklin

Treason has done his worst; nor steel, nor poison, Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, Can touch him further.
— from The Complete Works of William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare

the Small portion of rain which fell last night Caused the road to be much furmer and better than yesterday.
— from The Journals of Lewis and Clark, 1804-1806 by William Clark

Very recently remains of an early white settlement, traditionally ascribed to the Spaniards, have been reported from Lincolnton, North Carolina, on the edge of the ancient country of the Sara, among whom the Spaniards built a fort in 1566.
— from Myths of the Cherokee Extract from the Nineteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology by James Mooney

Stretched upon a mattress on the floor, lay Noah Claypole, fast asleep.
— from Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens

Into this error men have, probably, been led by viewing education in a false light; not considering it as the first step to form a being advancing gradually toward perfection; (This word is not strictly just, but I cannot find a better.)
— from A Vindication of the Rights of Woman With Strictures on Political and Moral Subjects by Mary Wollstonecraft

Then round the swimmer, bored by struggling through the perpetual surf of family life, new combers swelled.
— from Babbitt by Sinclair Lewis

The wretched, feeble little nag crawled slowly along.
— from Project Gutenberg Compilation of 233 Short Stories of Chekhov by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov

I am convinced that any one accustomed to abstraction and analysis, who will fairly exert his faculties for the purpose, will, when his imagination has once learned to entertain the notion, find no difficulty in conceiving that in some one, for instance, of the many firmaments [pg 400] into which sidereal astronomy now divides the universe, events may succeed one another at random, without any fixed law; nor can any thing in our experience, or in our mental nature, constitute a sufficient, or indeed any, reason for believing that this is nowhere the case.
— from A System of Logic, Ratiocinative and Inductive by John Stuart Mill

Without the filthy lucre nothing can be begun or ended.
— from A Crooked Path: A Novel by Mrs. Alexander

Où est donc l'Anglais digne de ce nom qui, en portant son regard du Palatin au Colisée, pourrait contempler sans émotion ce coin de terre d'où lui sont venus la foi, le nom chrétien
— from Walks in Rome by Augustus J. C. (Augustus John Cuthbert) Hare

She sat on the floor and looked at different angles of herself: profile, full-face, full length, naked, clothed.
— from The Beautiful People by Charles Beaumont

The two armies now gazed at each other, at a respectful distance, for a fortnight longer, neither commander apparently having any very definite purpose.
— from History of the United Netherlands from the Death of William the Silent to the Twelve Year's Truce — Complete (1584-1609) by John Lothrop Motley

She produced a long slip of paper from her pocket, uncrumpled it, and began to read: "'There was a fine lady named Cholmondely, In person and manner so colmondely That the people in town From noble to clown Did nothing but gaze at her, dolmondely.'
— from The Girls of Central High Aiding the Red Cross Or, Amateur Theatricals for a Worthy Cause by Gertrude W. Morrison

On The Firing Line, Near Carthage, Quebec, Crécy, Waterloo, [15] Khartoum, or wherever the Enemy may be found in force.
— from Miss Muffet's Christmas Party by Samuel McChord Crothers

As an exponent of the "tender passion," few living novelists can compare with Lucas Cleeve.
— from A Book of the Cevennes by S. (Sabine) Baring-Gould