And I wanted to go in very much, only—" "YOU DIDN'T GO IN, Rawdon!" screamed his wife.
— from Vanity Fair by William Makepeace Thackeray

There were equally excellent opportunities for vacationists in the home island, delightful sylvan spots for rejuvenation, offering a plethora of attractions as well as a bracing tonic for the system in and around Dublin and its picturesque environs even, Poulaphouca to which there was a steamtram, but also farther away from the madding crowd in Wicklow, rightly termed the garden of Ireland, an ideal neighbourhood for elderly wheelmen so long as it didn’t come down, and in the wilds of Donegal where if report spoke true the coup d’œil was exceedingly grand though the lastnamed locality was not easily getatable so that the influx of visitors was not as yet all that it might be considering the signal benefits to be derived from it while Howth with its historic associations and otherwise, Silken Thomas, Grace O’Malley, George IV, rhododendrons several hundred feet above sealevel was a favourite haunt with all sorts and conditions of men especially in the spring when young men’s fancy, though it had its own toll of deaths by falling off the cliffs by design or accidentally, usually, by the way, on their left leg, it being only about three quarters of an hour’s run from the pillar.
— from Ulysses by James Joyce

" "Well, you've guessed it right," said he.
— from The Sagebrusher: A Story of the West by Emerson Hough

A consciousness of the greatness of the gifts she had received, and of the little she had given in return, smote her heart with a vague repentance and a vague fear.
— from Othmar by Ouida

“Rich or poor, young or old, ugly or handsome, the girl is right; she has sense and judgment, she has tripped you over into the slough of self-interest and lets you know it,” cried Honor.
— from The Works of Balzac: A linked index to all Project Gutenberg editions by Honoré de Balzac

"Jovian gas is rich stuff," he explained.
— from Industrial Revolution by Poul Anderson

Another time I remember going out one day from the little château des Fossés where we lived, and my father found he had forgotten the key of a gate: I recollect seeing him get out of the carriage, take up the gate crosswise, and at the second or third attempt break down the stone pillar in which it was fixed.
— from My Memoirs, Vol. I, 1802 to 1821 by Alexandre Dumas

He then turned Glover into ridicule; said he admired his poetry, but quanto optimus omnium poeta, tanto —he would not, he said, go on.
— from Memoirs of the Reign of King George the Third, Volume 1 (of 4) by Horace Walpole

A girl in rags, staying her wayworn feet, Cried, ‘Dickens dead?
— from Theodore Watts-Dunton: Poet, Novelist, Critic by James Douglas