“Sit down, my friend,” said Dupin.
— from The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 1 by Edgar Allan Poe

On which account, when he on one occasion brought forward a motion for some decree, a man of the name of Alexinius attacked him, saying that a wise man had no need to draw a tent nor a decree.
— from The Lives and Opinions of Eminent Philosophers by Diogenes Laertius

Wà man tay ikapalit ug supdringk, mag-agwanta lang tag nawása, We don’t have any money for soft drinks, so we’ll just have to put up with plain water.
— from A Dictionary of Cebuano Visayan by John U. Wolff

stay with me for some days,” he invariably answers [ 33 ] in his usual unintelligible manner, “No, I won’t remain, I won’t remain.”
— from Folk-Tales of Bengal by Lal Behari Day

III And pointing forth, Lo yonder is (said she) ° 20 The brasen towre in which my parents deare For dread of that huge feend emprisond be, Whom I from far, see on the walles appeare, Whose sight my feeble soule doth greatly cheare: And on the top of all I do espye 25 The watchman wayting tydings glad to heare,
— from Spenser's The Faerie Queene, Book I by Edmund Spenser

"Then," said the king, "thou wilt be revengeful, my friend, some day."
— from Heimskringla; Or, The Chronicle of the Kings of Norway by Snorri Sturluson

Till such evidence is produced, we may fairly sit down in a calm and well-grounded scepticism.
— from The Works of Richard Hurd, Volume 5 (of 8) by Richard Hurd

Walking along Front Street one day, a street of importing and wholesale establishments, he saw an auctioneer's flag hanging out before a wholesale grocery and from the interior came the auctioneer's voice: “What am I bid for this exceptional lot of Java coffee, twenty-two bags all told, which is now selling in the market for seven dollars and thirty-two cents a bag wholesale?
— from The Financier: A Novel by Theodore Dreiser

Lay before the lady a complete case: describe your man, then I’ll describe mine , and Miss Flora shall decide.’
— from St. Ives: Being the Adventures of a French Prisoner in England by Robert Louis Stevenson

I knew that honor demanded I should rouse him, that he would not thank me for letting him sleep after his brother had left the room; and yet, whether from too much heart—he was in such sore need of rest—or from too little conscience—I was in such sore need of knowledge—I let him slumber on, and never made so much as a move after my first startled discovery of his condition.
— from The Mill Mystery by Anna Katharine Green