“No, my Lord, I still plead.
— from The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas

One day, while, stretch'd upon the ground The old man lay, in sleep profound, A fly that buzz'd around his nose,-- And bit it sometimes, I suppose,-- Put Bruin sadly to his trumps.
— from Fables of La Fontaine — a New Edition, with Notes by Jean de La Fontaine

Though I have lost my lover, I still preserve my love.
— from Letters of Abelard and Heloise To which is prefix'd a particular account of their lives, amours, and misfortunes by Héloïse

In the first place, sir, if you will give me leave, I will myself look into such parts of the family economy, as may not be beneath the rank to which I shall have the honour of being exalted, if any such there can be; and this, I hope, without incurring the ill will of any honest servant.
— from Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded by Samuel Richardson

his mother living in some part of East Tennessee; all the men were from that part of the country.
— from Complete Prose Works Specimen Days and Collect, November Boughs and Goodbye My Fancy by Walt Whitman

"Behind me lie many memories—memories of my life in St. Petersburg, of a period of wealth followed by poverty, of my father's death, of my marriage, of my travels abroad—yes, many such memories there are.
— from Fathers and Sons by Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev

"Good-bye, my lady," I said, putting her into the carriage, and trying to cheer her; "good-bye, for the present only; good-bye, with my best and kindest wishes for happier times.
— from The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins

Only I wish to be noted by them, that during all this time, all those wise and politic princes have thought it fit, not only to maintain London in such plight as they found it, but also to adorn, increase, and amplify it with singular tokens of their liberal favour and good liking.
— from The Survey of London by John Stow

IV Thus on the chill Lapponian's dreary land, For many a long month lost in snow profound, When Sol from Cancer sends the seasons bland, And in their northern cave the storms hath bound; From silent mountains, straight, with startling sound, Torrents are hurl'd, green hills emerge, and lo, The trees with foliage, cliffs with flow'rs are crown'd; Pure rills through vales of verdure warbling go; And wonder, love, and joy, the peasant's heart o'erflow.
— from The Mysteries of Udolpho by Ann Ward Radcliffe

There were four more pages of the same sort in close, fine writing, wherein Calyste explained the sort of threat conveyed in the last words, and related his youth and life; but the tale was chiefly told in exclamatory phrases, with many of those points and dashes of which modern literature is so prodigal when it comes to crucial passages,—as though they were planks offered to the reader’s imagination, to help him across crevasses.
— from The Works of Balzac: A linked index to all Project Gutenberg editions by Honoré de Balzac

In the meanwhile, Mrs. Tollmidge and her family must not be sufferers by my loss: I shall pay the money again.”
— from My Lady's Money by Wilkie Collins

Moreover, since thou hast come to this dale of wonder, and mayst leave it safely, pity it were that thou shouldst see nought thereof, for strange is it forsooth, and belike thou shalt never seek thither again.
— from The Water of the Wondrous Isles by William Morris

THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS Is Saint Peter the tutelar saint of Cadiz?
— from Nightmare Abbey by Thomas Love Peacock

What should I have done in my loneliness if Sir Peregrine's hand and door had never been opened to me?"
— from Orley Farm by Anthony Trollope

From England an army of ten thousand mercenaries landed in Spain, prepared to fight for the cause of Queen Christina, and very modestly estimating the worth of their services at the sum of thirteenpence per diem.
— from In Kedar's Tents by Henry Seton Merriman

"Then again:— [ Listen ] "And instead of 'that he again may live,' I should prefer always as you have at the end, 'that he again may praise Thee.'
— from The History of Mendelssohn's Oratorio 'Elijah' by F. G. (Frederick George) Edwards

Don Ottavio knew very well that, even if his family had not intended him for the Church, they would never have consented to let him marry a girl so much lower in social position than himself.
— from Abbé Aubain and Mosaics by Prosper Mérimée