The pocket-book contained four hundred francs, three one-pound notes, and various letters and private effects.
— from Aaron's Rod by D. H. (David Herbert) Lawrence

Ut in omni regno nostro non amplius vendatur libra auri purissime cocti, nisi duodecim libris argenti de novis et meris denariis.
— from Tribal Custom in Anglo-Saxon Law Being an Essay Supplemental to (1) 'The English Village Community', (2) 'The Tribal System in Wales' by Frederic Seebohm

This place was now a very large and prosperous settlement.
— from In Darkest Africa, Vol. 1; or, The Quest, Rescue, and Retreat of Emin, Governor of Equatoria by Henry M. (Henry Morton) Stanley

(3) The “Notae ad Varias Lectiones,” also printed (for the Gospels) in Walton's Polyglott; a delectus of them is given in Sabatier at the end of each book of the New Testament, under the title “Roman.
— from A Plain Introduction to the Criticism of the New Testament, Vol. II. by Frederick Henry Ambrose Scrivener

"I don't like the streets, in which I cannot walk but in the kennel; I don't like the shops, that contain nothing except what's at the window; I don't like the houses, like prisons which look upon a courtyard; I don't like the beaux jardins , which grow no plants save a Cupid in plaster; I don't like the wood fires, which demand as many petits soins as the women, and which warm no part of one but one's eyelids, I don't like the language, with its strong phrases about nothing, and vibrating like a pendulum between 'rapture' and 'desolation
— from Alice, or the Mysteries — Book 06 by Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron

"I don't like the streets, in which I cannot walk but in the kennel; I don't like the shops, that contain nothing except what's at the window; I don't like the houses, like prisons which look upon a courtyard; I don't like the beaux jardins , which grow no plants save a Cupid in plaster; I don't like the wood fires, which demand as many petits soins as the women, and which warm no part of one but one's eyelids, I don't like the language, with its strong phrases about nothing, and vibrating like a pendulum between 'rapture' and 'desolation;' I don't like the accent, which one cannot get, without speaking through one's nose; I don't like the eternal fuss and jabber about books without nature, and revolutions without fruit; I have no sympathy with tales that turn on a dead jackass, nor with constitutions that give the ballot to the representatives, and withhold the suffrage from the people; neither have I much faith in that enthusiasm for the beaux arts , which shows its produce in execrable music, detestable pictures, abominable sculpture, and a droll something that I believe the French call POETRY.
— from Alice, or the Mysteries — Complete by Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron