I could name you a Soldier that hath 5 done very great things without Slaughter; he is prodigiously dull and slow of Head, but what he can say is for ever false, so that we must have him.
— from The Spectator, Volume 1 Eighteenth-Century Periodical Essays by Steele, Richard, Sir

His straw hat is pulled down a little in front, and he looks each person he passes in the eye, and directly his look is answered looks away.
— from Kipps: The Story of a Simple Soul by H. G. (Herbert George) Wells

There were times when she thought madness must mean forgetfulness; but there were other moments when she shuddered, horror–stricken, at the thought that, in the wandering brain of a mad woman, the image of that grief which had caused the shipwreck of her senses might still hold its place, distorted and exaggerated,––a gigantic unreality, ten thousand times more terrible than the truth.
— from John Marchmont's Legacy, Volumes 1-3 by M. E. (Mary Elizabeth) Braddon

There were times when she thought madness must mean forgetfulness; but there were other moments when she shuddered, horror-stricken, at the thought that, in the wandering brain of a mad woman, the image of that grief which had caused the shipwreck of her senses might still hold its place, distorted and exaggerated,—a gigantic unreality, ten thousand times more terrible than the truth.
— from John Marchmont's Legacy, Volume 2 (of 3) by M. E. (Mary Elizabeth) Braddon

His salary, however, is probably due as much to his being the head of the church as to his fighting qualities.
— from The Old World and Its Ways Describing a Tour Around the World and Journeys Through Europe by William Jennings Bryan

Johnnie drew his sword, held it point downwards, and stood erect, guarding the door.
— from House of Torment A Tale of the Remarkable Adventures of Mr. John Commendone, Gentleman to King Phillip II of Spain at the English Court by Guy Thorne

She had not been alone long, however, before the door was opened cautiously, and a servant entered, and closing the door after her in a very mysterious way, and, approaching the couch on which Alrina was resting, she put her finger on her lips, as much as to say, "Be silent," and gave Alrina a slip of paper on which was written, or rather scrawled, hastily in pencil— " Dearest Alrina.—I am wretched,—miserable!
— from The Wizard of West Penwith: A Tale of the Land's-End by William Bentinck Forfar