Tush, pish, said Picrochole, you are like the Melun eels, you cry before they come to you.
— from Gargantua and Pantagruel by François Rabelais

no quiero calificar por respeto al Santo Patriarca y a la Iglesia que le adora.
— from Doña Perfecta by Benito Pérez Galdós

Nangulílang ka na sa paniudtu, You are late for dinner.
— from A Dictionary of Cebuano Visayan by John U. Wolff

Though I have, in the foregoing chapters, shown how from simple ideas taken in by sensation, the mind comes to extend itself even to infinity; which, however it may of all others seem most remote from any sensible perception, yet at last hath nothing in it but what is made out of simple ideas: received into the mind by the senses, and afterwards there put together, by the faculty the mind has to repeat its own ideas; —Though, I say, these might be instances enough of simple modes of the simple ideas of sensation, and suffice to show how the mind comes by them, yet I shall, for method’s sake, though briefly, give an account of some few more, and then proceed to more complex ideas.
— from An Essay Concerning Humane Understanding, Volume 1 MDCXC, Based on the 2nd Edition, Books 1 and 2 by John Locke

Thus if anyone should praise you as learned, or rich, or influential, it would be well to bid him not talk about you in that strain, but say that you were good and harmless and useful.
— from Plutarch's Morals by Plutarch

But I knew I should persuade you at last.
— from Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

I shall punish you again later.”
— from The Longest Journey by E. M. (Edward Morgan) Forster

So the Romans consented to their going home; but when they asked to have all their rank and honours restored to them, Cato said, “Polybius, you are less wise than Ulysses.
— from Aunt Charlotte's Stories of Greek History by Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary) Yonge

By him unjustly wrong'd, should be al[l] justice, The slave protected; yet at length I found him, Found him, when he suppos'd all had been buried; And what I had received, durst not be questioned; And then he fell, under my Sword he fell, For ever sunk; his poor life, like the air, Blown in an empty bubble, burst, and left him, No noble wind of memory to raise him.
— from Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, Vol. 06 of 10 by John Fletcher

That is exactly what was wanted out of you, and you must excuse your questioner if he hurries on, so as not to be seen pumping you any longer than is necessary.
— from The Golden Censer Or, the duties of to-day, the hopes of the future by John McGovern

"Stop praising yourself and listen to me," said Hippy.
— from Grace Harlowe's Sophomore Year at High School The Record of the Girl Chums in Work and Athletics by Josephine Chase