"I don't know how in the world I can ever repay you for your goodness to us."
— from Barry Wynn; Or, The Adventures of a Page Boy in the United States Congress by George Barton

I live and die in the conviction that what is called equal rights is a fable; to free the negro will never do a particle of good, they will be exterminated, when it comes to the pass that a negro may sit in the White House at Washington.
— from Villa Eden: The Country-House on the Rhine by Berthold Auerbach

may be seen supported by old cob walls, and there is nothing likely to be asked of the material in the way of strength to which it cannot easily respond.
— from Cottage Building in Cob, Pisé, Chalk and Clay: A Renaissance (2nd edition) by Clough Williams-Ellis

One of them tigris women I calls 'er,” retorted Jane, who had formed her opinion with lightning rapidity when Elisabeth made a farewell visit to Sunnyside before leaving Monkshaven.
— from The Hermit of Far End by Margaret Pedler

The whale is commonly eaten raw, and the sea wolf dried and cooked in the same manner as their fish, except the sinews, the [Pg 90] marrow, the brain, and now and then a slice of the flesh, which they devour raw with extreme avidity.
— from Travels in Kamtschatka, during the years 1787 and 1788, Volume 2 by Lesseps, Jean-Baptiste-Barthélemy, baron de

In a word, the social currency of knowledge to the extent to which it can exist requires as its condition, and is evidence of, the equal social currency of certain interests, purposes, or points of view for predication; and if it be possible to make socially current an item of concrete knowledge, with all its concrete fulness of detail, then a fortiori it must be possible to make socially current the concrete individual purpose with reference to which this item of knowledge first of all took form.
— from Studies in Logical Theory by John Dewey

The first men to whom illuminations came evidently received these gifts out of some purity of intention and moral excellence.
— from Understanding the Scriptures by Francis John McConnell

“I look for neither,—I hope for neither!” said I, wringing my hands; “but you shall hear my story,—you are the last to whom I can ever reveal it!
— from Confessions Of Con Cregan, the Irish Gil Blas by Charles James Lever