Read them and weep
Manfred, prince of Otranto, had one son and daughter: the latter, a most beautiful virgin, aged eighteen, was called Matilda.
(The Castle of Otranto – Horace Walpole)
Sympathize with me, indeed! Ah, no! Cast your sympathy on the chill waves of troubled waters; fling it on the oases of futility; dash it against the rock of gossip; or better still, allow it to remain within the false and faithless bosum of buried scorn.
(Irene Iddesleigh – Amanda McKittrick Ros)
It was a dark and stormy night, the rain fell in torrents—except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the house-tops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness.
(Paul Clifford – Edward Bulwer Lytton)
A destiny that leads the English to the Dutch is strange enough; but one that leads from Epsom into Pennsylvania, and thence into the hills that shut in Altamont over the proud coral cry of the cock, and the soft stone smile of an angel, is touched by that dark miracle of chance which makes new magic in a dusty world.
(Look Homeward, Angel – Thomas Wolfe)
I could go on but Petula (my python), has escaped.
Sharpe Words 