What I said in my epistle to my reverend friend and master, Doctor James, the incomparably industrious and learned bibliothecary of Oxford, I profess still; but I hold those canons of the apostles uncanonical.

She did not squint not as the sun crept through the Venetian blinds and seemed to ignite her already-luminous smaragdine eyes.

This simple spectation of the lungs is differenced from that which concomitates a pleurisy.

No one, however, thought of the haughty and secluded young gentleman who […] when he rode on his black hunter into Dublin, avoided the village, and took the high-road by Inchicore.