Poor old Uncle Silas, he looked more like a dead person than a live one, his eyes was so hollow and he looked so thin and so mournful
If you ask me, I say this piece is as good as that one o' his, `Tell me not in mournful
numbers;' and consid'able clearer.
It was on the weddingday of this beloved friend that Emma first sat in mournful
thought of any continuance.
It is only because our connection happens to be very transitory, and comes at a peculiarly mournful
season, that I consent thus to render it so patient and compliant on my part.
She lifted the letter, and seemed to peruse it; and when she came to the signature she sighed: yet still I found she had not gathered its import, for, upon my desiring to hear her reply, she merely pointed to the name, and gazed at me with mournful
and questioning eagerness.
sound kept her awake because she felt mournful
To me, the remembrance of our last parting has been ever mournful
The dismal quarter of Soho seen under these changing glimpses, with its muddy ways, and slatternly passengers, and its lamps, which had never been extinguished or had been kindled afresh to combat this mournful
reinvasion of darkness, seemed, in the lawyer's eyes, like a district of some city in a nightmare.
sob burst from Villefort's heart; he approached the doctor, and seizing his arm, -- "Valentine," said he, "it is Valentine's turn
Shadows ran, as if bewildered, to and fro on the vessel, and mournful
cries accompanied these delirious walkers.
And so ended the Quaker persecution,--one of the most mournful
passages in the history of our forefathers.
There is infinite variety in the gales of wind at sea, and except for the peculiar, terrible, and mysterious moaning that may be heard sometimes passing through the roar of a hurricane - except for that unforgettable sound, as if the soul of the universe had been goaded into a mournful
groan - it is, after all, the human voice that stamps the mark of human consciousness upon the character of a gale.
The trees were dark in color, and mournful
in form and attitude, wreathing themselves into sad, solemn, and spectral shapes that conveyed ideas of mortal sorrow and untimely death.
Jorindel turned to see the reason, and beheld his Jorinda changed into a nightingale, so that her song ended with a mournful
She followed Dairyman Crick, and had the mournful
satisfaction of seeing that Clare remained behind.