Joseph Conrad

“ She has always . . . She is a saint in heaven now, and I cannot give you up to her. No, Giovanni. Only to God alone. You were mad but it is done. Oh! what have you done? Giovanni, my beloved, my life, my master, do not leave me here in this grave of clouds. You cannot leave me now! You must take me away at once this instant in the little boat. Giovanni, carry me off tonight, from my fear of Linda's eyes, before I have to look at her again."
She nestled close to him. The slave of the San Tome silver felt the weight as of chains upon his limbs, a pressure as of a cold hand upon his lips. ”

“ Still, looking at the ingot of silver, she shook her head at Don Pépé's remark:
"If it had not been for the lawless tyranny of your government, Don Pépé, many an outlaw now with Hernandez would be living peaceable and happy by the honest work of his hands."
"Señora," cried Don Pépé, with enthusiasm, "it is true! It is as if God had given you the power to look into the very breasts of people. You have seen them working round you, Doña Emilia—meek as lambs, patient like their own burros, brave like lions. ”

“ The sun of Pedrito's entry into Sulaco, the last sun of Señor Hirsch's life, the first of Decoud's solitude on the Great Isabel, passed over the Albergo d'ltalia Una on its way to the west. The tinkling drip, drip of the filter had ceased, the lamp up-stairs had burned itself out, and the night beset Giorgio Viola and his dead wife with its obscurity and silence that seemed invincible till the capataz de cargadores, returning from the dead, put them to flight with the sputter and flare of a match.
"Si, viejo. It is me. Wait." ”