[…] the rays of the moon were only reflected from the shattered armor, and the useless weapons, which those gallant warriors, so full of hope and ardor, had that day wielded, and which their vigorless hands still grasped even in death!

After her mother's death, my friend grew remote for a time while she dealt with her grief.

He knew very well that he was the proprietor or appropriator of the money, which, according to all proper calculation, ought to have fallen to his younger brother, and he had, we may be sure, some secret pangs of remorse within him, which warned him that he ought to perform some act of justice, or, let us say, compensation, towards these disappointed relations.

You'd never calkelate he was mean-turned from his looks. But he grab-snatched everything the old man had. Got away with his house[-]plunder even.