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Consider:  Gawain is speaking on the third day of the hunting/ temptation game. "I shall first fulfill our formal agreement/ which we fixed in words when the drink flowed freely."/ He clasps him tight and kisses him three times/ with as much emotion as a man could muster.

— Fitt III, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

Consider:  Whenever he was so fortunate as to have near him a hare that had been kept too long, or a meat pie made with rancid butter, he gorged himself with such violence that his veins swelled, and the moisture broke out on his forehead. 

— Thomas Babington Macaulay, “Samuel Johnson”

Consider:  An old man, Don Tomasito, the baker, played the tuba. When he blew into the huge mouthpiece, his face would turn purple and his thousand wrinkles would disappear as his skin filled out.

— Alberto Alvaro Rios, “The Iguana Killer”

Consider:

CHARLEY (to WILLY): Why must everybody like you? Who liked J. P. Morgan? Was he impressive? In a Turkish bath he’d look like a butcher. But with his pockets on he was very well liked. Now listen, Willy, I know you don’t like me, and nobody can say I’m in love with you, but I’ll give you a job because – just for the hell of it, put it that way. Now what do you say?

— Arthur Miller, Death of a Salesman

Consider: To those who saw him often he seemed almost like two men: one the merry monarch of the hunt and banquet and procession, the friend of children, the patron of every kind of sport; the other the cold, acute observer of the audience chamber or the Council, watching vigilantly, weighing arguments, refusing except under the stress of great events to speak his own mind. 

— Winston Churchill, “King Henry VIII,” Churchill’s History of the English-Speaking Peoples

Consider: The truck lurched down the goat path, over the bridge and swung south toward El Puerto.  I watched carefully all that we left behind.  We passed Rosie's house and at the clothesline right at the edge of the cliff there was a young girl hanging out brightly colored garments.  She was soon lost in the furrow of dust the truck raised.

— Rudolfo Anyha, Bless Me, Ultima

Consider: He went on till he came to the first milestone, which stood in the bank, half-way up a steep hill.  He rested his basket on top of the stone, placed his elbows on it, and gave way to do a convulsive twitch, which was worse than sob, because it was so hard and so dry.

— Thomas Hardy, The Mayor of Casterbridge

Consider: The dog stood up and growled like a lion, stiff-standing hackles, teeth uncovered as he lashed up his fury for the charge.  Tea Cake split the water like an otter, opening his knife as he dived.  The dog raced down the back-bone of the cow to the attack and Janie screamed and slipped far back on the tail of the cow, just out of reach of the dog's angry jaws.

— Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God

Consider: 

MRS. VENABLE: … and the sand all alive, all alive, as the hatched sea-turtles made their dash for the sea, while the birds hovered and swooped to attack and hovered and—swooped to attack! They were diving down on the hatched sea-turtles, turning them over to expose their soft undersides, tearing the undersides open and rending and eating their flesh.

— Tennessee Williams, Suddenly Last Summer

Consider: If my mother was in a singing mood, it wasn't so bad.  She would sing about hard times, bad times, and somebody-done-gone-and-left me times.  But her voice was so sweet and her singing-eyes so melty I found myself longing for those hard times, yearning to be grown without "a thin di-I-ime to my name." I looked forward to the delicious time when "my man" would leave me, when I would "hate to see that evening sun go down..." 'cause then I would know' my man has left this town."  Misery colored by the greens and blues in my mother's voice took all of the grief right out of the words and left me with a conviction that pain was not only endurable, it was sweet.

— Toni Morrison, The Bluest Eye

Consider: About suffering they were never wrong,/ The Old Masters: how well they understood/  Its human position; how it takes place/  While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along;

— W.H. Arden, "Musee des Beaux Arts"

Consider: Under the hard, tough cloak of the struggle for existence in which money and enormous white refrigerators and shining, massive, brutally-fast cars and fine, expensive clothing had ostensibly overwhelmed the qualities of men that were good and gentle and just, there still beat a heart of kindness and patience and forgiveness.

— John Okada, No-No Boy

Consider:  I rounded the hut and saw a man's dead body sprawling in the mud. He was an Indian, a black Dravidian coolie, almost naked, and he could not have been dead many minutes. The people said that the elephant had come suddenly upon him round the corner of the hut, caught him with its trunk, put its foot on his back and ground him into the earth. This was the rainy season and the ground was soft, and his face had scored a trench a foot deep and a couple of yards long. He was lying on his belly with arms crucified and head sharply twisted to one side. His face was coated with mud, the eyes wide open, the teeth bared and grinning with an expression of unendurable agony.

— George Orwell, "Shooting an Elephant"

Consider:  I rounded the hut and saw a man's dead body sprawling in the mud. He was an Indian, a black Dravidian coolie, almost naked, and he could not have been dead many minutes. The people said that the elephant had come suddenly upon him round the corner of the hut, caught him with its trunk, put its foot on his back and ground him into the earth. This was the rainy season and the ground was soft, and his face had scored a trench a foot deep and a couple of yards long. He was lying on his belly with arms crucified and head sharply twisted to one side. His face was coated with mud, the eyes wide open, the teeth bared and grinning with an expression of unendurable agony. 

— Cristina Garcia, Dreaming in cuban

Consider: How fine it is to enter some old town, walled and turreted, just at approach of nightfall, or to come to some straggling village, with the lights streaming through the surrounding gloom; and then, after inquiring for the best entertainment that the place affords, to "take one's ease at one's inn!"

—William Hazlitt, "On Going a Journey"

Consider: She was wearing her usual at-home vesture.... It consisted mostly of a hoary midnight-blue Japanese kimono.  She almost invariably wore it through the apartment during the day.  With its many occultish-looking folds, it also served as the repository for the paraphernalia of a very heavy cigarette smoker and an amateur handyman; two oversized pockets had been added at the hips, and they usually contained two or three packs of cigarettes, several match folders, a screwdriver, a claw-end hammer, a Boy Scout knife that had once belong to one of her sons, and an enamel faucet handle or two, plus an assortment of screws, nails, hinges, and ball-bearing casters—all of which tended to make Mrs. Glass chink faintly as she moved about in her large apartment.

—J. D. Salinger, Franny and Zoey

Consider: In fact right behind her Gabriel could be seen piloting Ferddy Malins across the landing.  The latter, a young man of about forty, was of Gabriel's size and build, with very round shoulders.  His face was fleshy and pallid, touched with color only at the thick hanging lobes of his ears and at the wide wings of his nose.  He had coarse features, a blunt nose, a convex and receding brow, tumid and protruded lips.  His heavy-lidded eyes and the disorder of his scanty hair made him look sleepy.

—James Joyce, "The Dead," Dubliners

Consider: We went upstairs, through period bedrooms swathed in rose and lavender silk and vivid  with new flowers, through dressing rooms and poolrooms, and bathrooms, with sunken baths—intruding into one chamber where a disheveled man in pajamas was doing liver exercises on the floor.

—F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

Consider: My grandfather took me to the back of his house, to a room that my mother said was private, that she had yanked me away from when I once tried to look.  It had a bead curtain at the door and we passed through it and the beads rustled like tall grass.  The room was dim, lit by candles, and it smelled of incense, and my grandfather stood me before a little shrine with flowers and a smoking incense bowl and two brass candlesticks and between them a photo of a man in a Chinese mandarin hat.

—Robert Olen Butler, "Mr. Green," A Good Scent from a Strange Mountain

Consider: 

The wild gander leads his flock through the cool night,

Ya-honk he says, and sounds it down to me like an invitation,

The pert may suppose it meaningless, but I listening close,

Find its purpose and place up there toward the wintry sky.

The sharp-hoof'd moose of the north, the cat on the house-sill, the chickadee, the prairie-dog

The litter of the grunting sow as they tug at her

The brood of the turkey-hen and she with her half-spread wings,

I see in them and myself the same old law

—Walt Whitman, "Song of Myself," Leaves of Grass

Consider: The day has been hot and sultry.  The sun has set behind great banks of clouds which are piling up on the northwestern horizon.  Now that the light is beginning to fade, the great masses of cumulus, which are slowly gathering and rising higher toward the zenith, are lit up by pale flashes of sheet-lightning.

—W. J. Holland, "Sugaring for Moths," The Moth Book