"Claim" Quotes from Famous Books
... bliss he panted to enjoy," cried the old usurer, chuckling. "Take it altogether, 'tis the sweetest scheme we ever planned, and the most promising, Sir Giles! But when am I to claim Aveline? when ... — The Star-Chamber, Volume 2 - An Historical Romance • W. Harrison Ainsworth
... nothing in my life? She came in and went out of it like a phantom, and she did not begin to mean to me what she did to this old friend of hers. Just because at the close of her days it was discovered that I was of her kin, it established no bond of affection between us—nothing but a legal claim. If she had lived and we had grown dear to one another, and she had given the fortune to me out of her heart, then I should have accepted it gladly. But to have it bestowed on me merely by right of succession—I couldn't think of touching a ... — Flood Tide • Sara Ware Bassett
... become interesting to ascertain in the future how many pueblos, and which, concede to Pecos the honor of being the birthplace of that famed individual, and how many, as is the case with other great folks in more civilized communities, claim the same ... — Historical Introduction to Studies Among the Sedentary Indians of New Mexico; Report on the Ruins of the Pueblo of Pecos • Adolphus Bandelier
... communities, impolite to make inquiry into your neighbour's misfortune. If a man have the ill luck to lose his ship, he may well go through the rest of his life without hearing the mention of her name. It was understood in Farlingford that Loo Barebone had resigned his post on "The Last Hope" in order to claim a heritage in France. He had returned home, and was living quietly at Maidens Grave Farm with Mrs. Clubbe. It was, therefore, to be presumed that he had failed in his quest. This was hardly a matter for surprise to such as had inherited from ... — The Last Hope • Henry Seton Merriman
... loved her, and promised to return again. And for a while I meant to do so; but on our passage back our ship was wrecked. I could not at once find place upon another, and so took employment on the shore—none the less, however, intending some day to come back and claim her. What shall I say? It is the old story. The sea is wide, and I could interchange no tidings with her. Ill success followed me, and I could not return to Ostia. Then, little by little, as the months drifted past, and I believed her lost to me, her image began to fade from ... — The Continental Monthly, Vol. 6, No 2, August, 1864 - Devoted to Literature and National Policy • Various
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