The man's face seemed
tome to be refined and even pleasant.
It is a heavy
tome of over seven hundred pages, painfully careful and accurate, and startlingly original.
Here, on the cushion, lay a folio
tome, probably of the Chronicles of England, or other such substantial literature; even as, in our own days, we scatter gilded volumes on the centre table, to be turned over by the casual guest.
Gilbert laid down the ponderous medical
tome over which he had been poring until the increasing dusk of the March evening made him desist.
Half an hour later I was seated in the newspaper office with a huge
tome in front of me, which had been opened at the article "Weissmann versus Darwin," with the sub heading, "Spirited Protest at Vienna.
I snuffed it off, and, very ill at ease under the influence of cold and lingering nausea, sat up and spread open the injured
tome on my knee.
So, I made a rush towards the bookcase nearest me, and, without stopping further to consider matters, seized hold of the first dusty
tome upon which my hands chanced to alight, and, reddening and growing pale by turns, and trembling with fear and excitement, clasped the stolen book to my breast with the intention of reading it by candle light while my mother lay asleep at night.
Tomes, who has specially studied this family, that many of the same species have enormous ranges, and are found on continents and on far distant islands.
Consider the whole machinery of the civil law made necessary by these processes; the libraries of ponderous
tomes, the courts and juries to interpret them, the lawyers studying to circumvent them, the pettifogging and chicanery, the hatreds and lies!
In many dark old
tomes she met with chapters full of romance and poetry.
There was daylight enough for me in the drawing-room below; and there I would sit immersed in criminous
tomes weakly fascinated until I shivered and shook in my stocking soles.
Among other volumes of verse on the top shelf of the bookcase, of which I used to look at the outside without penetrating deeply within, were Pope's translation of the Iliad and the Odyssey, and Dryden's Virgil, pretty little
tomes in tree-calf, published by James Crissy in Philadelphia, and illustrated with small copper-plates, which somehow seemed to put the matter hopelessly beyond me.