Sinner

Examples

• Ye couldn't treat a poor sinner, now, to a bit of sermon, could ye,--eh? Harriet Beecher Stowe. Uncle Tom's Cabin.
• Now this won't do, said John, hardening his heart against the engaging little sinner. Louisa May Alcott. Little Women.
• Presently he pulls up, all of a sudden, and hollers out, “Where is the sinner; where is the mis'rable sinner? Charles Dickens. The Pickwick Papers.
• It was harsh, it was shocking, even as applied to the most hardened sinner, in such a state of mental and bodily suffering. Harriette Wilson. The Memoirs of Harriette Wilson.
• It is I who am the sinner after all; I am not worth the little finger of either of you. Thomas Hardy. The Return of the Native.
• Oh, you wenerable sinner,' cried another. Charles Dickens. The Pickwick Papers.
• She was such a miserable wicked sinner. William Makepeace Thackeray. Vanity Fair.
• Growin' tired of bricklayin', sir, I goes down a bit for a breath of air, and there, sir, as I'm a sinner, I hears the dip of oars. Fergus Hume. The Island of Fantasy.
• Ah, He helps the sinner as well as the saint; for you see I also am alive and well. Fergus Hume. The Island of Fantasy.
• I am English born, and love no such Eastern prostrations--Kneel to God, and not to a poor sinner, like me. Walter Scott. Ivanhoe.
• Be that as it may, if our good senator was a political sinner, he was in a fair way to expiate it by his night's penance. Harriet Beecher Stowe. Uncle Tom's Cabin.
• Now if it was Dick, now—here the old sinner cast up his eyes, as if unable to guess at Dick's enormities. Fergus Hume. The Island of Fantasy.
• I laid it in your desk with a prayer: I must indeed be a sinner: Heaven will not hear the petitions that come warmest from my heart. Charlotte Bronte. Villette.
• Well, I needn't be a sour saint nor a selfish sinner, and, I dare say, old maids are very comfortable when they get used to it, but. Louisa May Alcott. Little Women.
• Presently he pulls up again, and lookin' wery hard at me, says, “Where is the sinner; where is the mis'rable sinner? Charles Dickens. The Pickwick Papers.
• But, Sir, I thought every story should have some sort of a moral, so I took care to have a few of my sinners repent. Louisa May Alcott. Little Women.
• Well, here's a pious dog, at last, let down among us sinners! Harriet Beecher Stowe. Uncle Tom's Cabin.
• On rising, another struck up a Methodist hymn, of which the burden was, The year of Jubilee is come,-- Return, ye ransomed sinners, home. Harriet Beecher Stowe. Uncle Tom's Cabin.
• Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Hemingway, Ernest. For Whom The Bell Tolls.
• She became the dreadful example at which all her fellow sinners could cry out. H. G. Wells. The Outline of History_Being a Plain History of Life and Mankind.
• Sinners told their sins to the pure-hearted old man and were both rebuked and saved. Louisa May Alcott. Little Women.
• And all men were brothers--sinners alike and beloved sons alike of this divine father. H. G. Wells. The Outline of History_Being a Plain History of Life and Mankind.
• Again, I see her dark eyes roll round the church when she says 'miserable sinners', as if she were calling all the congregation names. Charles Dickens. David Copperfield.
• Have not mere sinners like myself been commissioned to lay it low in all time? Charles Dickens. Little Dorrit.
• Law, you niggers, she would say to some of her auditors, does you know you 's all sinners? Harriet Beecher Stowe. Uncle Tom's Cabin.
• Well, said Shelby, I must say these ministers sometimes carry matters further than we poor sinners would exactly dare to do. Harriet Beecher Stowe. Uncle Tom's Cabin.
• With the same captain and even the same pilgrims, the same sinners. Mark Twain. The Innocents Abroad.
• Oh, my young friends and fellow-sinners! Wilkie Collins. The Moonstone.
• But didn't anybody ever tell you of the Lord Jesus, that loved us poor sinners, and died for us? Harriet Beecher Stowe. Uncle Tom's Cabin.
• How can such miserable sinners as we are entertain so much pride as to conceit that every offence against our imagined honour merits _death_? Benjamin Franklin. Memoirs of Benjamin Franklin.

Checked by Dick