The most prosaic
woman likes to believe herself the object of a violent, a poetic passion; and without a grain of romance in her, Bertha had that spirit of intrigue which gave piquancy to the idea that the brother of the man she meant to marry was dying with love and jealousy for her sake.
Clare had studied the curves of those lips so many times that he could reproduce them mentally with ease: and now, as they again confronted him, clothed with colour and life, they sent an AURA over his flesh, a breeze through his nerves, which wellnigh produced a qualm; and actually produced, by some mysterious physiological process, a prosaic
The respectable companion instantly knocks him down with the ruled account-book; tells him in a literal, prosaic
way that he sees no such thing; shows him it's nothing but fees, fraud, horsehair wigs, and black gowns.
It was more than ever the prosaic
and brutal reality of the tavern.
It reminded you not of Watteau, whose landscapes are so idyllic that they recall only the woodland glens seen in dreams, but of the more prosaic
She realized the spell that had been upon her in the depths of that far-off jungle, but there was no spell of enchantment now in prosaic
I WAS sitting on the bank, conjuring up this scene to myself, when George remarked that when I was quite rested, perhaps I would not mind helping to wash up; and, thus recalled from the days of the glorious past to the prosaic
present, with all its misery and sin, I slid down into the boat and cleaned out the frying-pan with a stick of wood and a tuft of grass, polishing it up finally with George's wet shirt.
But waking, she was able to contemplate a perfectly loveless marriage, as the thing one did actually in real life, for possibly the people who dream thus are those who do the most prosaic
Strange as it seemed, the musicians were pale and heavy-eyed; they looked bored and prosaic
, as if the summit of their desire was cold meat and beer, succeeded immediately by bed.
In the prosaic
neighborhood of Middlemarch, May was not always warm and sunny, and on this particular morning a chill wind was blowing the blossoms from the surrounding gardens on to the green mounds of Lowick churchyard.
Any one who cares to do so might test the validity of those rules in the nearest possible way, by applying them to the varied examples in this wide  survey of what has been actually well done in English prose, here exhibited on the side of their strictly prosaic
merit--their conformity, before all other aims, to laws of a structure primarily reasonable.
Would the painful process go on until everything became prosaic