1 The acrid smell of stale beer saluted her; and voices talking.
2 The very stale air of the colliery was better than oxygen to him.
3 He was successfully supplanted for a while, at the beginning of the present century, by Buonaparte; but as process of time rendered the latter personage stale and ineffective the older phrase resumed its early prominence.
Return of the Native By Thomas HardyContext Highlight In BOOK 1: 9 Love Leads a Shrewd Man into Strategy 4 A man who advocates aesthetic effort and deprecates social effort is only likely to be understood by a class to which social effort has become a stale matter.
Return of the Native By Thomas HardyContext Highlight In BOOK 3: 2 The New Course Causes Disappointment 5 "I trust that age doth not wither nor custom stale my infinite variety," said he, and I recognized in his voice the joy and pride which the artist takes in his own creation.
The Return of Sherlock Holmes By Arthur Conan DoyleContext Highlight In I. THE ADVENTURE OF THE EMPTY HOUSE 6 A cigarette glowed amid the tangle of white hair, and the air of the room was fetid with stale tobacco smoke.
The Return of Sherlock Holmes By Arthur Conan DoyleContext Highlight In X. THE ADVENTURE OF THE GOLDEN PINCE-NEZ 7 She felt a stealing sense of fatigue as she walked; the sparkle had died out of her, and the taste of life was stale on her lips.
8 The smell grows constantly thicker, more stale.
9 The stale air seemed never to change.
10 WINTER LIES TOO LONG in country towns; hangs on until it is stale and shabby, old and sullen.
11 She brought also a bit of stale rye bread that some one had given her, and with that they quieted the children and got them to sleep.
12 It was all thick slabs of slate and water trickled all day out of tiny pinholes and there was a queer smell of stale water there.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContext Highlight In Chapter 1 13 An evil smell, faint and foul as the light, curled upwards sluggishly out of the canisters and from the stale crusted dung.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContext Highlight In Chapter 3 14 They moved in slow circles, circling closer and closer to enclose, to enclose, soft language issuing from their lips, their long swishing tails besmeared with stale shite, thrusting upwards their terrific faces.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContext Highlight In Chapter 3 15 "Must get a bit stale, I should think," he said.