Dictation Sentences (Grades 4-6)

               Euclid was a good mathematician, but what is even more important, he had a scholarly, brilliantly ordered mind.  He had collected, slowly, carefully, and painstakingly, all the bits and pieces of geometrical learning that were known in the world of his day.  He had arranged and rearranged them, in the way you would start putting together a jigsaw puzzle, until they began to form a pattern.

Archimedes and the Door of Science—Bendick

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               A wooden screw, like a long corkscrew, was fitted into a cylinder-shaped case.  The bottom of the screw was placed in the water, and the top rested over land.  At the top of the screw there was a handle.

Archimedes and the Door of Science—Bendick

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               Aristotle, the tutor of Alexander the Great, pointed out that since the shadow of the earth on the moon was curved, the earth itself must be curved and have the form of a sphere.

Archimedes and the Door of Science—Bendick

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               “You always seem able to answer any problem, Archimedes,”  Hiero said, “so I shall give you this one.  Find out for me whether my crown is solid gold, or if that scoundrel of a goldsmith has mixed the gold with silver.”

Archimedes and the Door of Science—Bendick

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               When the agonizing pain receded a bit, Jack Gibbs was able to think again.  “I’ll never make it home,” he groaned.  “Not in one piece, anyway.”

               He sighed, and tried to shift his body to a more    comfortable position on the cold, rocky ground.  But               the movement caused another warm gush, and he knew if he were to live at all, he must lie still.

Book of Virtues—William Bennett

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               We had our swim before sundown, and while we were cooking our supper the oblique rays of light made a dazzling glare on the white sand about us.  The translucent red ball itself sank behind the brown stretches of corn field as we sat down to eat, and the

warm layer of air that had rested over the water and our clean sand bar grew fresher and smelled  of the rank ironweed and sunflowers growing on the flatter shore.

Book of Virtues—William Bennett

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               A wagoner was driving his team along a muddy lane with a full load behind them, when the wheels of his wagon sank so deep in the mire that no efforts of his horses could move them.  As he stood there, looking helplessly on, and calling loudly at intervals upon

Hercules for assistance, the god himself appeared, and said to him, “Put your shoulder to the wheel, man, and goad on your horses, and then you may call on Hercules to assist you.  If you won’t lift a finger to help yourself, you can’t expect Hercules or anyone else to come to your aid.”

Book of Virtues—William Bennett

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               “We could still go back,” he told himself.  “Behind us lies safety.  But once we cross the Rubicon into Italy, turning around is impossible. I must make the choice here.”

               He did not hesitate long.  He gave the word, and rode boldly across the shallow stream.

               “We have crossed the Rubicon!” he cried as he reached the far shore. “There is no turning back.”

Book of Virtues—William Bennett

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               Men Wanted for Hazardous Journey.  Small wages, bitter cold, long months of complete darkness, constant danger, safe return doubtful.  Honor and recognition in case of success. - Ernest Shackleton.

Book of Virtues—William Bennett

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               “Then you shall have your wish.  Tomorrow morning when the first rays of the sun fall through your window you shall have the golden touch.”

               When he had finished speaking, the stranger vanished.  King Midas rubbed his eyes.  “I must have dreamed it,” he said, “but how happy I should be if it were only true!”

Greek Myths—Geraldine McCaughrean

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In the beginning, God made the Earth and a sky overhead - sweet air instead of the breathless black of space.  But the Earth was dark, unformed, clad in water.  He moved over the face of the water, and gave each thing a name, without which a thing cannot be said to exist.

God’s People—Geraldine McCaughrean

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Soon more species swam the coral halls and mountain peaks of the seven seas than imagination can fathom.  Whales as huge as islands cruised their purple territories, singing their eerie music to the stars.

God’s People—Geraldine McCaughrean

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It is written that God made the Earth in six days and rested on the seventh.  Remember, however, when you stand beside a fossil, or the skeleton of a dinosaur, that one day is a thousand years in the mind of the Lord, and a thousand years as one day.

God’s People—Geraldine McCaughrean

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Toad sat straight down in the middle of the dusty road, his legs stretched out before him, and stared fixedly in the direction of the disappearing motorcar.  He breathed short, his face wore a placid, satisfied expression, and at intervals he faintly murmured, “Poop-poop!”

The Wind in the Willows—Kenneth Grahame

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“But what about Toad?” asked Mole anxiously, as they set off together.  “We can’t leave him here, sitting in the middle of the road by himself, in the distracted state he’s in!  It’s not safe. Supposing another Thing were to come along?”

“Oh, bother Toad,” said the Rat savagely; “I’ve done with him!”

The Wind in the Willows—Kenneth Grahame

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               Star and Bright were young calves, not yet a year old.  Their little horns had only begun to grow hard in the soft hair  by their ears.  Almanzo scratched around the little horns, because calves like that.  They pushed their moist, blunt noses between the bars, and

licked with their rough tongues.

               Almanzo took two carrots from the cow’s feed-box, and snapped little pieces off them, and fed the pieces one by one to Star and Bright.

Farmer Boy—Laura Ingalls Wilder

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They all settled down cozily by the big stove in the dining-room wall.  The back of the stove was in the parlor, where nobody went except when company came.   It was a fine stove; it warmed the dining-room and the parlor, its chimney warmed the bedrooms upstairs, and its whole top was an oven.

Farmer Boy—Laura Ingalls Wilder

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Mother always flew.  Her feet went pattering, her hands moved so fast you could hardly watch them.  She never sat down in the daytime, except at her spinning-wheel or loom, and then her hands flew, her feet tapped, the spinning-wheel was a blur or the loom was clattering, thump! thud! clickety-clack!  But on Sunday morning she made everybody else hurry, too.

Farmer Boy—Laura Ingalls Wilder

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Henry had scarcely reached manhood before he inherited the crown of England.  He had never shown any promise.  His father, the old king, had despaired of his son ever being anything but a noisy, pleasure-seeking rascal with a liking for the low life.  Now, all of a

sudden, he was obliged to rule a country, take charge of a government, take on the solemnity and demeanor of a king.  Few thought he could do it.

Shakespeare Stories by Geraldine McCaughrean

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By the time the pale sun went down beyond the muddy fields of Agincourt, the surviving French were gaping openmouthed at their defeat.  Their silk-fringed banners covered the dead, their marvelous horses lay butchered, their gilded armor was being filched by scavengers, and kites gathered in the sky, darker than the rain clouds.  The victory was England’s against all odds, and the defeated French could think of nothing but negotiating a truce.

Shakespeare Stories by Geraldine McCaughrean

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Descended from the noblest families of Rome, Julius Caesar was as great a man as any of his ancestors.  He gave the people everything: victory in war, prosperity, security, and a sense of greatness.  No wonder they adored him.  But was he truly their best friend?  Did he think of himself as a common man elected by his equals to guide them?  Or did he have grander ambitions?

Shakespeare Stories by Geraldine McCaughrean

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As Caesar passed that day through a shadowy archway, a blind fortune-teller sitting in the darkness called out to him: “Caesar! Beware the Ides of March! Beware!”  It chilled him to the marrow, that cry.

Shakespeare Stories by Geraldine McCaughrean

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Out, out, brief candle.

Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage

And then is heard no more.  It is a tale

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,

Signifying nothing.

Macbeth—William Shakespeare

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Warm and sweet, the scent of new milk came up from the streams hissing into the rising foam, and it mixed with the scents of springtime.  Laura’s feet were wet and cool in the dewy grass, the sunshine was warm on her neck, and Ellen’s flank was warmer against her cheek.  On its own little picket rope, Ellen’s baby calf bawled anxiously, and Ellen answered with a soothing moo.

Little Town on the Prairie by Laura Ingalls Wilder

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Mary was blind.  Even in the days before scarlet fever had taken the sight from her clear  blue eyes, she had never liked to work outdoors in the sun and wind.  Now she was happy to be useful indoors. Cheerfully she said, “I must work where I can see with my fingers. I couldn’t tell the difference between a pea vine and a weed at the end of a hoe, but I can wash dishes and make beds and take care of Grace.”

Little Town on the Prairie by Laura Ingalls Wilder

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Dobby shook his head.  Then, without warning, he leapt up and started banging his head furiously on the window, shouting, “Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!”

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets—J.K. Rowling

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“Don’t --what are you doing?” Harry hissed, springing up and pulling Dobby back onto the bed - Hedwig had woken up with a particularly loud screech and was beating her wings wildly against the bars of her cage.

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets—J.K. Rowling

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He dreamed that he was on show in a zoo, with a card reading UNDERAGE WIZARD attached to his cage.  People goggled through the bars at him as he lay, starving and weak, on a bed of straw.  He saw Dobby’s face in the crowd and shouted out, asking for help, but then Dobby called, “Harry Potter is safe there, sir!” and vanished.  Then the Dursleys appeared and Dudley rattled the bars of the cage, laughing at him.

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets—J.K. Rowling

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Harry learned quickly not to feel too sorry for the gnomes.  He decided to just drop the first one he caught over the hedge, but the gnome, sensing weakness, sank its razor-sharp teeth into Harry’s finger and he had a hard job shaking if off - until - “Wow, Harry - that must’ve been fifty feet....” The air was soon thick with flying gnomes.

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets –J.K. Rowling

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“Where’s Papa going with that ax?”  said Fern to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast.

“Out to the hoghouse,” replied Mrs. Arable.  “Some pigs were born last night.”

“I don’t see why he needs an ax,”  continued Fern, who was only eight.

Charlotte’s Web—E.B. White

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By the time the bus reached school, Fern had named her pet, selecting the most beautiful name she could think of.

“Its name is Wilbur,” she whispered to herself.

She was still thinking about the pig when the teacher said: “Fern, what is the capital of Pennsylvania?”

“Wilbur,” replied Fern, dreamily.   The pupils giggled.  Fern blushed.

Charlotte’s Web—E.B. White

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Finally, one morning toward the middle of July, the idea came.  “Why, how perfectly simple!”  she said to herself.  “The way to save Wilbur’s life is to play a trick on Zuckerman.  If I can fool a bug,” thought Charlotte, “I can surely fool a man.  People are not as smart as bugs.”

Charlotte’s Web—E.B. White

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HOT ICE CREAMS FOR COLD DAYS, it said on the next door. “Extremely useful in the winter,” said Mr. Wonka, rushing on.  “Hot ice cream warms you up no end in freezing weather.  I also make hot ice cubes for putting in hot drinks.  Hot ice cubes make hot drinks

hotter.”

Charlie & the Chocolate Factory—Roald Dahl

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“But Mr. Wonka,” said Charlie Bucket anxiously, “will Violet Beauregarde ever be all right again, or will she always be a blueberry?”

“They’ll de-juice her in no time flat!”  declared Mr. Wonka.  “They’ll roll her into the de-juicing machine, and she’ll come out just as thin as a whistle!”

“But will she still be blue all over?” asked Charlie.

“She’ll be PURPLE!” cried Mr. Wonka.  “A fine rich purple from head to toe! But there you are!  That’s what comes from chewing disgusting gum all day long!”

Charlie & the Chocolate Factory—Roald Dahl

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“There!” cried Mr. Wonka, dancing up and down and pointing his gold-topped cane at the great brown river.  “It’s all chocolate! Every drop of that river is hot melted chocolate of the finest quality.  The very finest quality.  There’s enough chocolate there to fill every bathtub in the entire country! And the swimming pools as well!  Isn’t it terrific?”

Charlie & the Chocolate Factory—Roald Dahl

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Round the corner came a black horse, no hobbit-pony but a full-sized horse; and on it sat a large man, who seemed to crouch in the saddle, wrapped in a great black cloak and hood, so that only his boots in the high stirrups showed below; his face was shadowed and invisible.

The Fellowship of the Ring—JRR Tolkein

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He had hardly sat down, when there came a soft knock at the front door. “Lobelia again most likely,” he thought.  “She must have thought of something really nasty, and have come back again to say it. It can wait.”

He went on with his tea.  The knock was repeated, much louder, but he took no notice.  Suddenly the wizard’s head appeared at the window.

“If you don’t let me in, Frodo, I shall blow your door right down your hole and out through the hill,” he said.

The Fellowship of the Ring—JRR Tolkein

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When Frodo came to himself he was still clutching the Ring desperately.  He was lying by the fire, which was now piled high and burning brightly.  His three companions were bending over him.

“What has happened?  Where is the pale king?”  he asked wildly.

The Fellowship of the Ring—JRR Tolkein

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An overwhelming longing to rest and remain at peace by Bilbo’s side in Rivendell filled all his heart.  At last with an effort Frodo spoke, and wondered to hear his own words, as if some other will was using his small voice.

“I will take the Ring,” he said, “though I do not know the way.”

The Fellowship of the Ring—JRR Tolkein

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He took from the box a small sword in an old shabby leathern scabbard.  Then he drew it, and its polished and well-tended blade glittered  suddenly, cold and bright.  “This is Sting,” he said, and thrust it with little effort deep into a wooden beam.  “Take it, if you like.  I shan’t want it again, I expect.”

The Fellowship of the Ring—JRR Tolkein

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There was a ringing clash and a stab of white fire. The Balrog fell back and its sword flew up in molten fragments.  The wizard swayed on the bridge, stepped back a pace, and then again stood still.

“You cannot pass!” he said.

The Fellowship of the Ring—JRR Tolkein

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The Balrog reached the bridge.  Gandalf stood in the middle of the span, leaning on the staff in his left hand, but in his other hand Glamdring gleamed, cold and white.  His enemy halted again, facing him, and the shadow about it reached out like two vast wings.

It raised the whip, and the throngs whined and cracked.  Fire cane from its nostrils.  But Gandalf stood firm.

“You cannot pass,” he said.

The Fellowship of the Ring—JRR Tolkein

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One morning she boiled molasses and sugar together until they made a thick syrup, and Pa brought in two pans of clean, white snow from outdoors.  Laura and Mary each had a pan, and Pa and Ma showed them how to pour the dark syrup in little streams on to the snow.

They made circles, and curlicues, and squiggledy things, and these hardened at once and were candy.

Little House in the Big Woods—Laura Ingalls Wilder

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I just let my thoughts run and I though of the most surprising things.

Anne of Green Gables—L.M. Montgomery

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The things you wanted so much when you were a child don't seem half so wonderful to you when you get them.

Anne of Green Gables—L.M. Montgomery

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It's good advice, but I expect it will be hard to follow; good advice is apt to be, I think.

Anne of Green Gables—L.M. Montgomery

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Beyond lay the sea, misty and purple, with its haunting, unceasing murmur.

Anne of Green Gables—L.M. Montgomery

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There was a freshness in the air as if a wind had blown over honey-sweet fields of clover.

Anne of Green Gables—L.M. Montgomery

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All day the forest seemed to him to be very sad. He had never seen it so gloomy. There was a strange sadness in the rustle of the leaves, and a sadness in the noise of the streams.