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As the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, Maria stood at the edge of the cliff, her heart heavy with the weight of a thousand unspoken words, her gaze fixed on the endless expanse of the ocean stretching out before her. - "The Shadow of the Wind" by Carlos Ruiz Zafón.

The castle stood atop a sheer cliff, with the turbulent sea below battering its ancient walls, which had withstood the tests of time and war; inside, its halls whispered tales of old, secrets ensconced in the stones, while outside, the wind carried the scent of salt and the promise of a storm, weaving through the emerald grass that clung to the cliff's edge, defiant and wild. -
"The Thirteenth Tale" by Diane Setterfield.

On leaving the Maisons-Laffitte station, the train, emerging from beneath the tunnel that follows the platform, passes over a little bridge and enters the forest; in winter, one sees through the leafless trees a few houses scattered along the line, and, in the distance, the hazy silhouette of the old abbey, rising solemnly in the midst of the desolation of the park, where the naked branches of chestnuts and oaks form a web of black lace against the gray sky. -
"The Red and the Black" by Stendhal.