"To be plunged straight into the old nut and bolt shop, as was the writer's experience, during a spell of cloudless June Weather was a real hardship, and the mind kept flitting back to the glint of blue water under willow trees and the click of ball on bat on a quiet spacious greensward."
— 1944 September and October, A Former Pupil, “Some Memories of Crewe Works—I”, in Railway Magazine, page 283:
""My name is Elphinstone, ma'am," said the young man, and then he cleared his throat and gave a glint at Mary, and grew redder in the face than ever."
— 1849, chapter V, in Passages in the Life of Mrs. Margaret Maitland, of Sunnyside. […], volume I, London: Henry Colburn, page 147:
"Are ye the gentleman that’s speering for my hayreens—they’re fresh this morning—cast a glint at them, sir, and you’ll say you neever saw rubies, emeralds, and silver, and gold, sparkle sa boneely as the finny jewels that dazzle ye in this wee basket."
— c. 1858, Charles Selby, The Bonnie Fish Wife: An Original Musical Interlude in One Act, Lacy's Acting edition, London: Thomas Hailes Lacy, Scene II, page 15:
"“[…] I also remember the following dialogue in the Suffolk vernacular between a neighbouring farmer and his backus (¹) boy :—‘I sa, Mester?’ ‘ Well, bor.’ (²) ‘If thar ain't Sillett's owd razor-backed hogs broke out agin. That thar owd sarpint of a sow ha' got her snout under the gate, and lifted it off the jimmers, (³) and I ketched a glint (⁴) of the rest on 'em skrigglin' (⁵) thar way through the shruff (⁶) in the hedge holl (⁷) and making another gap right atwin (⁸) the stub-apple (⁹) and the touch-wood (¹⁰) tree, and tha ha' bin' a pamplin' (¹¹) all over the land, and rootin (¹²) up our taters, and not one on 'em ringled (¹³). Mester, I think we'd better pound 'em.'” (¹⁴)"
— 1875, Frederick Clifford, chapter XII, in The Agricultural Lock-out of 1874 […], Edinburgh; London: William Blackwood and Sons, page 281:
"Thor glared at him [...] what little light there was in the place mustered its forces briefly to glint menacingly off the horns of his helmet."
— 1982, Douglas Adams, Life, the Universe and Everything, page 110: