Datasets:

alac
/

deslop-sentence

input stringlengths 10 962	target stringlengths 4 877
"She is so small and unexpectedly beautiful; I had hoped they might consider ransoming her."	"She is very small and very beautiful; I had hoped that they would hold her for ransom."
Hidden in the shadows, he stealthily approached the nearest window, eager to catch a glimpse of the festivities unfolding inside.	Thence, still hugging the shadow, he edged his way cautiously forward to the nearest window, holding back his straight spare body and craning his neck till he got a glimpse of the room.
And now that you're here, Frank, I wish you could stay longer, but I know that's unrealistic.	Now that you're here, Frank, I wish you'd stay. But that's no good.
Then, without warning, the brilliance vanished, plunging the streets back into an all-consuming void—a chaotic enigma.	Abruptly the flare was extinguished and the ways were an inky darkness once more, a tumultuous mystery.
A quick examination showed no broken bones or signs of struggle; it seemed he had simply succumbed to the relentless march of time.	She ran an experienced eye over the bleached frame, but saw no broken bones nor any sign of violence.
“Do you genuinely believe your preposterous claims of operating within legal limits would stand up in a court of law?”	"Do you think for one instant that your fantastic claim of acting legally will stand up in court?"
When he reached 35 Maple Street, an oppressive silence enveloped the plain structure, sending chills racing down his spine.	He stood in front of 35 Maple Street. The silence which surrounded that plain white-shuttered house struck him as ominous.
"They did not issue medals to all who merely heard gunfire in those tumultuous times.	"They did not hang medals in those days on all who by accident had heard a gun fired.
Bartholomew fell silent once more, then cautiously asked, “Is she with child, my son?”	Bartholomew held his peace again for a while; then he said: "Goeth she with child, my son?"
"It is utterly unjust," I exclaimed, "for me to remain a mere spectator while that gentleman goes unrecognized. If you deem it fitting, I would be more than happy to present him with a generous token of my appreciation for his fairness toward both myself and his master."	"It is a pity," said I, "that I should sit here and make that gentleman no amends; if you would direct me, sir," said I, "how to do it, I would make him a handsome present, and acknowledge the justice he had done to me, as well as to the prince, his master."
The applause erupted around us, and as I sank back into my seat, I caught Sapt nodding approvingly from behind his wine glass, while Fritz shot me a warning glare.	In a tumult of applause I sat down: I saw Sapt smiling over his wine, and Fritz frowning.
Approaching all indigenous peoples with the gentleness one would reserve for a cherished child, Sanders fostered a silent trust, though his perceptions were tinged by certain biases.	By Sanders' code you trusted all natives up to the same point, as you trust children, with a few notable exceptions.
China Aster nodded in assent, drafting a new note for one thousand dollars, payable in four years.	So China Aster gave Orchis his note for one thousand dollars at four years.
Our calculations indicate that with this four-hundred-pound bar”—he gestured toward the copper cylinder nestled within the inner sphere—“we could not only reach the speed of light but also accelerate to match that velocity, were it not for mass increase at high speeds, as elucidated by Einstein and others.	Our figures show that with this four-hundred-pound bar"--pointing to the copper cylinder in the exact center of the inner sphere--"we could develop not only the velocity of light, but an acceleration equal to that velocity, were it not for the increase in mass at high velocities, as shown by Einstein and others.
The mechanics of her victory bewildered her, yet instinct urged her to dismiss thoughts of her narrow escape.	She longed to take time to retrace her own cleverness in steering. She didn't. She kept going.
De Catinat came from a prominent Huguenot family, but the untimely loss of his parents had thrust him into a tumultuous military life, where he overcame adversity and steadily climbed the ranks without the support of powerful allies.	De Catinat was sprung from a noble Huguenot family, but having lost his parents early he had joined the army, and had worked his way without influence and against all odds to his present position.
“Oh, it’s not that,” she replied, impatience simmering just beneath the surface; “I’m not afraid of others! They’ve never cared about me—why should I fear their opinions?”	"Oh, it's not THAT," she exclaimed, almost impatiently; "it's not people I'm afraid of! They've never put themselves out for me--why on earth should I care about them?"
"Sensitive, are we?" the man observed dryly, seizing Don Diego's wrist between his thumb and forefinger.	"Tender, eh?" said the stranger. He took Don Diego's wrist between thumb and second finger.
Rodvard remarked, “What you’ve revealed is profoundly unsettling.	Rodvard said; “What you say is very strange.
The somber mood evaporated; the chill that had obscured his eyes melted away, replaced by a flicker of renewed spirit.	His abstraction vanished; the sternness fled; his eyes sparkled.
Gripping his reins tightly, the knight prepared to charge at the boy with unbridled ferocity.	Suiting action to word the knight reared his horse, prepared to bring the boy to earth.
He stands before you!” With an emphatic gesture, she pointed to Larry, whose gaze met hers for the briefest of heartbeats.	And this is he!" She pointed down upon Larry. He glanced up at her.
Their united cry of "Never!" shattered the sea's stillness, resonating defiantly through the ranks of our foes.	Their fearful shout of "Never!" disturbed the silence of the sea, and must have been heard by the distant enemy.
“For heaven's sake, let us in!” one voice implored, slicing through the clamor.	“Open the door,” some one shrieked, “for heaven’s sake!”
Hilton opened his mouth to respond, but Temple interjected, resolute.	Hilton started to say something, but Temple rushed heedlessly on:
Someone was indeed spying on Captain Anthony.	Somebody else besides himself had been watching Captain Anthony.
In that fleeting moment, he dared to believe that the tales told by Hobart were mere figments of imagination, that this land had somehow evaded the relentless grasp of civilization.	Almost he could believe that the records Hobart had showed him were false, that this world had never known intelligent life herding together in cities.
"The subject maintains he has no knowledge of the battleship," the robot repeated unflinchingly.	"The subject has no knowledge of the battleship," the robot said coldly.
Dressed in miner’s garb with a curious cap perched atop his head, he certainly made for an unusual sight.	The boy was dressed in a miner's dress, with a curious cap on his head.
“Indeed!” I exclaimed, excitement bubbling within me.	“Ah, indeed!” exclaimed I.
To my surprise, she forcefully pushed me away. “You don’t truly care for your friend!” she exclaimed, her voice ringing with a fury that rendered me momentarily speechless.	She put me from her sharply, “You do not love your friend,” says she.
“Like what?” Nasha withdrew her hand, concern apparent in her features.	"Like what?" Nasha pulled her hand away.
He felt himself slowing, the world around him decelerating to an agonizing crawl.	He felt he was travelling slower, and suddenly very much slower.
“_Mordioux!_ I knew I wasn't mistaken!”	“I was sure I could not be mistaken!”
"Absolutely not!" Cap'n Bill retorted, shaking his head vigorously, as if to dispel the very thought.	"Of course not!" declared Cap'n Bill.
I nearly collided with Craphound, whose exuberant grin revealed rows of slick, gleaming teeth lined with writhing, menacing suckers.	I collided with Craphound. He grinned his natural grin, the one that showed row on row of wet, slimy gums, tipped with writhing, poisonous suckers.
“Let this not be your final word, citoyenne,” he called after her, a shaft of light from the passage illuminating her graceful and elaborately adorned silhouette. “I eagerly await our next encounter in London!”	"That is not your last word, citoyenne," said Chauvelin, as a flood of light from the passage illumined her elegant, richly-clad figure, "we meet in London, I hope!"
"Can we pause for a moment? I need to catch my breath. Where are we headed?"	"Do, pray, let me get my breath first. Which way are we going?"
“A fine piece,” I remarked nonchalantly as I set it down on the bar beside me.	"Nice weapon," I said. I laid it on the open bar at my right.
Before us loomed an intimidating door, three inches thick, hewn from ancient olive wood and reinforced with sturdy iron straps.	It was a stout door, three inches thick, of ancient olivewood and reinforced with forged iron bands.
“Forgive my ignorance, demoiselle,” Slair said earnestly. “I had no idea you were such a fervent royalist…”	Demadé Slair said; “I crave your pardon, demoiselle; truly. I did not know you were so royalist. . . .
Perhaps, in that moment, she might see herself mirrored in my words and truly grasp the depth of the farewell I offered from the very marrow of my being.	She would see her own image in it as in a mirror; and perhaps then she would understand what it was I was saying farewell to on the very threshold of my life.
"Mind your manners," the Caterpillar warned sharply.	'Keep your temper,' said the Caterpillar.
“Does time not diminish the gods?” I inquired, curiosity ignited.	"Then does Time not kill the gods?" I said to him and he answered, "No.
She interjected softly, “But Jack tried to introduce him, and he was unbearable.”	"But you know Jack did try to take him about, and he was impossible."
With that, a gentle sigh escaped her lips.	And she sighed.
The older man met Sanin's gaze, his eyes reflective of sorrow, and nodded solemnly, though it was unclear if he fully grasped the weight of the request.	The old man looked dejectedly at him, and nodded his head affirmatively.... But God knows whether he understood what Sanin was asking him to do.
"Did you conspire with those pirates to bring her to this disgraceful condition?" the vice president retorted, venom lacing his words.	"You helped these pirates do this to her?"
Yet I remained, ensnared in a tempest of desperate hope and the suffocating horror that clutched at my heart.	But then I waited--hope striving to break through the nightmare hands that gripped my heart.
"Nay, Macumazahn," he replied, shaking his head. "Only a third of our forces has gathered.	"Nay, Macumazahn," he answered, "but a third of it.
Without such inspiration, who among the youth would willingly trade their mundane existences for the arduous yet noble pursuit of becoming a "scientist"?	Without some such inspiration, for such glories and positions only as a "scientist" may expect, what young man would have given his life to such work, as young men do?
Undeterred, my friend seizing a torch from one of the guides, propelled us into the unknown.	My friend shortened the harangue, by taking the man's torch from him; and we proceeded alone.
As Anthony struggled to haul Maury’s suitcase up the stairs, he discreetly slipped into the room and gently closed the door behind him.	Anthony, carrying Maury's suitcase up-stairs, followed into the room and carefully closed the door.
Her aspirations for a fresh start in Boston had soared, particularly after enduring two grueling weeks in Edgewood.	She had been glad to come to Boston, for the last two weeks in Edgewood had proved intolerable.
"Absolutely!" Trot replied, her spirit ignited by a renewed sense of determination.	"Of course we are!" cried Trot.
Was the King dead? That agonizing thought pierced my mind like a frostbitten dagger.	Was the King dead? It was my first thought.
"It makes for an amazing opening paragraph!" Ronny declared, his eyes sparkling with excitement.	"It gives me a good opening paragraph," Ronny said.
As Tarb gradually surfaced from the depths of unconsciousness, she found herself unceremoniously sprawled across Drosmig's desk.	When Tarb came to, she found herself lying upon Drosmig's desk.
Alternatively, he uncovered remnants of once-thriving seal colonies, ruthlessly annihilated by human hands, reinforcing his belief that wherever humanity ventured, destruction followed.	Or else he could see that seals had once visited the island and been killed off, and Kotick knew that where men had come once they would come again.
All these rapid maneuvers unfolded in mere moments, culminating in the agonized wail of the ship's siren, sounding thrice to summon every crew member, whether asleep or awake, to immediate action.	This done, and it had all been done in a couple of seconds, he worked the electric switch of the syren, which screamed out quickly once, twice, thrice. This is the dread sound which means 'man overboard,' and draws to his post every man on the ship, waking or sleeping.
Despite Achmet Zek's forces enjoying a distinct numerical advantage and gradually overwhelming the loyal soldiers of Menelek, Tarzan remained unfazed by the outcome of this savage conflict.	Numerically the men of Achmet Zek were superior, and slowly but surely the soldiers of Menelek were being exterminated. To Tarzan the result was immaterial.
"What could he possibly think? Now consider this," Hollanden continued, growing more confident, "there's no way he could—think anything at all. Right?"	"What could he think? Now, what could he think? Why," said Hollanden, waxing eloquent, "he couldn't under any circumstances think--think anything at all. Now, could he?"
They stand unwavering, united in their conviction.	They have not submitted; they have not drawn back, not an inch; they have not quarrelled among themselves.
“Does this station have a call sign?” he inquired urgently.	"Has this station a call letter?" he hurriedly asked me.
Do you genuinely think the impassioned creator of _Antony and Cleopatra_ was unaware of the choice he made in marrying the plainest woman in all of Warwickshire?	Do you think the writer of _Antony and Cleopatra_, a passionate pilgrim, had his eyes in the back of his head that he chose the ugliest doxy in all Warwickshire to lie withal?
“I really struggle to read letters,” Mike admitted with a laugh. “It’s rather amusing, don’t you think?”	“I can’t read letters,” Mike said. “Funny, isn’t it?”
_It is utterly true_—so strikingly authentic that its tragic nuances may resonate within your own home, awakening emotions you thought long dormant.	_All is true_,--so true, that every one can discern the elements of the tragedy in his own house, perhaps in his own heart.
Meanwhile, please enjoy this cocktail—crafted," she added, glancing at Miss Mayblunt, "by my father in honor of Sister Janet's wedding."	Meanwhile, I shall ask you to begin with this cocktail, composed--would you say 'composed?'" with an appeal to Miss Mayblunt--"composed by my father in honor of Sister Janet's wedding."
I must have been carried to bed, drifting in and out of consciousness for the hours that followed. Night had fallen when I finally regained my senses, discovering Fritz vigilantly at my side.	I suppose that I was put to bed, and there lay, unconscious, or half conscious, for many hours; for it was night when I awoke to my full mind, and found Fritz beside me.
Even when his lover abandoned him, his resolve remained intact.	His sweetheart left him.
They journeyed throughout the day, as the sun dipped toward the horizon and welcoming inhabitants opened their doors, offering food and drink in abundance.	They went all day till the sun was near setting, and were not weary, for they turned into the houses by the way when they would, and had good welcome and meat and drink and what they would of the folk that dwelt there.
He marveled at the warmth with which he had been received by Mrs. Phillips, who, despite their scant acquaintance, had invited him to dinner the very next evening.	for she had not only received him with the utmost civility, but even pointedly included him in her invitation for the next evening, although utterly unknown to her before.
I observed closely, Baas, as they passed directly beneath my tree.	I saw everything, Baas, for they passed just beneath my tree.
Had I conformed to the expectations of my heritage, I would have embraced the life of a Russian aristocrat—loving, marrying, and ultimately fading into obscurity, leaving this narrative untold.	Had the natural expectations for my birth and condition been fulfilled, I should have lived, loved, married and died a Russian aristocrat, and been unknown to the next generation--and this narrative would not have been written.
In the sunlit doorway, the captain's large brown hand cradled the delicate child, who radiated an enchanting aura, drawing a collective gasp from those assembled.	Standing in a lighted space, with one tiny hand enveloped by the captain's great brown fist, she looked so lovely that a general exclamation of surprise went up.
No; they had transcended! They reveled in a new eternal dawn, having left me behind! They had forgotten me, marooned in my sorrow!	No; they were all up! they were all abroad in the new eternal day, and had forgotten me! They had left me behind, and alone!
“George, extend your arm to Miss Swartz,” his father commanded, and they made their way toward the dining table.	"Give your arm to Miss Swartz, George," and they marched.
Familiar landmarks blurred into the encroaching dusk.	Landmarks had vanished into the gathered gloom.
Within the impressive confines of a fourteen-story factory, Mr. Ross's opulent office—resembling a luxurious hotel lobby—stood in stark contrast to Una's modest workspace, which evoked the atmosphere of a baggage handling station, granting her a semblance of tranquility.	His office, which was like a million-dollar hotel lobby, and Una's own den, which was like the baggage-porter's den adjoining the same, were the only spots at Pemberton's where Una felt secure.
On the deck, the crew thrummed with palpable anxiety, their fearful gazes locked onto my approach.	Those on deck had waited for my coming till they grew impatient;
Initially, the door resisted, bound by rusted hinges and swollen timber.	The door resisted my first efforts to swing it inward. Rusted hinges and swollen wood held it tightly closed.
The palpable tension in the room caught Haward off guard.	So sudden and so sinister was the change that Haward was startled.
"Do you truly believe so?"	"You think so?"
In that moment, I felt vibrantly alive and youthful once more.	Yes, I was still a child.
“Speak, diGriz—_speak_!” he urged, urgency threading through his voice.	"Talk, blast you diGriz--_talk_!" he roared.
I longed to reunite with my beloved brigade.	Soon I would be with my beloved brigade again.
"The Monkey People are not to be trifled with," Baloo cautioned. They are completely off-limits to the Jungle People.	"The Monkey-People are forbidden," said Baloo, "forbidden to the Jungle-People.
Harkaman was ready to elaborate further when he caught sight of a battalion of Sesar Karvall’s guards rushing past.	Harkaman would have said more, but at that moment he saw half a dozen of Sesar Karvall's uniformed guardsmen run past.
"Who told you that?" Ahab bellowed, then paused to reflect. "Aye, Starbuck; aye, my loyal companions, it was Moby Dick that left me dismasted; Moby Dick that reduced me to a mere stump! Aye, aye!" he cried out, a wrenching, primal sob escaping him, reverberating with the ache of a heart devastated by loss; "Aye, aye! T...	"Who told thee that?" cried Ahab; then pausing, "Aye, Starbuck; aye, my hearties all round; it was Moby Dick that dismasted me; Moby Dick that brought me to this dead stump I stand on now. Aye, aye," he shouted with a terrific, loud, animal sob, like that of a heart-stricken moose; "Aye, aye! it was that accursed white...
With a grease-smeared grin, he added, “It’s a noble act to show kindness to those less fortunate.”	With an oily smirk: “It is well to be kind to the poor.”
“Oh, Fabian!” she finally managed, fear tinging her voice.	"Oh, Fabian!" she screamed at last.
As he scrutinized his thin, pinched nose, it seemed so frail it barely anchored his face.	And the little pinched nose of his; so thin was it that it looked half starved.
They felt as far removed from us as a flock of distant birds.	It seemed to have no more to do with us than a flight of birds.
A sheet of bark was expertly cut into sections—one portion divided into smaller squares for plates.	The sheet of bark had been cut into sections--one sub-divided into small squares to serve as plates.
She, seemingly unaware of my presence, held my gaze just a moment longer than decency would permit, her surprise unmistakable.	On her side, as she had not known there was anyone so near, she looked at me a little longer, and perhaps with more surprise, than was entirely civil.
He lay there, motionless, breaths shallow, lips twitching as spasms coursed through his frail body.	He was senseless, and breathing heavily, but his lips were quivering, and every now and again a little shudder ran down his frame.
"But I am fortunate to inhabit it—a privilege many collectors seldom claim.	Only I live right in it, which most collectors don't.
He had ridden the newly acquired mare to Monkshaven, planning to leave her at the smithy for a check-up and new shoes come morning.	He had ridden the new mare into Monkshaven, and left her at the smithy there until morning, to have her feet looked at, and to be new shod.
“And what is that?” Bunsby inquired. “Shanghai.”	“And that is—” “Shanghai.”
The stranger's hands hung loosely on his knees, and his swollen, red-rimmed eyes brimmed with unspilled tears, mirroring the profound despair etched into the wearied lines of his face.	The hands of this man hung limply over his knees, his eyes were red and staring before him, and his face was wet with tears.

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deslop-sentence

deslop-sentence is a parallel text dataset designed to teach pruning LLM slop. Each pair maps a "sloppified" sentence to a human-written equivalent. This was used to train flan-t5-deslopV4-onnx

Curation Process

N8Programs/unslop-good was used as a starting point.
The slop-paragraph and human-paragraph pairs were split into aligned sentence-pairs.
Sentence-pairs were filtered via heuristics (syntactic tree depth, embedding similarity) to exclude pairs where the human-sentence was more convoluted than the slop-sentence (archaic/Victorian prose).
Sentence-pairs were filtered by the kinds of transformation that occurred from slop-to-human, so that we only retained pairs that were subtractive, non-destructive edits.

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alac/flan-t5-deslopV4-onnx

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