Yet

I haven't finished yet.

Have you finished yet?

We do not yet know what happened.

He has never yet been late for an appointment.

Don't switch it on yet – wait until I've reconnected the pump.

He is yet breathing. (He is still breathing.)

They atteſt facts vvhich they had heard vvhile they vvere yet heathens, and had they not found reaſon to believe them, they vvould ſtill have continued heathens, and have made no mention of them in their vvritings.

The riddle will be solved yet.

He'll be hanged yet.

I’ve yet to see him. — I have not yet seen him.

I had yet to go to a convention. — I had not yet gone to a convention.

They are yet to win a single match. — They have not yet won a single match.

He seemed yet to be convinced. — He seemed not yet to have been convinced.

There are two hours yet to go until our destination.

It was a joy to snatch some brief respite, and find himself in the rectory drawing–room. Listening here was as pleasant as talking; just to watch was pleasant. The young priests who lived here wore cassocks and birettas; their faces were fine and mild, yet really strong, like the rector's face; and in their intercourse with him and his wife they seemed to be brothers.

After yet another missed penalty by Kvirikashvili from bang in front of the posts, England scored again, centre Tuilagi flying into the line and touching down under the bar.

K-2 is yet higher than this.

Oh no! Yet more problems!

Men may not too rashly believe the confessions of witches, nor yet the evidence against them.

I thought I knew you, yet how wrong was I!

It’s incredible yet true.

Nor Court nor Citie had ſhe ſeene, yeat eithers prayſe ſhe had: / So much more vvorth by hovve much leſſe ſhe vvas vn-nicely clad.

Emaciated little creatures, with skin harsh and rough, rapid pulse, nerves ever on the strain—have yet a look of lively intelligence.

Carried somehow, somewhither, for some reason, on these surging floods, were these travelers, of errand not wholly obvious to their fellows, yet of such sort as to call into query alike the nature of their errand and their own relations. It is easily earned repetition to state that Josephine St. Auban's was a presence not to be concealed.

Thus the red damask curtains which now shut out the fog-laden, drizzling atmosphere of the Marylebone Road, had cost a mere song, and yet they might have been warranted to last another thirty years. A great bargain also had been the excellent Axminster carpet which covered the floor;[…].

In America alone, people spent $170 billion on “direct marketing”—junk mail of both the physical and electronic varieties—last year. Yet of those who received unsolicited adverts through the post, only 3% bought anything as a result.

[…] & stablenes of perseueraunce; graunt me for all wor[l]dly consolacyons the swete, gracyous vnccyon of the holy goost, & for all carnall loue

Some with a fals herte, and a payntyd face In his lordes seruyce to haue chefe rowme and place Into his lordes erys yetyth secretly Lyes venemous, […]

[…] whiche shall present him selfe openly stained or embrued with sondry colours, or poudered with the duste of stones that he cutteth, or perfumed with tedious sauours of the metalles by him yoten.