Far Away and Long Ago: A History of My Early Life

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E.P. Dutton, 1918 - Argentina - 332 pages
 

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Page 11 - their seemingly unsuitable ways and appetites to the right cause, and not to a hypothetical perversity or inherent depravity of heart, about which many authors will have spoken to her in many books: But though they wrote it all by rote They did not write it right.
Page 224 - man's child, if it be admitted that he has it at all, is but a faint survival of a phase of the primitive mind. And by animism I do not mean the theory of a soul in nature, but the tendency or impulse or instinct, in which all myth originates, to animate all things; the projection of
Page 214 - somewhat later, I met with an adventure which produced another and a new feeling in me, that sense of something supernatural in the serpent which appears to have been universal among peoples in a primitive state of culture and still survives in some barbarous or semi-barbarous countries,
Page 332 - with Nature did not pass away, leaving nothing but a recollection of vanished happiness to intensify a present pain The happiness was never lost, but owing to that faculty I have spoken of, had a cumulative effect on the mind and was mine again, so that in my worst times, when I was compelled to exist shut out from
Page 225 - into nature; the sense and apprehension of an intelligence like our own but more powerful in all visible things. It persists' and lives in many of us, I imagine, more than we
Page 332 - in London for long periods, sick and poor and friendless, I could yet always feel that it was infinitely better to be than not to be. THE END
Page 17 - looked at and at every person that approached me—ceased to be visibly trailed at about that age; I only remember myself as a common little boy—just a little wild animal running about on its hind legs, amazingly interested in the world in which it found itself. Here, then, I begin, aged five, at an early hour on a bright, cold morning in June—midwinter in that
Page 82 - Then, as to the vulture, it was not a true vulture nor a strictly true eagle, but a carrion-hawk, a bird the size of a small eagle, blackish brown in
Page 209 - distant land with a nameless lover. "I've heard of a sort of fear you have in that dilemma, lest you should lay your fingers on edges of sharp knives, and if I think a step—if I go thinking a step, and feel my way, I do cut myself, and I bleed, I do." Only in a comparatively snakeless country could such fancies be born and such metaphors used—snakeless and highly

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