De Quincey's Writings: Narrative and miscellaneous papers. 1853

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Ticknor, Reed, and Fields, 1853
 

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Page 145 - The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave. Await alike the' inevitable hour: The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Page 152 - My shaping spirit of Imagination. For not to think of what I needs must feel, But to be still and patient, all I can; And haply by abstruse research to steal From my own nature all the natural man — This was my sole resource, my only plan : Till that which suits a part infects the whole, And now is almost grown the habit of my soul.
Page 79 - Je me dis : Je m'en vais jeter cette pierre contre l'arbre qui est vis-à-vis' de moi : si je le touche, signe de salut; si je le manque , signe de damnation. Tout en disant ainsi je jette ma pierre d'une main tremblante et avec un horrible battement de cœur , mais si heureusement , qu'elle va frapper au beau milieu de l'arbre ; ce qui véritablement n'était pas difficile, car j'avais eu soin de le choisir fort gros et fort près. Depuis lors je n'ai plus douté de mon salut.
Page 209 - God's most dreaded instrument In working out a pure intent Is man arrayed for mutual slaughter, Yea, Carnage is his daughter!
Page 190 - The most remarkable instance of a combined movement in society which history, perhaps, will be summoned to notice, is that which, in our day, has applied itself to the abatement of intemperance. Two vast movements are hurrying into action by velocities continually accelerated, — the great revolutionary movement from political causes concurring with the great physical movement in locomotion and social intercourse from the gigantic power of steam. At the opening of such a crisis, had no third movement...
Page 42 - Angel, I will go no farther. For the spirit of man aches with this infinity. Insufferable is the glory of God. Let me lie down in the grave from the persecutions of the infinite; for end, I see, there is none.
Page 41 - ... by spans — that seemed ghostly from infinitude. Without measure were the architraves, past number were the archways, beyond memory the gates. Within were stairs that scaled the eternities below ! Above was below, below was above, to the man stripped of gravitating body ; depth was swallowed up in height insurmountable, height was swallowed up in depth unfathomable. Suddenly, as thus they rode from infinite to infinite, suddenly, as thus they tilted over...
Page 80 - ... eu soin de le choisir fort gros et fort près. Depuis lors je n'ai plus douté de mon salut. Je ne sais, en me rappelant ce trait, si je dois rire ou gémir sur moimême.
Page 20 - With scent of living carcasses design'd For death, the following day, in bloody fight : So scented the grim feature, and upturn'd His nostril wide into the murky air, Sagacious of his quarry from so far.
Page 40 - God called up from dreams a man into the vestibule of heaven, saying, — "Come thou hither, and see the glory of my house." And to the servants that stood around his throne he said, — "Take him, and undress him from his robes of flesh : cleanse his vision, and put a new breath into his nostrils : only touch not with any change his human heart — the heart that weeps and trembles.

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