Sandra Belloni, Volume 4

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Chapman and Hall, 1889 - 462 pages
 

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Page 151 - s not quite a likeness, for my German is not a brute. I have seen his picture in shop-windows : the wind seemed in his hair, and he seemed to hear with his eyes: his forehead frowning so.
Page 50 - And more than this : our language is not rich in subtleties for prose. A writer who is not servile and has insight, must coin from his own mint. In poetry we are rich enough ; but in prose also we owe everything to the license our poets have taken in the teeth of critics.
Page 368 - ... as is a distinct pause in any business, here and there. He points proudly to the fact that our people in this comedy move themselves, — are moved from their own impulsion, — and. that no arbitrary hand has posted them to bring about any event and heap the catastrophe. In vain I tell him that he is meantime making tatters of the puppets' golden robe — illusion : that he is sucking the blood of their warm humanity out of them.
Page 87 - Wilfrid was a gallant fellow, with good stuff in him. But, he was young. Ponder on that pregnant word, for you are about to see him grow. He was less a coxcomb than shamefaced and sentimental ; and one may have these qualities, and be a coxcomb to boot, and yet be a gallant fellow. One may also be a gallant fellow, and harsh, exacting, double-dealing, and I know not what besides, in youth. The question asked by nature is, "Has he the heart to take and keep an impression...
Page 165 - Man is the laughing animal; and at the end of an infinite search, the philosopher finds himself clinging to laughter as the best of human fruit, purely human, and sane, and comforting.
Page 155 - for ever,'" he murmured; and Emilia's fingers pressed upon his. Of marriage there was no further word. Her heart was evidently quite at ease; and that it should be so without chaining him to a date, was Wilfrid's peculiar desire. He could pledge himself to eternity, but shrank from being bound to eleven o'clock on the morrow morning.
Page 401 - Philosopher, repeat at the same time that souls harmonious to Nature, of whom there are few, do not mount this animal. Those who have true passion are not at the mercy of Hippogriff — otherwise Sur-excited Sentiment. You will mark in them constantly a reverence for the laws of their being, and a natural obedience to common sense.
Page 355 - My duty to my father,' being cited by Cornelia, Sir Purcell had to contend with it. 'True love excludes no natural duty,' she said. And he: 'Love discerns unerringly what is and what is not duty.' 'In the case of a father, can there be any doubt?' she asked, the answer shining in her confident aspect. 'There are many things that fathers may demand of us ! ' he interjected bitterly. She had a fatal glimpse here of the false light in which his resentment coloured the relations between...
Page 81 - What is it you say?" Wilfrid whispered : '"Men kiss us when we are happy. ' Is that right? and are you happy ? " She lifted a clear full face, to which he bent his mouth. Over the flowering hawthorn the moon stood like a windblown white rose of the heavens. The kiss was given and taken. Strange to tell, it was he who drew away from it almost bashfully, and with new feelings. Quite unaware that he played the feminine part, Wilfrid alluded to her flight from...
Page 450 - A SHARP breath of air had passed along the dews, and all the young green of the fresh season shone in white jewels. The sky, set •with very dim distant stars, was in grey light round a small brilliant moon. Every space of earth lifted clear to her; the woodland listened; and in the bright silence the nightingales sang loud.

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