The Works of Laurence Sterne ...

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W. Strahan, J. Rivington and Sons, J. Dodsley, G. Kearsley, T. Lowndes, G. Robinson, 1780
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Page 222 - ... mere pomp of words! but that I feel some generous joys and generous cares beyond myself all comes from thee, great great SENSORIUM of the world! which vibrates, if a hair of our heads but falls upon the ground, in the remotest desert of thy creation...
Page 7 - Truth might lie between He was certainly sixty-five; and the general air of his countenance, notwithstanding something seemed to have been planting wrinkles in it before their time, agreed to the account. It was one of those heads, which Guido has often painted mild, pale penetrating, free from all commonplace ideas of fat contented ignorance looking downwards upon the earth it looked forwards; but looked, as if it looked at something beyond this world.
Page 215 - When we had got within half a league of Moulines, at a little opening in the road leading to a thicket, I discovered poor Maria sitting under a poplar; — she was sitting with her elbow in her lap, and her head leaning on one side within her hand. A small brook ran at the foot of the tree.
Page 51 - I pity the man who can travel from Dan. to Beersheba, and cry, 'Tis all barren and so it is; and so is all the world to him, who will not cultivate the fruits it offers.
Page 134 - Make the most of it you can, said I to myself, the Bastile is but another word for a tower ;— and a tower is but another word for a house you can't get out of. — Mercy on the gouty ! for they are in it twice a year. — But with nine livres a day, and pen and ink and paper and patience, albeit a man can't get out, he may do very well within...
Page 135 - As I darkened the little light he had, he lifted up a hopeless eye towards the door, then cast it down, shook his head, and went on with his work of affliction.
Page 135 - ... there. He had one of these little sticks in his hand, and with a rusty nail he was etching another day of misery to add to the heap. As I darkened the little light he had, he lifted up a hopeless eye towards the door, then cast it down, shook his head, and went on with his work of affliction. I heard his chains upon his legs as he turned his body to lay his little stick upon the bundle. He gave a deep sigh : I saw the iron enter into his soul. I burst into tears — I could not sustain the picture...
Page 77 - I'm sure thou hast been a merciful master to him. Alas! said the mourner, I thought so when he was alive ; but now that he is dead, I think otherwise. I fear the weight of myself and my afflictions together, have been too much for him, they have shortened the poor creature's days, and I fear I have them to answer for.
Page 76 - The mourner said, he did not want it it was not the value of the ass but the loss of him The ass, he said, he was assured loved him...
Page 216 - Sylvio, said she. I looked in Maria's eyes, and saw she was thinking more of her father than of her lover or her little goat ; for as she uttered them the tears trickled down

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