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Page 171 - Why, in every respect that the African departed from the Caucasian, he departed in the direction of the ape! Here was zoology mutely but eloquently telling us why there had blossomed no Confucius, no Moses, no Napoleon, upon that black stem; why no Iliad, no Parthenon, no Sistine Madonna, had ever risen from that tropic mud.
Page 9 - I came to sojourn in the most appealing, the most lovely, the most wistful town in America ; whose visible sadness and distinction seem also to speak audibly, speak in the sound of the quiet waves that ripple round her Southern front, speak in the church-bells on Sunday morning, and breathe not only in the soft salt air, but in the perfume of every gentle, oldfashioned rose that blooms behind the high garden walls of falling mellow-tinted plaster : Kings Port the retrospective, Kings Port the belated,...
Page 49 - Port, this little city of oblivion, held, shut in with its lavender and pressedrose memories, a handful of people who were like that great society of the world, the high society of distinguished men and women who exist no more, but who touched history with a light hand, and left their mark upon it in a host of memoirs and letters that we read to-day with a starved and homesick longing in the midst of our sullen welter of democracy.
Page 404 - ... never quite were — but it is very delightful reading for all that."— New York Times. YOLANDA MAID OF BURGUNDY By CHARLES MAJOR Author of " Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall," " When Knighthood was in Flower,
Page 403 - There is not a page in Mr. Wister's new book which is not interesting. This is its first great merit, that it arouses the sympathy of the reader and holds him absorbed and amused to the end. It does a great deal more for him. . . . Whoever reads the first page will find it next to impossible to put the book down until he has read every one of the five hundred and four in the book, and then he will wish there were more of them.
Page 65 - It's all gone, all done, all over. You have to be a small, well-knit country for that sort of exquisite personal unitedness. There's nothing united about these States any more, except Standard Oil and discontent. We're no longer a small people living and dying for a great idea ; we're a big people living and dying for money.
Page 175 - Port (and I had now come within this limited domain) holds narrow lanes and recesses which teem and swarm with negroes. As cracks will run through fine porcelain, so do these black rifts of Africa lurk almost invisible among the gardens and the houses. The picture that these places offered, tropic, squalid, and fecund, often caused me to walk through them and watch the basking population; the intricate, broken wooden galleries, the rickety outside staircases, the red and yellow splashes of color...
Page 66 - Such quiet faces are gone now in the breathless, competing North: ground into oblivion between the clashing trades of the competing men and the clashing jewels and chandeliers of their competing wives — while yours have lingered on, spared by your very adversity.
Page 171 - South Carolina nigger." His display won the admission, "Why, in every respect that the African departed from the Caucasian, he departed in the direction of the ape!" The Teuton's diatribe ended with "They will get better results in civilization by giving votes to monkeys than teaching Henry Wadsworth Longfellow to niggers.
Page 393 - I'll read it, my lady — here it is," replied Annette, and read as follows:— " Then shall the priest say unto the woman, 'N, wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband, to live together, after God's ordinance, in the holy state of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him. serve him, love, honour, and keep him, in sickness and in health, and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?