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answer asked Blackwater Park bread brother called Cardinal Catherick Ceylon CHARLES DICKENS Cherbourg Church Circassian colour dead dear Defarge dervishes door dream dress English Eye-witness eyes face Fairlie's father feel Fosco French gentleman give Glyde hand Hartright head hear heard heart honour horse hour human hundred kind lady Laura leave letter Limmeridge live London looked Lord Madame Madame Defarge manner marriage matter ment mind Miss Fairlie Miss Haleombe morning never night once Orsini passed person poor Pope pounds prison Rome rotifers round seemed seen side Sir Percival Sir Percival's Sir Robert Carden sister speak strange streets tell thing thought thousand tion told Turk Turkish turned Vittoria walked Whitstable wife woman woman in white words young
Page 93 - Guillotine. And yet there is not in France, with its rich variety of soil and climate, a blade, a leaf, a root, a sprig, a peppercorn, which will grow to maturity under conditions more certain than those that have produced this horror. Crush humanity out of shape once more, under similar hammers, and it will twist itself into the same tortured forms.
Page 95 - ... the lives for which I lay down my life, peaceful, useful, prosperous and happy, in that England which I shall see no more. I see Her with a child upon her bosom, who bears my name. I see her father, aged and bent, but otherwise restored, and faithful to all men in his healing office, and at peace. I see the good old man, so long their friend, in ten years' time enriching them with all he has, and passing tranquilly to his reward.
Page 95 - It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done . . ." tears of love filled my eyes at my selflessness.
Page 207 - He no more thought, God forgive him ! that the admired original would ever be charged with the imaginary vices of the fictitious creature, than he has himself ever thought of charging the blood of Desdemona and Othello on the innocent Academy model who sat for lago's leg in the picture.
Page 118 - She left the window — and I said to myself, The lady is dark. She moved forward a few steps — and I said to myself, The lady is young. She approached nearer — and I said to myself (with a sense of surprise which words fail me to express), The lady is ugly!
Page 385 - He flatters my vanity, by talking to me as seriously and sensibly as if I was a man. Yes ! I can find him out when I am away from him ; I know he flatters my vanity, when I think of him up here, in my own room — and yet, when I go...
Page 95 - I see that I hold a sanctuary in their hearts, and in the hearts of their descendants, generations hence. I see her, an old woman, weeping for me on the anniversary of this day. I see her and her husband, their course done, lying side by side in their last earthly bed, and I know that each was not more honoured and held sacred in the other's soul, than I was in the souls of both.
Page 118 - ... woman alive is beauty incomplete. To see such a face as this set on shoulders that a sculptor would have longed to model— to be charmed by the modest graces of action through which the symmetrical limbs betrayed their beauty when they moved, and then to be almost repelled by the masculine form and masculine look of the features in which the perfectly shaped figure...
Page 321 - I am both a town traveller and a country traveller, and am always on the road. Figuratively speaking, I travel for the great house of Human Interest Brothers, and have rather a large connection in the fancy goods way. Literally speaking, I am always wandering here and there from my rooms in Covent-garden, London — now about the city streets : now, about the country by-roads — seeing many little things, and some great things, which, because they interest me, I think may interest others.
Page 124 - splendid charge' has done its work and passed by, there will be found a sight very much like the scene of a frightful railway accident. There will be the full complement of backs broken in two, of arms twisted wholly off, of men impaled upon their own bayonets, of legs smashed up like bits of firewood, of heads sliced open like apples, of other heads crunched into soft jelly by iron hoofs of horses, of faces trampled out of all likeness to anything human. That is what skulks behind a 'splendid charge...