Works, Volume 1Houghton-Mifflin, 1884 |
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Page 49
... face was so alive and translucent with lovely expressions that it was hard to determine whether or not it were physically lovely ; but I in- cline to think that a mathematical survey would have pronounced her features plain ; only , no ...
... face was so alive and translucent with lovely expressions that it was hard to determine whether or not it were physically lovely ; but I in- cline to think that a mathematical survey would have pronounced her features plain ; only , no ...
Page 52
... face . I gazed at her in terror , feeling scarcely safe , though within four walls and half - way to the sky as it seemed to me . I was convinced that she would have me at last , and that no power could pre- vent it ; but I did not ...
... face . I gazed at her in terror , feeling scarcely safe , though within four walls and half - way to the sky as it seemed to me . I was convinced that she would have me at last , and that no power could pre- vent it ; but I did not ...
Page 58
... face , the finely chiselled profile , so haughty and so delicate . I adored him because he was handsome , though he did not speak to me or seem aware of my presence . When the carriage stopped at a hotel for refreshment and rest , I was ...
... face , the finely chiselled profile , so haughty and so delicate . I adored him because he was handsome , though he did not speak to me or seem aware of my presence . When the carriage stopped at a hotel for refreshment and rest , I was ...
Page 79
... head nearly bald , only a few gray locks lying on his shoulders ; his face was placid as an infant's . He was dressed in primitive style , -small- - - clothes and buckled shoes , — with perfect SOPHIA AMELIA PEABODY . 79.
... head nearly bald , only a few gray locks lying on his shoulders ; his face was placid as an infant's . He was dressed in primitive style , -small- - - clothes and buckled shoes , — with perfect SOPHIA AMELIA PEABODY . 79.
Page 81
... reflection . I have written a long letter to Miss Loring this evening , with the moon all the while in my face . This is revelry ! VOL . I. 6 CHAPTER III . BOYHOOD AND BACHELORHOOD . A CERTAIN mystery SOPHIA AMELIA PEABODY . 81.
... reflection . I have written a long letter to Miss Loring this evening , with the moon all the while in my face . This is revelry ! VOL . I. 6 CHAPTER III . BOYHOOD AND BACHELORHOOD . A CERTAIN mystery SOPHIA AMELIA PEABODY . 81.
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Popular passages
Page 476 - But Ernest turned away, melancholy, and almost despondent: for this was the saddest of his disappointments, to behold a man who might have fulfilled the prophecy, and had not willed to do so. Meantime, the cavalcade, the banners, the music, and the barouches swept past him, with the vociferous crowd in the rear, leaving the dust to settle down, and the Great Stone Face to be revealed again, with the grandeur that it had worn for untold centuries.
Page 404 - Until I was twenty-five, I had no development at all. From my twenty-fifth year I date my life. Three weeks have scarcely passed, at any time between then and now, that I have not unfolded within myself. But I feel that I am now come to the inmost leaf of the bulb, and that shortly the flower must fall to the mould.
Page 27 - First and principally I commit my soul into the hands of Almighty God, and my body to the earth to be decently buried at the discretion of my Executors...
Page 106 - Oh that I was rich enough to live without a profession ! What do you think of my becoming an author, and relying for support upon my pen ? Indeed, I think the illegibility of my handwriting is very author-like.
Page 475 - Confess it," said one of Ernest's neighbors to him, "the Great Stone Face has met its match at last!" Now, it must be owned that, at his first glimpse of the countenance which was bowing and smiling from the barouche, Ernest did fancy that there was a resemblance between it and the old familiar face upon the mountain-side.
Page 123 - I have been glad and hopeful, and here I have been despondent. And here I sat a long, long time, waiting patiently for the world to know me, and sometimes wondering why it did not know me sooner, or whether it would ever know me at all, — at least, till I were in my grave. And sometimes it seemed as if I were already in the grave, with only life enough to be chilled and benumbed. But oftener I was happy, — at least, as happy as I then knew how to be, or was aware of the possibility of being.
Page 401 - What's the use of elaborating what, in its very essence, is so short-lived as a modern book? Though I wrote the Gospels in this century, I should die in the gutter.
Page 400 - The calm, the coolness, the silent grass-growing mood in which a man ought always to compose, — that, I fear, can seldom be mine. Dollars damn me ; and the malicious Devil is forever grinning in upon me, holding the door ajar. My dear Sir, a presentiment is on me, — I shall at last be worn out and perish, like an old nutmeg-grater, grated to pieces by the constant attrition of the wood, that is, the nutmeg. What I feel most moved to write, that is banned, — it will not pay. Yet, altogether,...
Page 475 - ... fog with his mere breath, and obscure the natural daylight with it. His tongue, indeed, was a magic instrument ; sometimes it rumbled like the thunder ; sometimes it warbled like the sweetest music. It was the blast of war, — the song of peace ; and it seemed to have a heart in it, when there was no such matter.
Page 401 - Paradise, in some little shady corner by ourselves, and if we shall by any means be able to smuggle a basket of champagne there (I won't believe in a Temperance Heaven), and if we shall then cross our celestial legs in the celestial grass that is forever tropical, and strike our glasses and our heads together, till both musically ring in concert, — then...