Works, Volume 1Houghton-Mifflin, 1884 |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 44
Page 4
... knew him , and whose private moral life was as free from degrada- tion as his writings are , there is no reason to doubt that he inherited , or at all events possessed in him- self , a full share of the faults and foibles of mankind ...
... knew him , and whose private moral life was as free from degrada- tion as his writings are , there is no reason to doubt that he inherited , or at all events possessed in him- self , a full share of the faults and foibles of mankind ...
Page 11
... knew anything about it . He said he thought it possible I might have paid some attention to my ancestry , and told me that this old Major , with about a dozen others , whose names he mentioned , used to go by turns to Manchester to ...
... knew anything about it . He said he thought it possible I might have paid some attention to my ancestry , and told me that this old Major , with about a dozen others , whose names he mentioned , used to go by turns to Manchester to ...
Page 31
... knew beforehand what the communication was going to be , but that , if she fixed her attention upon what was going forward , she could generally tell each word just before it was written down . The names which were signed to the ...
... knew beforehand what the communication was going to be , but that , if she fixed her attention upon what was going forward , she could generally tell each word just before it was written down . The names which were signed to the ...
Page 38
... knew your father , who told me he never knew personally any of the name . You alone bear up the name , I think . " - This Hathorne of Herbert Street was probably Nathaniel Hawthorne's uncle Daniel , the second son of that name born to ...
... knew your father , who told me he never knew personally any of the name . You alone bear up the name , I think . " - This Hathorne of Herbert Street was probably Nathaniel Hawthorne's uncle Daniel , the second son of that name born to ...
Page 42
... knew how great was his debt to her . When I said that the life of Hawthorne could not be understood apart from that of his wife , I might have added that without her assistance it could not have been written . In fact , the almost ...
... knew how great was his debt to her . When I said that the life of Hawthorne could not be understood apart from that of his wife , I might have added that without her assistance it could not have been written . In fact , the almost ...
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
admiration affectionate appear beautiful Berkshire bless Blithedale Blithedale Romance Boston brother character child Chimæra clouds Concord DEAR HAWTHORNE dearest delight door doubt Elizabeth Elizabeth Hawthorne Emerson England eyes father feel flowers friends give glad hand happy Hawthorne's hear heart Herman Melville honor hope human husband imagination John Hathorne Julian knew lady literary live look Louisa magazine Margaret Fuller marriage married Mary Melville mind Miss Miss Elizabeth moral morning mother Mozier Nathaniel Hawthorne nature never Old Manse Peabody perhaps persons Pierce Romance Salem Scarlet Letter seems sent Seven Gables sister smile soon Sophia Sophia Peabody soul spirit stand story summer sunshine suppose talk tell tender things thorne thorne's thought tion told truth Twice-Told Tales Una's walk week West Newton wife wish write written wrote yesterday young
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...