Works, Volume 1Houghton-Mifflin, 1884 |
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Page 6
... sisters to escape froin the pensive gloom of his mother's mode of existence into the daylight and breeze of common life . Her solitary habits , however , affected and stimulated his imagination , which was further nourished by the tales ...
... sisters to escape froin the pensive gloom of his mother's mode of existence into the daylight and breeze of common life . Her solitary habits , however , affected and stimulated his imagination , which was further nourished by the tales ...
Page 8
... sister . Mrs. Forrester likes to talk of the ancestral glories of the Hawthorne family . Several years ago she brought a copy of our coat - of - arms , drawn by one of her daughters . She had made re- searches in heraldry , but she ...
... sister . Mrs. Forrester likes to talk of the ancestral glories of the Hawthorne family . Several years ago she brought a copy of our coat - of - arms , drawn by one of her daughters . She had made re- searches in heraldry , but she ...
Page 38
... sister - in - law of Nathaniel Hawthorne , writes of them that they " were unsocial in their tem- per , and the family ran down in the course of the two centuries , in fortune and manners and culture . But Mr. Hathorne of Herbert Street ...
... sister - in - law of Nathaniel Hawthorne , writes of them that they " were unsocial in their tem- per , and the family ran down in the course of the two centuries , in fortune and manners and culture . But Mr. Hathorne of Herbert Street ...
Page 50
... sister Lizzie of biting her finger tips while read- ing or studying . It seems that various expedients had been tried to break the young student of this habit ; among others , that of obliging her to wear gloves but her preoccupation ...
... sister Lizzie of biting her finger tips while read- ing or studying . It seems that various expedients had been tried to break the young student of this habit ; among others , that of obliging her to wear gloves but her preoccupation ...
Page 54
... sisters , who were unkind and tyrannical to such a degree that she seemed quite angelic in comparison with them . My uncle George was my mamma's beloved brother , and radiant with . benevolence and all the gracious amenities . I did not ...
... sisters , who were unkind and tyrannical to such a degree that she seemed quite angelic in comparison with them . My uncle George was my mamma's beloved brother , and radiant with . benevolence and all the gracious amenities . I did not ...
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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...