On Contemporary LiteratureHolt, 1917 - 312 páginas |
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Página 299 - This is the excellent foppery of the world ! that, when we are sick in fortune — often the surfeit of our own behaviour — we make guilty of our disasters, the sun, the moon, and the stars : as if we were villains by necessity ; fools, by heavenly compulsion ; knaves, thieves, and treachers by spherical predominance ; drunkards, liars, and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of planetary influence ; and all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting on/ An admirable evasion of whoremaster mau,...
Página 277 - Under yonder beech-tree single on the green-sward, Couched with her arms behind her golden head, Knees and tresses folded to slip and ripple idly, Lies my young love sleeping in the shade.
Página 299 - Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to heaven : the fated sky Gives us free scope; only, doth backward pull Our slow designs, when we ourselves are dull.
Página 167 - I'll not hurt thee," says my Uncle Toby, rising from his chair, and going across the room with the fly in his hand. " I'll not hurt a hair of thy head. Go," says he, liftin<* up the sash, and opening his hand as he spoke to let it escape.
Página 299 - Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world, Like a Colossus ; and we petty men Walk under his huge legs, and peep about To find ourselves dishonourable graves. Men at some time are masters of their fates : The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
Página 299 - tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are our gardens, to the which our wills are gardeners ; so that if we will plant nettles or sow lettuce, set hyssop and weed up thyme, supply it with one gender of herbs or distract it with many, either to have it sterile with idleness or manured with industry, why, the power and corrigible authority of this lies in our wills.
Página 277 - When her mother tends her before the laughing mirror, Tying up her laces, looping up her hair, Often she thinks, were this wild thing wedded, More love should^ I have, and much less care.
Página 234 - ... without which I wouldn't have given a straw for the whole job. It's the finest, fullest intention of the lot, and the application of it has been, I think, a triumph of patience, of ingenuity. I ought to leave that to somebody else to say; but that nobody does say it is precisely what we're talking about. It stretches, this little trick of mine, from book to book, and everything else, comparatively, plays over the surface of it. The order, the form, the texture of my books will perhaps some day...
Página 253 - ... she had been able to give herself from the first so little to the vulgar heat of her wrong. She might fairly, as she watched them, have missed it as a lost thing ; have yearned for it, for the straight vindictive view, the rights of resentment, the rages of jealousy, the protests of passion...
Página 295 - Muses' anvil, turn the same (And himself with it) that he thinks to frame, Or for the laurel he may gain a scorn, For a good poet's made as well as born; And such wert thou. Look how the father's face Lives in his issue; even so, the race Of Shakespeare's...