The Galaxy: A Magazine of Entertaining Reading, Том 1Mark Twain W. C. & F. P. Church, 1866 |
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Adela answered Anthony Trollope Archie artist asked beautiful Bettina Burton called charming cholera church color course dance dear door dress English eyes face Fanny father feel felt fish Florence France GALAXY GEORGE ALFRED TOWNSEND Gerald girl give Guert hand happy Harry Clavering head heard heart hour Julia knew Lady Clavering Lady Ongar landscape art letter Levante living London look Lord Ongar Lucia Maggie marriage married mean mind minutes Miss Clare MISS FORRESTER Miss Lovell morning Morteville nature never night once Orleanist papa Park Park Row perhaps person poor Quartier Latin Robert Dennison seemed seen Sir Hugh speak spirit Street sure talk tell Theodore Burton thing thought told took truth Victor Hugo voice walked wife wish woman women words write young
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Сторінка 174 - Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff : you shall seek all day ere you find them, and when you have them, they are not worth the search.
Сторінка 414 - Is in its infancy. The man, whose eye Is ever on himself, doth look on one, The least of nature's works, one who might move The wise man to that scorn which wisdom holds Unlawful, ever.
Сторінка 254 - Si vous croyez que je vais dire Qui j'ose aimer, Je ne saurais, pour un empire, Vous la nommer. Nous allons chanter à la ronde, Si vous voulez, Que je l'adore et qu'elle est blonde Comme les blés. Je fais ce que sa fantaisie Veut m'ordonner, Et je puis, s'il lui faut ma vie, La lui donner. Du mal qu'une amour ignorée Nous fait souffrir, J'en porte l'âme déchirée Jusqu'à mourir.
Сторінка 516 - Tic-tac ! tic-tac ! go the wheels of thought ; our will cannot stop them; they cannot stop themselves; sleep cannot still them; madness only makes them go faster; death alone can break into the case, and, seizing the ever-swinging pendulum, which we call the heart, silence at last the clicking of the terrible escapement we have carried so long beneath our wrinkled foreheads.
Сторінка 516 - I falter where I firmly trod, And falling with my weight of cares Upon the great world's altar-stairs That slope thro' darkness up to God, I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope, And gather dust and chaff, and call To what I feel is Lord of all, And faintly trust the larger hope. LVI. " So careful of the type ?
Сторінка 175 - From women's eyes this doctrine I derive: They sparkle still the right Promethean fire ; They are the books, the arts, the academes, That show, contain, and nourish all the world...
Сторінка 509 - That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man, If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.
Сторінка 421 - You cannot fight against the future. Time is on our side. The great social forces which move onwards in their might and majesty, and which the tumult of our debates does not for a moment impede or disturb...
Сторінка 516 - If we could only get at them, as we lie on our pillows and count the dead beats of thought after thought, and image after image, jarring through the overtired organ ! Will nobody block those wheels, uncouple that pinion, cut the string that holds those weights, blow up the infernal machine with gun-powder...
Сторінка 421 - ... carry in this fight, though perhaps at some moment it may droop over our sinking heads, yet it soon again will float in the eye of Heaven, and it will be borne by the firm hands of the united people of the three kingdoms, perhaps not to an easy, but to a certain and to a not far distant victory.