Wise, witty, and tender sayings, in prose and verse, selected from the works of George Eliot, by A. Main1880 |
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Wise, Witty, and Tender Sayings, in Prose and Verse, Selected from the Works ... Mary Ann Evans Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2015 |
Wise, Witty, and Tender Sayings, in Prose and Verse, Selected from the Works ... Mary Ann Evans Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2018 |
Загальні терміни та фрази
ADAM BEDE Æschylus beauty Bede begin believe better blessing breath Celia comes consciousness DANIEL DERONDA dark dear deeds divine Dorothea earth egoism Eliot in propria eyes face faith father feel FELIX HOLT felt folks fool George Eliot give hand happy hard hear heart heaven hope human keep labour ladies Ladislaw light Lingon lives look man's marriage mean memory men's Middlemarch mighty mind Miss Brooke moral Mumps mysen nature neighbours ness never once one's opinion pain passion perhaps pity poor present pretty propria persona Romola round Savonarola SCENES OF CLERICAL seems sense SILAS MARNER sorrow sort soul SPANISH GYPSY spirit strong sure sweet talk tell tender THEOPHRASTUS there's things thought tion Transome truth turn vision voice woman women wonder words wrong young
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 23 - there is more joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, than over ninety and nine just persons that need no repentance.
Сторінка 109 - We could never have loved the earth so well if we had had no childhood in it, - if it were not the earth where the same flowers come up again every spring that we used to gather with our tiny fingers as we sat lisping to ourselves on the grass; the same hips and haws on the autumn's hedgerows; the same redbreasts that we used to call "God's birds," because they did no harm to the precious crops.
Сторінка 155 - In old days there were angels who came and took men by the hand and led them away from the city of destruction. We see no white-winged angels now. But yet men are led away from threatening destruction: a hand is put into theirs, which leads, them forth gently toward a calm and bright land, so that they look no more backward; and the hand may be a little child's.
Сторінка 65 - Look there, now! I can't abide to see men throw away their tools i' that way, the minute the clock begins to strike, as if they took no pleasure i' their work, and was afraid o
Сторінка 216 - And you are flying from your debts: the debt of a Florentine woman ; the debt of a wife. You are turning your back on the lot that has been appointed for you — you are going to choose another. But can man or woman choose duties ? No more than they can choose their birthplace or their father and mother. My daughter, you are fleeing from the presence of God into the wilderness.
Сторінка 41 - Falsehood is so easy, truth so difficult. The pencil is conscious of a delightful facility in drawing a griffin — the longer the claws, and the larger the wings, the better • but that marvellous facility, which we mistook for genius, is apt to forsake us when we want to draw a real unexaggerated lion.
Сторінка 371 - A human life, I think, should be well rooted in some spot of a native land, where it may get the love of tender kinship for the face of earth, for the labours men go forth to, for the sounds and accents that haunt it, for whatever will give that early home a familiar unmistakable difference amidst the future widening of knowledge...
Сторінка 145 - ... birch at one end and the alphabet at th' other. But I should like Tom to be a bit of a scholard, so as he might be up to the tricks o' these fellows as talk fine and write with a flourish.
Сторінка 388 - Men can do nothing without the make-believe of a beginning. Even Science, the strict measurer, is obliged to start with a make-believe unit, and must fix on a point in the stars' unceasing journey when his sidereal clock shall pretend that time is at Nought.
Сторінка 355 - I shall make you learn my favourite bit from an old poet, — ' Why should our pride make such a stir to be And be forgot ? What good is like to this, To do worthy the writing, and to write Worthy the reading and the world's delight ?' What I want, Rosy, is to do worthy the writing, and to write out myself what I have done. A man must work to do that, my pet.