Memoir of Nathaniel Hawthorne: With Stories Now First Published in this CountryHenry S. King & Company, 1872 - 301 стор. |
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ancient April fool beautiful better Blithedale Blithedale Romance Boston Brook Farm canal Captain Phipps Carbuncle character circumstances coal cottage cried Crown 8vo dark Dickon door doubt England English eyes fancy Faun Feathertop figure forest George William Curtis gold Goodman Duston Gookin hand Hawthorne Hawthorne's head heart Horatio Bridge human idea imagination impression Indian interest King light literary live look ment mind Mother Rigby Mount Washington mountain NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE nature ness never Note-books observed Old Manse old witch once passed perhaps person Pierce pipe poor Praxiteles Puff Puritan Rigby's romance Salem scarecrow Scarlet Letter Sebago Lake seemed shadow Sir William Phipps sketch smile smoke solitude soul spirit stood story strange sunshine sympathy thee things thou thought tion told took touch treasure tree Virtuoso whiff whole witchcraft words writes young youth
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Сторінка 21 - Indeed, we are but shadows; we are not endowed with real life, and all that seems most real about us is but the thinnest substance of a dream — till the heart be touched. That touch creates us — then we begin to be — thereby we are beings of reality and inheritors of eternity.
Сторінка 29 - The real Me was never an associate of the community ; there has been a spectral Appearance there, sounding the horn at daybreak, and milking the cows, and hoeing potatoes, and raking hay, toiling in the sun, and doing me the honor to assume my name. But this spectre was not myself.
Сторінка 100 - There is something preternatural in my reluctance to begin. I linger at the threshold, and have a perception of very disagreeable phantasms to be encountered if I enter. I wish God had given me the faculty of writing a sunshiny book.
Сторінка 36 - There were various men and women of note assembled, and I, who listened attentively to all the fine things that were said, was for some time scarcely aware of a man who sat upon the edge of the circle, a little withdrawn, his head slightly thrown forward upon his breast, and his bright eyes clearly burning under his black brow.
Сторінка 91 - I think, is it a love of secrecy and darkness. I am glad to think that God sees through my heart; and if any angel has power to penetrate into it, he is welcome to know everything that is there. Yes; and so may any mortal, who is capable of full sympathy, and therefore worthy to come into my depths.
Сторінка 283 - Boston, and soon afterwards was married to a widow lady, who had property enough to set him up in business. It was not long, however, before he lost all the money that he had acquired by his marriage and became a poor man again. Still he was not discouraged. He often told his wife that, some time or other, he should be very rich, and would build a " fair brick house
Сторінка 28 - ... to live in other lives, and to endeavour — by generous sympathies, by delicate intuitions, by taking note of things too slight for record, and by bringing my human spirit into manifold accordance with the companions whom God assigned me — to learn the secret which was hidden even from themselves.
Сторінка 67 - And as for egotism, a person who has been burrowing to his utmost ability into the depths of our common nature for the purposes of psychological romance — and who pursues his researches in that dusky region, as he needs must, as well by the tact of sympathy as by the light of observation...
Сторінка 40 - I have sought to follow that poor youth through his subsequent career, and observe how his soul was tortured by the blood stain, contracted as it had been before the long custom of war had robbed human life of its sanctity, and while it still seemed murderous to slay a brother man. This one circumstance has borne more fruit for me than all that history tells us of the fight.
Сторінка 46 - Of all things, I should like to find a gravestone in one of these old churchyards with my own name upon it, although, for myself, I should wish to be buried in America. The graves are too horribly damp here.