Thomas Carlyle: A History of the First Forty Years of Life, 1795-1835, Том 1

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C. Scribner's Sons, 1882 - 298 стор.
 

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Сторінка 27 - Seek the Lord while He may be found, call upon Him while He is near. Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; let him return to the Lord, and He will have mercy on him; and to our God, for He will abundantly pardon.
Сторінка 245 - BONO. What is Hope ? A smiling rainbow Children follow through the wet ; 'Tis not here, still yonder, yonder : Never urchin found it yet. What is Life ? A thawing iceboard On a sea with sunny shore ; — Gay we sail ; it melts beneath us ; We are sunk, and seen no more. What is Man? A foolish baby, Vainly strives, and fights, and frets ; Demanding all, deserving nothing ; — One small grave is what he gets.
Сторінка 61 - What art thou afraid of ? Wherefore, like a coward, dost thou forever pip and whimper, and go cowering and trembling? Despicable biped ! what is the sum-total of the worst that lies before thee? Death? Well, Death; and say the pangs of Tophet too, and all that the Devil and Man may, will or can do against thee ! Hast thou not a heart ; canst...
Сторінка 59 - A certain inarticulate Self-consciousness dwells dimly in us ; which only our Works can render articulate and decisively discernible. Our Works are the mirror wherein the spirit first sees its natural lineaments. Hence, too, the folly of that impossible Precept, Know thyself ; till it be translated into this partially possible one, Know what thou canst work at.
Сторінка 61 - Well, death ; and say the pangs of Tophet too, and all that the devil and man may, will, or can do against thee ! Hast thou not a heart ? canst thou not suffer whatsoever it be ; and as a child of freedom, though outcast, trample Tophet itself under thy feet, while it consumes thee ? Let it come, then, and I will meet it and defy it.
Сторінка 170 - I'd give to know why here thou lik'st so well To build thy nest. For thou hast passed fair places in thy flight ; A world lay all beneath thee where to light; And, strange thy taste, Of all the varied scenes that met thine eye, Of all the spots for building 'neath the sky, To choose this waste! Did fortune try thee? — was thy little purse Perchance run low, and thou, afraid of worse, Felt here secure?
Сторінка 60 - So had it lasted," concludes the Wanderer, "so had it lasted, as in bitter protracted Death-agony, through long years. The heart within me, unvisited by any heavenly dewdrop, was smouldering in sulphurous, slow-consuming fire. Almost since earliest memory I had shed no tear; or once only when I, murmuring half-audibly, recited Faust's Deathsong, that wild Selig der den er im...
Сторінка vii - Various persons, name and surname, have 'received pain:' nay the very Hero of the Biography is rendered unheroic ; unornamental facts of him, and of those he had to do with, being set forth in plain English: hence 'personality...
Сторінка 48 - explain" all, "account" for all, or believe nothing of it? Nay, thou wilt attempt laughter; whoso recognises the unfathomable, all-pervading domain of Mystery, which is everywhere under our feet and among our hands; to whom the Universe is an Oracle and Temple, as well as a Kitchen and Cattlestall...
Сторінка 210 - Carlyle's fault that we talked on that topic, for he has the natural disinclination of every nimble spirit to bruise itself against walls, and did not like to place himself where no step can be taken. But he was honest and true, and cognizant of the subtile links that bind ages together, and saw how every event affects all the future. ' Christ died on the tree : that built Dunscore kirk yonder : that brought you and me together. Time has only a relative existence.

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