The New Monthly Magazine, Količina 98

Sprednja platnica
Thomas Campbell, Samuel Carter Hall, Edward Bulwer Lytton Baron Lytton, Theodore Edward Hook, Thomas Hood, William Harrison Ainsworth
E. W. Allen, 1853
 

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Priljubljeni odlomki

Stran 227 - Yet I had planted thee a noble vine, wholly a right seed : how then art thou turned into the degenerate plant of a strange vine unto me?
Stran 398 - I knew not whether from the good cause or the bad; darkness and lights; tempest and human faces; and at last, with the sense that all was lost, female forms, and the features that were worth all the world to me...
Stran 333 - Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery, And life unto the bitter in soul...
Stran 34 - So dear to Heaven is saintly chastity That, when a soul is found sincerely so, A thousand liveried angels lackey her, Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt...
Stran 308 - The White Whale swam before him as the monomaniac incarnation of all those malicious agencies which some deep men feel eating in them, till they are left living on with half a heart and half a lung.
Stran 204 - They have the pale tint of flowers that blossomed in too retired a shade, — the coolness of a meditative habit, which diffuses itself through the feeling and observation of every sketch. Instead of passion there is sentiment ; and, even in what purport to be pictures of actual life, we have allegory, not always so warmly dressed in its habiliments of flesh and blood as to be taken into the reader's mind without a shiver.
Stran 33 - Who gave the ball, or paid the visit last; One speaks the glory of the British queen, And one describes a charming Indian screen; A third interprets motions, looks, and eyes; At every word a reputation dies.
Stran 204 - The book, if you would see anything in it, requires to be read in the clear, brown, twilight atmosphere in which it was written ; if opened in the sunshine, it is apt to look exceedingly like a volume of blank pages.
Stran 33 - Clipp'd from the lovely head where late it grew) That, while my nostrils draw the vital air, This hand, which won it, shall for ever wear.
Stran 396 - Ann ! She fixed her eyes upon me earnestly ; and I said to her at length : " So then I have found you at last." I waited, but she answered me not a word. Her face was the same as when I saw it last...

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