The Art of Elocution: From the Simple Articulation of the Elemental Sounds of Language, Up to the Highest Tone of Expression in Speech, Attainable by the Human Voice
Sampson, Low, 1846 - 383 strani
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The Art of Elocution: From the Simple Articulation of the Elemental Sounds ...
Predogled ni na voljo - 2015
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Stran 324 - I cannot tell what you and other men Think of this life, but, for my single self, I had as lief not be as live to be In awe of such a thing as I myself.
Stran 325 - Why should that name be sounded more than yours ? Write them together, yours is as fair a name; Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well; Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with 'em, "Brutus" will start a spirit as soon as "Caesar.
Stran 291 - mong Graemes of the Netherby clan ; Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran : There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee, But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see. So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?
Stran 339 - O, now you weep ; and, I perceive, you feel The dint of pity : these are gracious drops ; Kind souls ! What, weep you, when you but behold Our Caesar's vesture wounded ? Look you here. Here is himself, marr'd, as you see.
Stran 326 - Signior Antonio, many a time and oft In the Rialto you have rated me About my monies, and my usances : Still have I borne it with a patient shrug ; For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe...
Stran 175 - That which is now a horse, even with a thought The rack dislimns, and makes it indistinct, As water is in water.
Stran 335 - O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb That carries anger, as the flint bears fire; Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark, And straight is cold again.
Stran 353 - With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of ? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all...
Stran 352 - tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them ? To die : to sleep ; No more; and by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to ?—'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep...