The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 48

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Atlantic Monthly Company, 1881 - American essays
 

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Page 418 - ... uncle, My father's brother, but no more like my father Than I to Hercules: within a month, Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing in her galled eyes, She married.
Page 172 - ... the sundry contemplation of my travels, in which my often rumination wraps me in a most humorous sadness.
Page 418 - That it should come to this! But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two: So excellent a king; that was, to this, Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly.
Page 325 - I don't know what great unhappiness might bring me to; but it seems to me I shall always be ashamed. One must accept one's deeds. I married him before all the world; I was perfectly free; it was impossible to do anything more deliberate. One can't change that way,
Page 199 - Her notion of the aristocratic life was simply the union of great knowledge with great liberty, the knowledge would give one a sense of duty and the liberty a sense of enjoyment.
Page 57 - Her light step drew a mass of drapery behind it; her intelligent head sustained a majesty of ornament. The free, keen girl had become quite another person; what he saw was the fine lady who was supposed to represent something. What did Isabel represent ? Ralph asked himself; and he could only answer by saying that she represented Gilbert Osmond. "Good heavens, what a function!
Page 253 - ANTHROPOLOGY. An Introduction to the Study of Man and Civilization.
Page 418 - O, that this too too solid flesh would melt, Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew! Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd His canon 'gainst self-slaughter!
Page 195 - Instead of leading to the high places of happiness, from which the world would seem to lie below one, so that one could look down with a sense of exaltation and advantage, and judge and choose and pity, it led rather downward and earthward, into realms of restriction and depression where the sound of other lives, easier and freer, was heard as from above, and where it served to deepen the feeling of failure.
Page 418 - I remember? why, she would hang on him, As if increase of appetite had grown By what it fed on; and yet, within a month, Let me not think on't: Frailty, thy name is woman!

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