The British Essayists: With Prefaces, Historical and Biographical, Band 11


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Seite 361 - To DIE to SLEEP — To SLEEP! Perchance to DREAM !— Ay, there's the rub— For in THAT sleep of DEATH what dreams may come, When we have shuffled off this mortal coil Must give us pause -THERE'S the respect That makes calamity of so long a life.
Seite 33 - To daily fraud, contempt, abuse and wrong, Within doors, or without, still as a fool, In power of others, never in my own; Scarce half I seem to live, dead more than half. O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse Without all hope of day! O first created beam, and thou great Word, Let there be light, and light was over all; Why am I thus bereaved Thy prime decree?
Seite 12 - Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio; a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath borne me on his back a thousand times. And now how abhorred in my imagination it is ! My gorge rises at it.
Seite 361 - 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?
Seite 110 - They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters ; these see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep.
Seite 256 - ... mundi. So that he, who in one respect, is associated with angels and archangels, may look upon a Being of infinite perfection as his father, and the highest order of spirits as his brethren, may in another respect say to corruption, " Thou art my father ; and to the worm, Thou art my mother and my sister.
Seite 359 - Farewell ! a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man : to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hopes ; to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him ; The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And, when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
Seite 102 - We are somewhat more than ourselves in our sleeps ; and the slumber of the body seems to be but the waking of the soul. It is the ligation of sense, but the liberty of reason ; and our waking conceptions do not match the fancies of our sleeps.
Seite 27 - I have set the Lord always before me: because he is at my right hand, I shall not be moved.
Seite 111 - Then they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and he bringeth them out of their distresses. He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. Then are they glad because they be quiet; so he bringeth them unto their desired haven.

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