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Seite 414 - Out of it come the shapes which you turn into marble or bronze in your immortal books, if you happen to write such. Or, to use another illustration, writing or printing is like shooting with a rifle ; you may hit your reader's mind, or miss it ; but talking is like playing at a mark with the pipe of an engine ; if it is within reach, and you have time enough, you can't help hitting it.
Seite 345 - Nor less the eternal poles Of tendency distribute souls. There need no vows to bind Whom not each other seek, but find. They give and take no pledge or oath, — Nature is the bond of both : No prayer persuades, no flattery fawns,— Their noble meanings are their pawns.
Seite 432 - Time has laid his hand Upon my heart, gently, not smiting it, But as a harper lays his open palm Upon his harp, to deaden its vibrations.
Seite 400 - MY hair is gray, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears. My limbs are bowed, though not with toil, But rusted with a vile repose, For they have been a dungeon's spoil, And mine has been the fate of those To whom the goodly earth and air Are...
Seite 369 - American breed, large and lusty — age thirty-six years (1855) — never once using medicine — never dressed in black, always dressed freely and clean in strong clothes— neck open, shirt-collar flat and broad, countenance tawny transparent red, beard well-mottled with white...
Seite 368 - Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.) I concentrate toward them that are nigh, I wait on the doorslab.
Seite 368 - Surely whoever speaks to me in the right voice, him or her I shall follow, As the water follows the moon, silently, with fluid steps, anywhere around the globe.
Seite 310 - Charleston, sir, was the finest city in the world; not a large city, but the finest. South Carolina, sir, was the flower of modern civilization. Our people the most hospitable, the most accomplished, having the highest degree of culture and the highest sense of honor of any people, I will not say of America, sir, but of any country on the globe. And they are so still, even in their temporary desolation.
Seite 362 - To any one dying, thither I speed and twist the knob of the door, Turn the bed-clothes toward the foot of the bed, Let the physician and the priest go home.