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The Complete Works of Charles Lamb: Containing His Letters, Essays, Poems ...
Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2015
admiration affection appear beauty believe character Coleridge comes common dear death delight dreams expression eyes face fancy fear feel give gone grace half hand head hear heard heart hope interest John keep kind lady Lamb Lamb's late leave less letter light lines live London look manner Mary matter mean mind Miss morning nature never night once passed passion perhaps person picture play pleasure poem poet poor present Quaker reason received remember scarce scene seems seen sense sister sometimes sort speak spirit stand sure sweet tell thee things thou thought tion true truth turn verses volume walk week whole wish write written young
Seite 342 - I behold like a Spanish great galleon, and an English man-of-war ; Master Jonson (like the former) was built far higher in learning ; solid, but slow in his performances. Shakespeare with the English man-ofwar, lesser in bulk, but lighter in sailing, could turn with all tides, tack about and take advantage of all winds, by the quickness of his wit and invention.
Seite 404 - Thus this custom of firing houses continued till in process of time, says my manuscript, a sage arose, like our Locke, who made a discovery, that the flesh of swine, or indeed of any other animal, might be cooked (burnt, as they called it) without the necessity of consuming a whole house to dress it. Then first began the rude form of a gridiron.
Seite 392 - I explained to them what coyness, and difficulty, and denial meant in maidens — when suddenly, turning to Alice, the soul of the first Alice looked out at her eyes with such a reality of re-presentment, that I became in doubt which of them stood there before me, or whose that bright hair was, — and while I stood gazing, both the children gradually grew fainter...
Seite 392 - I did not cry or take it to heart as some do, and as I think he would have done if I had died, yet I missed him all day long, and knew not till then how much I had loved him. I missed his kindness, and I missed his crossness, and wished him to be alive again, to be quarrelling with him, (for we quarrelled sometimes,) rather than not have him again...
Seite 481 - ... keep brushed, since we have become rich and finical, give you half the honest vanity, with which you flaunted it about in that overworn suit — your old corbeau — for four or five weeks longer than you should have done, to pacify your conscience for the mighty sum of fifteen — or sixteen shillings was it ? — a great affair we thought it then — which you had lavished on the old folio. Now you can afford to buy any book that pleases you, but I do not see that you ever bring me home any...
Seite 341 - Come back into memory, like as thou wert in the dayspring of thy fancies, with hope like a fiery column before thee — the dark pillar not yet turned — Samuel Taylor Coleridge — Logician, Metaphysician, Bard...
Seite 543 - To move a horror skilfully, to touch a soul to the quick, to lay upon fear as much as it can bear, to wean and weary a life till it is ready to drop, and then step in with mortal instruments to take its last forfeit : this only a Webster can do. Inferior geniuses may "upon horror's head horrors accumulate,
Seite 405 - Behold him, while he is doing - it seemeth rather a refreshing warmth, than a scorching heat, that he is so passive to. How equably he twirleth round the string! - Now he is just done. To see the extreme sensibility of that tender age, he hath wept out his pretty eyes - radiant jellies - shooting stars.
Seite 428 - He is known by his knock. Your heart telleth you, "That is Mr. ." A rap, between familiarity and respect; that demands, and, at the same time, seems to despair of, entertainment. He entereth smiling and — embarrassed. He holdeth out his hand to you to shake, and — draweth it back again. He casually looketh in about dinner-time — when the table is full.
Seite 406 - I forget the decision. His sauce should be considered : decidedly, a few bread crumbs, done up with his liver and brains, and a dash of mild sage. But banish, dear Mrs. Cook, I beseech you, the whole onion tribe. Barbecue your whole hogs to your palate, steep them in shalots, stuff them out with plantations of the rank and guilty garlic ; you cannot poison them, or make them stronger than they are ; but consider, he is a weakling, — a flower.