The Writings of Henry David Thoreau, Том 11

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1894
 

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Стр. 111 - those hills, from which the sun was seen to set, while still our day held on its way. " At last he rose and twitched his mantle blue ; To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new." I remember these things at midnight, at rare intervals. But know, my friends, that Ia good deal
Стр. 324 - Fed the same flock, by fountain, shade, and rill, Tog-ether both, ere the high lawns appeared Under the opening eyelids of the morn, We drove afield, and both together beared," etc. " But O, the heavy change,
Стр. 209 - whose every faculty, from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head, obeys the law of its level; who neither stoops nor goes on tiptoe, but lives a balanced life, acceptable to nature and to God.
Стр. 332 - the plain, a sermon on the mount, or a very private ecstasy still higher up. We are not the less to aim at the summits, though the multitude does not ascend them. Use all the society that will abet you. But perhaps I do not enter into the spirit of your talk.
Стр. 244 - disgust me. O, I hate thee with a hate That would fain annihilate ; Yet, sometimes, against my will, My dear Friend, I love thee still. It were treason to our love, And a sin to God above, One iota to abate Of a pure, impartial hate.
Стр. 331 - in my way. It is not that we love to be alone, but that we love to soar, and when we do soar, the company grows thinner and thinner till there is none at all. It is either the Tribune
Стр. 293 - only positive and fruitful ones. Do what you know you ought to do. Why should we ever go abroad, even across the way, to ask a neighbor's advice? There is a nearer neighbor within us incessantly telling us how we should behave. But we wait for the neighbor without to tell us of some false, easier way.
Стр. 219 - joy. When they tasted of the water of the river over which they were to go, they thought it tasted a little bitterish to the palate, but it proved sweeter when it was down.
Стр. 212 - it did not make much odds what kind of a sound I made. But the gods do not hear any rude or discordant sound, as we learn from the echo ; and I know that the nature toward which I launch these sounds is so rich that it will modulate anew and wonderfully improve my rudest strain.
Стр. 371 - justice is always done. If our merchants did not most of them fail, and the banks too, my faith in the old laws of the world would be staggered. The statement that ninety-six in a hundred doing such business surely break down is perhaps the sweetest fact that statistics have revealed, — exhilarating as the fragrance of sallows in spring.

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