A Working Grammar of the English Language: Designed to Give in Simple Statement the Principles and Methods of Correct English Speech and Writting

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Funk & Wagnalls Company, 1917 - Всего страниц: 333

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Стр. 74 - tis no matter; Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on ? how then ? Can honour set to a leg? No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound ? No. Honour hath no skill in surgery then ? No. What is honour? A word. What is in that word, honour? What is that honour? Air. A trim reckoning ! — Who hath it? He that died o
Стр. 172 - We may live without poetry, music, and art ; We may live without conscience, and live without heart ; We may live without friends ; we may live without books ; But civilized man cannot live without cooks. He may live without books, — what is knowledge but grieving ? He may live without hope, — what is hope but deceiving ? He may live without love, — what is passion but pining ? But where is the man that can live without dining ? XX.
Стр. 71 - The clear conception, outrunning the deductions of logic, the high purpose, the firm resolve, the dauntless spirit, speaking on the tongue, beaming from the eye, informing every feature, and urging the whole man onward, right onward to his object — this, this is eloquence ; or rather it is something greater and higher than all eloquence, it is action, noble, sublime, godlike action.
Стр. 69 - ... than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in. What should such fellows as I do crawling between earth and heaven? We are arrant knaves, all; believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery. Where's your father? Oph. At home, my lord. Ham. Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the fool nowhere but in's own house.
Стр. 65 - Th' unfeeling for his own. Yet, ah ! why should they know their fate. Since sorrow never comes too late, And happiness too swiftly flies? Thought would destroy their paradise! No more; — where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.
Стр. 125 - Sheer o'er the crystal battlements : from morn To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, A summer's day ; and with the setting sun Dropt from the zenith like a falling star...
Стр. 251 - Wept o'er his wounds, or, tales of sorrow done, Shouldered his crutch and showed how fields were won. Pleased with his guests the good man learned to glow, And quite forgot their vices in their woe; Careless their merits or their faults to scan, His pity gave ere charity began.
Стр. 39 - With antique pillars massy proof, And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light: There let the pealing organ blow, To the full-voiced choir below, In service high, and anthems clear, As may with sweetness through mine ear, Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all Heaven before mine eyes.
Стр. 13 - Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was wasted ; If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters, returning Back to their springs, like the rain, shall fill them full of refreshment ; That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain.
Стр. 78 - That a lie which is half a truth is ever the blackest of lies, That a lie which is all a lie may be met and fought with outright, But a lie which is part a truth is a harder matter to fight.

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