Chapters on Language

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Longmans, Green and Company, 1865 - 308 psl.
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279 psl. - For my part, when I enter most intimately into what I call myself, I always stumble on some particular perception or other, of heat or cold, light or shade, love or hatred, pain or pleasure. I never can catch myself at any time without a perception, and never can observe anything but the perception.
228 psl. - The charm dissolves apace ; And as the morning steals upon the night, Melting the darkness, so their rising senses Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle Their clearer reason.
64 psl. - The baby new to earth and sky, What time his tender palm is prest Against the circle of the breast, Has never thought that 'this is I :' But as he grows he gathers much, And learns the use of 'I,' and 'me,' And finds 'I am not what I see, And other than the things I touch.
86 psl. - tis a common proof That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, Whereto the climber-upward turns his face : But when he once attains the utmost round, He then unto the ladder turns his back, Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees By which he did ascend : So Caesar may ; Then, lest he may, prevent.
12 psl. - And God created great whales, and every living creature that moveth, which the waters brought forth abundantly, after their kind, and every winged fowl after his kind : and God saw that it was good. And God blessed them, saying, Be fruitful, and multiply, and fill the waters in the seas, and let fowl multiply in the earth.
104 psl. - Tis the merry Nightingale That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates With fast thick warble his delicious notes; As he were fearful that an April night Would be too short for him to utter forth His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul Of all its music...
87 psl. - She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love : A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye ! — Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be ; But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference to me...
8 psl. - It seems to me that Pygmalion's frenzy is a good emblem or portraiture of this vanity : for words are but the images of matter, and except they have life of reason and invention, to fall in love with them is all one, as to fall in love with a picture.
96 psl. - Man loses his instincts as he ceases to want them. His senses become fainter when, as in the case of scent, they become useless. Thus the creative faculty which gave to each conception, as it thrilled for the first time through the brain, a phonetic expression, became extinct when its object was fulfilled.
12 psl. - And out of the ground the LORD God formed every beast of the field, and every fowl of the air; and brought them unto Adam to see what he would call them: and whatsoever Adam called every living creature, that was the name thereof.

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