The Highways of Literature: Or, What to Read and how to ReadFunk & Wagnalls, 1883 - 156 psl. |
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50 cents amid audience beautiful become Bible biography Brutus C. H. SPURGEON Cæsar called Carlyle character Church cloth DAVID GARRICK delight Dogb drama dramatist earth English every-day everything example eyes face fact faculty fancy feel friends FUNK & WAGNALLS give hear heart HENRY FIELDING HENRY WARD BEECHER human nature ideas images imagination imitate John Hall kind king knowledge Lady leek literature lives LL.D look Macd master memory mental method mind never noble novels object ourselves paper Peter Quince play poetry poets present PUBLICATIONS OF FUNK Pyramus Quin R. S. STORRS Robert Raikes Robin Starveling says scene sent by mail sentiments Shakespeare Sir William Hamilton soul speak speaker speech spirit Standard Series sympathy things thou thoughts tion true orator truth understand voice vols whole wonderful words young
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108 psl. - Fife had a wife; where is she now? What, will these hands ne'er be clean? No more o' that, my lord, no more o' that: you mar all with this starting.
138 psl. - tis his will. Let but the commons hear this testament, — Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read, — And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds, And dip their napkins in his sacred blood; Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And, dying, mention it within their wills, the Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy, Unto their issue.
109 psl. - And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine, And all for use of that which is mine own. Well then, it now appears you need my help: Go to, then; you come to me, and you say 'Shylock, we would have moneys...
83 psl. - Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, — The seasons...
138 psl. - But yesterday the word of Caesar might Have stood against the world ; now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence.
148 psl. - All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits, and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms; And then, the whining school-boy, with his satchel, And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school: And then, the lover; Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress...
18 psl. - tis He alone Decidedly can try us, He knows each chord its various tone, Each spring its various bias : Then at the balance let's be mute, We never can adjust it; What's done we partly may compute, But know not what's resisted.
15 psl. - The mathematics, and the metaphysics, Fall to them, as you find your stomach serves you: No profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en ; — In brief, sir, study what you most affect.
137 psl. - Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones ; So let it be with Caesar.
83 psl. - The seasons' difference ; as, the icy fang, And churlish chiding of the winter's wind ; Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say, — This is no flattery : these are counsellors, That feelingly persuade me what I am. Sweet are the uses of adversity ; Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head ; And this our life, exempt from public haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and...