Books and Their WritersG. Richards Limited, 1920 - 343 psl. |
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Rezultatai 1–5 iš 33
14 psl.
... sort : There is a free love which is neither the ludicrous complication of mar- riage generally understood by the term , nor a foolish denial or cowardly evasion of sex . " I love him for his sense of beauty and goodness , his ...
... sort : There is a free love which is neither the ludicrous complication of mar- riage generally understood by the term , nor a foolish denial or cowardly evasion of sex . " I love him for his sense of beauty and goodness , his ...
38 psl.
... Sort of man who tells you what he likes for breakfast . I only go with him . . . . Well , you know why , as well as I do . But he's never on for a bit of fun . That's it : he's got no devil in him . I don't like that kind . Prefer the ...
... Sort of man who tells you what he likes for breakfast . I only go with him . . . . Well , you know why , as well as I do . But he's never on for a bit of fun . That's it : he's got no devil in him . I don't like that kind . Prefer the ...
39 psl.
... sort . Eventually Alf and Em go , and Jenny is left at home to look after Pa and work out in her mind exactly what she has done , gradually rising into a frenzy of rebellion at the dullness and slavery which is her life . While she is ...
... sort . Eventually Alf and Em go , and Jenny is left at home to look after Pa and work out in her mind exactly what she has done , gradually rising into a frenzy of rebellion at the dullness and slavery which is her life . While she is ...
41 psl.
... sort . Here we are shown the narrowness of suburban society . " One would think that a quite special piece of righteousness had been dealt out to each of the Beckwith ladies at birth by a benign fairy . Liv- ing in Beckwith is like ...
... sort . Here we are shown the narrowness of suburban society . " One would think that a quite special piece of righteousness had been dealt out to each of the Beckwith ladies at birth by a benign fairy . Liv- ing in Beckwith is like ...
44 psl.
... sort of disease . If you live in London you hardly know your neighbours - you have your own friends . Nobody else cares twopence about you . But London isn't England . I've been wondering if , directly you go to England to live , you ...
... sort of disease . If you live in London you hardly know your neighbours - you have your own friends . Nobody else cares twopence about you . But London isn't England . I've been wondering if , directly you go to England to live , you ...
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Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Alice Meynell artist ballads beauty character Charlotte Brontë charm colour comes Compton Mackenzie critic Cumberland Cymbeline D. H. Lawrence delight Dorothy Richardson emotional England English essay eyes feel genius girl give happy Hearn heart Hugh Walpole human humour imagination intellectual interest J. C. Squire Jane Austen Jenny light literary literature living Lord lover married master mind Miss modern moral nature never night novelist novels pass passion play poems poet poetry prose quotes reader realise Reginald romantic Rupert Brooke Saki secret seems sense Shakespeare sing Sir Edward Cook song soul spirit story Strachey style sweet Swinburne Sylvia Scarlett talk Tennyson things thought tion true truth turn verse W. H. Davies W. J. Turner whole wife woman women wonderful words write young youth
Populiarios ištraukos
61 psl. - It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.
85 psl. - HARK! hark, my soul; angelic songs are swelling O'er earth's green fields, and ocean's wavebeat shore : How sweet the truth those blessed strains are telling Of that new life when sin shall be no more. Angels of Jesus, angels of light, Singing to welcome the pilgrims of the night. 2 Onward we go, for still we hear them singing, 'Come, weary souls, for Jesus bids you come...
207 psl. - The expense of spirit in a waste of shame Is lust in action...
210 psl. - The streets were mine, the temple was mine, the people were mine, their clothes and gold and silver were mine as much as their sparkling eyes, fair skins and ruddy faces. The skies were mine, and so were the sun and moon and stars, and all the World was mine and I the only spectator and enjoyer of it.
246 psl. - Ah! no; a shepherd of a different stock, And far unlike him, feeds this little flock: A jovial youth, who thinks his Sunday's task As much as God or man can fairly ask; The rest he gives to loves and labours light. To fields the morning, and to feasts the night; None better...
141 psl. - Was there love once? I have forgotten her. Was there grief once? Grief yet is mine. O loved, living, dying, heroic soldier, All, all my joy, my grief, my love, are thine.
216 psl. - You will see Coleridge — he who sits obscure In the exceeding lustre and the pure Intense irradiation of a mind, Which, with its own internal lightning blind, Flags wearily through darkness and despair — A cloud-encircled meteor of the air, A hooded eagle among blinking owls.
296 psl. - Shy as the squirrel and wayward as the swallow, Swift as the swallow along the river's light Circleting the surface to meet his mirror'd winglets, Fleeter she seems in her stay than in her flight.
52 psl. - Oh! it is only a novel!" replies the young lady; while she lays down her book with affected indifference, or momentary shame. - "It is only Cecilia, or Camilla, or Belinda;" or, in short, only some work in which the greatest powers of the mind are displayed, in which the most thorough knowledge of human nature, the happiest delineation of its varieties, the liveliest effusions of wit and humour are conveyed to the world in the best chosen language.
53 psl. - I could no more write a romance than an epic poem. I could not sit seriously down to write a serious romance under any other motive than to save my life...