The Book Buyer, 9. kötet

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Charles Scribner's Sons, 1893
A review and record of current literature.

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210. oldal - That young lady had a talent for describing the involvements, and feelings, and characters of ordinary life, which is to me the most wonderful I ever met with. The Big Bow-wow strain I can do myself like any now going; but the exquisite touch, which renders ordinary commonplace things and characters interesting, from the truth of the description and the sentiment, is denied to me.
74. oldal - Tender-handed stroke a nettle, And it stings you for your pains ; Grasp it like a man of mettle, And it soft as silk remains.
575. oldal - 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.
341. oldal - To live content with small means — to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion — to be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not rich— to...
7. oldal - Could you believe me without? I had no portrait, now, but am small, like the wren; and my hair is bold, like the chestnut burr; and my eyes, like the sherry in the glass, that the guest leaves.
284. oldal - I have used it in my own case when suffering from nervous exhaustion, with gratifying results. I have prescribed it for many of the various forms of nervous debility, and it has never failed to do good.
244. oldal - Overworked men and women, the nervous, weak and debilitated, will find in the Acid Phosphate a most agreeable, grateful and harmless stimulant, giving renewed strength and vigor to the entire system. Dr. EDWIN F.
72. oldal - Poet, novelist, essayist, dramatist, shall be ranked honourable in my Republic. I am neither, but a man of law, a student of the sciences, a politician, on the road to government and statecraft: and yet I say I have learnt as much from light literature as from heavy — as much, that is, from the pictures of our human blood in motion as from the clever assortment of our forefatherly heaps of bones. Shun those who cry out against fiction and have no taste for elegant writing. For to have no sympathy...
123. oldal - ... lighted by tongues of flickering flame which issued from the cracks in the surrounding slopes. At intervals of about half an hour the volcano regularly blew off steam. It rose in jets with great violence from the bottom of the crater, and boiled over the lip, continually enveloping us. The noise on these occasions resembled that which we hear when a large ocean steamer is blowing off steam.

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