For if ye had been able to see all, No need there were for Mary to give birth;.
We were wanderers on a prehistoric earth, on an earth that wore the aspect of an unknown planet. We could have fancied ourselves the first of men taking possession of an accursed inheritance, to be subdued at the cost of profound anguish and of excessive toil.
She lamented about her love of life, that life without grace and charm, and almost without decency, but of an exalted faithfulness of purpose, even into murder.
D’un tratto le tenebre si tramutarono in acqua.
In plucking the fruit of memory one runs the risk of spoiling its bloom.
Mr Verloc felt the latent unfriendliness of all out of doors with a force approaching to positive bodily anguish.
There are no such things. All passion is lost now. The world is mediocre, limp, without force. And madness and despair are a force. And force is a crime in the eyes of the fools, the weak and the silly who rule the roost.
My bones were buried by Octavian. I am Virgilius; and for no crime else Did I lose heaven, than for not having faith;.
Stein lifted his hand. “And do you know how many opportunities I let escape; how many dreams I had lost that had come in my way?” He shook his head regretfully. “It seems to me that some would have been very fine – if I had made them come true. Do you know how many? Perhaps I myself don’t know.
Both these white men looked on native life as a mere play of shadows. A play of shadows the dominant race could walk through unaffected and disregarded in the pursuit of its incomprehensible aims and needs.
To the unblushing womankind of Florence To go about displaying breast and paps.
That’s how she was. You could never be sure what she would be up to next. There are ships difficult to handle, but generally you can depend on them behaving rationally. With that ship, whatever you did with her you never knew how it would end. She was a wicked beast. Or, perhaps, she was only just insane.
Youth that is fresh enough to believe in guilt, in innocence, and in itself, will always doubt whether it have not perchance deserved its fate.
Not the faintest sound of any kind could be heard. You looked on amazed, and began to suspect yourself of being deaf – then the night came suddenly, and struck you blind as well.
This was the foreman – a boiler-maker by trade – a good worker. He was a lank, bony, yellow-faced man, with big intense eyes. His aspect was worried, and his head was as bald as the palm of my hand; but his hair in falling seemed to have stuck to his chin, and had prospered in the new locality, for his beard hung down to his waist.
They give you wages as they’d fling a bone to a dog, and they expect you to be grateful. It’s worse than slavery. You don’t expect a slave that’s bought for money to be grateful. And if you sell your work – what is it but selling your own self? You’ve got so many days to live and you sell them one after another. Hey? Who can pay me enough for my life? Ah! But they throw at you your week’s money and expect you to say, “thank you” before you pick it up.
They had destroyed our sails, consumed more stores than the crew, affably shared our beds and our dangers, and now, when the ship was made seaworthy, concluded to clear out... after some more talk we concluded that the wisdom of rats had been grossly overrated, being in fact no greater than that of men.
No wonder there are bandits in the Campo when there are none but thieves, swindlers, and sanguinary macaques to rule us...
It was inconceivable how he had existed, how he had succeeded in getting so far, how he had managed to remain – why he did not instantly disappear.
The time was the beginning of the morning, And up the sun was mounting with those stars.