I have always held the old-fashioned opinion that the primary object of work of fiction should be to tell a story.
Miss Fairlie laughed with a ready good-humour, which broke out as brightly as if it had been part of the sunshine above us, over her lovely face. “I.
Now, Betteredge, exert those sharp wits of yours, and observe the conclusion to which the Colonel’s instructions point!” I instantly exerted my wits. They were of the slovenly English sort; and they consequently muddled it all.
As a general rule, political talk appears to me to be of all talk the most dreary and the most profitless.
Her heart beat as if it would suffocate her. She had kept her promise bravely. The whole story of her life, from the time of the home-wreck at Combe-Raven to the time when she had destroyed the Secret Trust in her sister’s presence, had been all laid before him. Nothing that she had done, nothing even that she had thought, had been concealed from his knowledge.
Ah! How much happiness there is in life if we will only have the patience to wait for it.
Evil report, with time and chance to help it, travels patiently, and travels far.
Lovely eyes in colour, lovely eyes in form – large and tender and quietly thoughtful – but beautiful above all things in the clear truthfulness of look that dwells in their inmost depths, and shines through all their changes of expression with the light of a purer and a better world.
I should have looked into my own heart, and found this new growth springing up there, and plucked it out while it was young.
But you make allowances for women; we all talk nonsense. Good.
I can’t say that I woke this morning; the fitter expression would be, that I recovered my senses.
God be praised for His mercy! I have seen a little sunshine – I have had a happy time.
They have tried to make me forget everything, Walter; but I remember Marian, and I remember you’ – in that moment, I, who had long since given her my love, gave her my life, and thanked God that it was mine to bestow on her.
I set down here Mr. Franklin’s careless question, and my foolish answer, as a consolation and encouragement to all stupid people – it being, as I have remarked, a great satisfaction to our inferior fellow-creatures to find that their betters are, on occasions, no brighter than they are.
I give you better than proof, gentlemen; I give you my positive opinion.
The days passed on, the weeks passed on, and the track of the golden autumn wound its bright way visibly through the green summer of the trees.
Observe, dear lady, what a light is dying on the trees! Does it penetrate your heart, as it penetrates mine?
Its title was, “A Word With You On Your Cap-Ribbons.” “My.
Mi devoto amor por la verdad se halla, gracias a Dios, muy por encima de mi respeto por las personas.
Only give a woman love, and there is nothing she will not venture, suffer, and do.
Don’t doubt my courage, Walter, it’s my weakness that cries, not me.