Books and Reading: Or, What Books Shall I Read and how Shall I Read Them?

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C. Scribner's sons, 1881 - 434 Seiten
 

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Seite 86 - To die;—to sleep,— No more ; and by a sleep, to say we end The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to,—'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wished. To die ;—to sleep;— To sleep ! perchance to dream ;—ay, there's the rub ; For in that sleep
Seite 86 - the dread of something after death,— The undiscovered country, from whose bourn No traveler returns,—puzzles the will ; And makes us rather bear those ills we have, Than fly to others that we know not of. Thus conscience does make cowards of us
Seite 22 - As good almost kill a man as kill a good book ; who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image, but he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself, kills the image of God as it were in the eye.
Seite 278 - and Ben Jonson, in the words which, though familiar, will bear repeating: " Many were the wit-combats between him and Ben Jonson, which two I beheld like a Spanish great galleon and an English man-of-war. Master Jonson, like the former, was built far higher in learning; solid but slow iu his performances.
Seite 86 - this mortal coil, Must give us pause. There's the respect That makes calamity of so long a life; For who would bear the whips and scorns of time ****** But that the dread of something after death,— The undiscovered country, from whose bourn No traveler
Seite 83 - Me miserable ! which way shall I fly Infinite wrath and infinite despair ? Which way I fly is hell—myself am Hell! And in the lowest deep, a lower deep, Still threatening to devour me, opens wide, To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.
Seite 244 - Poetry," says Wordsworth, "is the breath and finer spirit of all knowledge; it is the impassioned expression which is in the countenance of all science; emphatically may it be said of the poet, as Shakspeare hath said of man,
Seite 83 - Which way I fly is hell—myself am Hell! And in the lowest deep, a lower deep, Still threatening to devour me, opens wide, To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven. 0 then at last relent: is there no place Left for repentance, none for pardon left ? None left but by submission, and that word Disdain forbids me and my dread of shame.
Seite 371 - These libraries," Franklin adds, "have improved the general conversation of the Americans, made the common tradesmen and farmers as intelligent as most gentlemen in other countries, and perhaps have contributed in some degree to the stand so generally made throughout the colonies in defence of their privileges.
Seite 52 - get no good By being ungenerous even to a book And calculating profits, so much help By so much reading. It is rather when We gloriously forget ourselves and plunge Soul-forward, headlong, into a book's profound, Impassioned for its beauty and salt of truth— ' Tis then we get the right good from a book.

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