Excursions in Art and Letters

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1891 - 295 Seiten

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Seite 235 - ... accent of Christians, nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted and bellowed, that I have thought some of nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
Seite 268 - Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men May read strange -matters: — to beguile the time, Look like the time ; bear welcome in your eye, Your hand, your tongue : look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent...
Seite 257 - I go, and it is done : the bell invites me. Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell That summons thee to heaven, or to hell.
Seite 284 - tis later, sir. Ban. Hold, take my sword. There's husbandry in heaven, Their candles are all out. Take thee that too. A heavy summons lies like lead upon me, And yet I would not sleep. Merciful powers, Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature Gives way to in repose!
Seite 279 - Duncan is in his grave ; After life's fitful fever he sleeps well; Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison, Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, Can touch him further.
Seite 267 - You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, To cry 'Hold, hold!
Seite 283 - Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf ; And that which should accompany old age, As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have ; but, in their stead, Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.
Seite 279 - But let the frame of things disjoint, both the worlds suffer, Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep In the affliction of these terrible dreams, That shake us nightly...
Seite 285 - Thou hast it now, King, Cawdor, Glamis, all As the weird women promis'd ; and, I fear, Thou play'dst most foully for't : yet it was said, It should not stand in thy posterity ; But that myself should be the root, and father Of many kings.
Seite 255 - tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly: If the assassination Could trammel up the consequence, and catch, 'With his surcease, success ; that but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here. But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, — We'd jump the life to come...

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