Middlemarch: A Study of Provincial Life

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J.B. Alden, 1883 - 761 pages
 

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Page 378 - For the rain it raineth every day, But when I came, alas! to wive, With hey, ho, the wind and the rain/ By swaggering could I never thrive, For the rain it raineth every day.
Page 234 - Love seeketh not Itself to please, Nor for itself hath any care, But for another gives its ease, And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair." So sung a little Clod of Clay Trodden with the cattle's feet, But a Pebble of the brook Warbled out these metres meet: "Love seeketh only Self to please, To bind another to Its delight, Joys in another's loss of ease, And builds a Hell in Heaven's despite.
Page 503 - CHARACTER OF A HAPPY LIFE How happy is he born and taught That serveth not another's will; Whose armor is his honest thought, And simple truth his utmost skill!
Page 144 - Not, Celia, that I juster am, Or better than the rest, For I would change each hour like them, Were not my heart at rest. But I am tied to very thee By every thought I have, Thy face I only care to see, Thy heart I only crave. All that in Woman is adored In thy dear self I find, For the whole sex can but afford The handsome and the kind.
Page 503 - This man is freed from servile bands Of hope to rise or fear to fall : Lord of himself, though not of lands, And, having nothing, yet hath all.
Page 750 - Nor I, said Mr. Live-loose, for he would always be condemning my way. Hang him, hang him ! said Mr. Heady. A sorry scrub, said Mr. High-mind. My heart riseth against him, said Mr. Enmity. He is a rogue, said Mr. Liar. Hanging is too good for him, said Mr.
Page 89 - But deeds and language such as men do use, And persons such as Comedy would choose, When she would show an image of the times. And sport with human follies, not with crimes; Except we make 'em such, by loving still Our popular errors, when we know they're ill.
Page 8 - Here and there a cygnet is reared uneasily among the ducklings in the brown pond, and never finds the living stream in fellowship with its own oary-footed kind. Here and there is born a Saint Theresa, foundress of nothing, whose loving heart-beats and sobs after an unattained goodness tremble off and are dispersed among hindrances, instead of centering in some long-recognisable deed.
Page 567 - This implicit reasoning is essentially no more peculiar to evangelical belief than the use of wide phrases for narrow motives is peculiar to Englishmen. There is no general doctrine which is not capable of eating out our morality if unchecked by the deepseated habit of direct fellow-feeling with individual fellow-men.

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