The man without soul

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Obsah

I
1
II
16
III
45
IV
66
V
89
VI
120
VII
138
VIII
159
XVII
19
XVIII
32
XIX
45
XX
59
XXI
78
XXII
113
XXIII
128
XXIV
147

IX
177
X
191
XI
209
XII
229
XIII
268
XIV
281
XV
295
XVI
1
XXV
167
XXVI
184
XXVII
202
XXVIII
220
XXIX
239
XXX
251
XXXI
278

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Oblíbené pasáže

Strana 200 - O, that the slave had forty thousand lives ! One is too poor, too weak for my revenge. Now do I see 'tis true. Look here, lago ; All my fond love thus do I blow to heaven : 'Tis gone. Arise, black vengeance, from thy hollow cell ! Yield up, O love, thy crown and hearted throne To tyrannous hate ! Swell, bosom, with thy fraught, For 'tis of aspics
Strana 145 - The dawn is overcast, the morning lowers And heavily in clouds brings on the day The great, th' important day
Strana 138 - Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace. Even so my sun one early morn did shine With all-triumphant splendour on my brow; But out, alack!
Strana 279 - But then I sigh, and with a piece of Scripture, Tell them — that God bids us do good for evil ; And thus I clothe my naked villany With old odd ends, stolen forth of holy writ ; And seem a saint, when most I play the devil.
Strana 17 - O curse of marriage, That we can call these delicate creatures ours, And not their appetites ! I had rather be a toad, And live upon the vapour of a dungeon, Than keep a corner in the thing I love For others
Strana 196 - ... or wood so green, Unheard, unsought for, or unseen, A thousand pleasures do me bless, And crown my soul with happiness. All my joys besides are folly, None so sweet as melancholy.
Strana 45 - Her serious sayings darken'd to sublimity; In short, in all things she was fairly what I call A prodigy — her morning dress was dimity, Her evening silk, or, in the summer, muslin, And other stuffs, with which I won't stay puzzling. XIII She knew the Latin — that is, 'the Lord's prayer...
Strana 159 - Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased ; Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow ; Raze out the written troubles of the brain ; And, with some sweet, oblivious antidote, Cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff, Which weighs upon the heart ? Doct.
Strana 138 - I'll read, his for his love." XXXIII. Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy ; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face...
Strana 43 - In giving me a spotless offering To young Amintor's bed, as we are now For you. Pardon, Evadne; 'would my worth Were great as yours, or that the king, or he, Or both, thought so! Perhaps he found me worthless: But, till he did so, in these ears of mine, These credulous ears, he pour'd the sweetest words That art or love could frame.

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