The Bibliotaph, and Other People

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1898 - 233 páginas
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This 1898 volume offers a collection of essays on literary subjects ranging from John Keats's letters to the work of Thomas Hardy.

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Página 126 - It may be said that we ought to read our contemporaries, that Wordsworth &c. should have their due from us. But, for the sake of a few fine imaginative or domestic passages, are we to be bullied into a certain Philosophy engendered in the whims of an Egotist ? Every man has his speculations, but every man does not brood and peacock over them till he makes a false coinage and deceives himself.
Página 127 - We hate poetry that has a palpable design upon us— and if we do not agree, seems to put its hand in its breeches pocket. Poetry should be great and unobtrusive, a thing which enters into one's soul, and does not startle it or amaze it with itself, but with its subject.— How beautiful are the retired flowers!
Página 136 - Isle" and when the leaves whisper it puts a girdle round the earth. Nor will this sparing touch of noble books be any irreverence to their writers— for perhaps the honors paid by man to man are trifles in comparison to the benefit done by great works to the "spirit and pulse" of good by their mere passive existence. Memory should not be called knowledge. Many have original minds who do not think it— they are led away by custom. Now it appears to me that almost any man may like the spider spin...
Página 136 - I had an idea that a Man might pass a very pleasant life in this manner — let him on a certain day' read a certain Page of full Poesy or distilled Prose, and let him wander with it, and muse upon it, and reflect...
Página 133 - Is it not extraordinary ? — when among men, I have no evil thoughts, no malice, no spleen; I feel free to speak or to be silent; I can listen, and from every one I can learn ; my hands are in my pockets, I am free from all suspicion, and comfortable. When I am among women, I have evil thoughts, malice, spleen ; I cannot speak, or be silent ; I am full of suspicions, and therefore listen to nothing ; I am in a hurry to be gone.
Página 123 - The Genius of Poetry must work out its own salvation in a man. It cannot be matured by law and precept, but by sensation and watchfulness in itself. That which is creative must create itself.
Página 89 - He looked and smelt like Autumn's very brother, his face being sunburnt to wheat-colour, his eyes blue as corn-flowers, his sleeves and leggings dyed with fruit-stains, his hands clammy with the sweet juice of apples, his hat sprinkled with pips, and everywhere about him that atmosphere of cider which at its first return each season has such an indescribable fascination for those who have been born and bred among the orchards.
Página 89 - How they sigh directly we put 'em upright, though while they are lying down they don't sigh at all,' said Marty. ' Do they ? ' said Giles. ' I've never noticed it.' She erected one of the young pines into its hole, and held up her finger ; the soft musical breathing instantly set in which was not to cease night or day till the grown tree should be felled — probably long after the two planters had been felled themselves. ' It seems to me,' the girl continued, ' as if they sigh because they are very...
Página 119 - Whenever I find myself growing vapourish, I rouse myself, wash, and put on a clean shirt, brush my hair and clothes, tie my shoestrings neatly, and in fact adonize as if I were going out. Then, all clean and comfortable, I sit down to write. This I find the greatest relief.
Página 125 - Endymion " serves me as a pioneer, perhaps I ought to be content — I have great reason to be content, for thank God I can read, and perhaps understand Shakespeare to his depths ; and I have I am sure many friends, who, if I fail, will attribute any change in my life and temper to humbleness rather than pride — to a cowering under the wings of great poets, rather than to a bitterness that I am not appreciated.

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