The Complete Works of Nathaniel Hawthorne, Volume 10

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Printed at the Riverside Press, 1882 - American fiction
 

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Page 213 - Sedgwicks, merely exchanging a greeting with me from under the brim of his straw hat, and driving on. He presented himself now with a long white beard, such as a palmer might have worn as the growth of his long pilgrimages, a brow almost entirely bald, and what hair he has quite hoary ; a forehead impending, yet not massive ; dark, bushy eyebrows and keen eyes, without much softness in them ; a dark and sallow complexion ; a slender figure, bent a little with age ; but at once alert and infirm. It...
Page 174 - It seems to me that a story, with all sorts of fun and pathos in it, might be contrived on the idea of their species having become intermingled with the human race; a family with the faun blood in them having prolonged itself from the^ classic era iilL our own_days.
Page 251 - ... arched all over, and, going down into the unknown darkness, looked like caverns; and we followed one of them doubtfully, till it opened out upon the light. The houses on each side were divided only by a pace or two, and communicated with one another, here and there, by arched passages. They looked very ancient, and may have been inhabited by Etruscan princes, judging from the massiveness of some of the foundation stones.
Page 223 - It is very singular, the sad embrace with which Rome takes possession of the soul. Though we intend to return in a few months, and for a longer residence than this has been, yet we felt the city pulling at our heartstrings far more than London did, where we shall probably never spend much time again.
Page 480 - The next day we drove along the Cassian Way towards Rome. It was a most delightful morning, a genial atmosphere; the more so, I suppose, because this was the Campagna, the region of pestilence and death. I had a quiet, gentle, comfortable pleasure, as if, after many wanderings, I was drawing near Rome, for, now that I have known it once, Rome certainly does draw into itself my heart, as I think even London, or even little Concord itself, or old sleepy Salem, never did and never will.
Page 333 - This Magdalen is very coarse and sensual, with only an impudent assumption of penitence and religious sentiment, scarcely so deep as the eyelids ; but it is a splendid picture, nevertheless, with those naked, lifelike arms, and the hands that press the rich locks about her, and so carefully permit those voluptuous breasts to be seen. She a penitent! She would shake off all pretence to it as easily as she would shake aside that clustering hair. . . . Titian must have been a very good-for-nothing old...
Page 97 - ... with these chapels there is a marble structure, like the architecture of a doorway, beneath which is the shrine of a saint ; so that the whole circle of the Pantheon is filled up with the seven chapels and seven shrines. A number of persons were sitting or kneeling around ; others came in while I was there, dipping their fingers in the holy water, and bending the knee as they passed the shrines and chapels, until they reached the one which, apparently, they had selected as the particular altar...
Page 337 - He is a very instructive man, and sweeps one's empty and dead notions out of the way with exceeding vigor ; but when you have his ultimate thought and perception, you feel inclined to think and see a little further for yourself.
Page 429 - Webster, which has just been cast from bis model. It is the second cast of the statue, the first having been shipped some months ago on board of a vessel which was lost ; and, as Powers observed, the statue now lies at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean somewhere in the vicinity of the telegraphic cable. We were received with much courtesy and emphasis by the director of the foundry, and conducted into a large room walled with bare, new brick, where...
Page 24 - Thence we turned into the Rue St. Denis, which is one of the oldest streets in Paris, and is said to have been first marked out by the track of the saint's footsteps, where, after his martyrdom, he walked along it, with his head under his arm, in quest of a burial-place. This legend may account for any crookedness of the street; for it could not reasonably be asked of a headless man that he should walk straight.

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