Lizzie, Volume 1

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Page 99 - tis time 'to do't. — Hell is murky! — Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account? — Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?
Page 224 - ... keep the word of promise to the ear, and break it to the hope" — we have presumed to court the assistance of the friends of the drama to strengthen our infant institution.
Page 100 - To bed, to bed; there's knocking at the gate. Come, come, come, come, give me your hand ; What's done, cannot be undone : To bed, ta bed, to bed.
Page 239 - And if he is next to the title, Maria, what's that to us ? We ain't members of a bloated aristocracy. I hope me and mine reckon such distinctions at their proper value. " The rank is but the guinea stamp. The man's the man, for a
Page 265 - Every man should strive to better his position, but he must have the talent to climb, and the power to sustain himself when he is there. It is not the efficient and industrious part of the population who keep up this constant turmoil of dissatisfaction between the employers and employed ; they are content to do the best in their station, as others do in theirs. It is the rough, idle...
Page 171 - God to call him;" but many things are included in this comprehensive injunction that no legislation could enforce. It is the duty of country gentlemen to set a good example to the inferior classes in their neighbourhood, to be friendly, temperate, not given to brawling ; it is the duty of all men, and more particularly...
Page 99 - Here's the smell o' the blood still. All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand." And so in Chaucer — there is the Wife of Bath, hugging to her tough old heart the remembrance of her "world" that she has had "in her time.
Page 100 - ... wringing from her hands the warm gore of the murdered Duncan, and dragging, with the impotent effort of her agonized nightmare, her husband away from the sound of the "knocking" which reverberates still in the distracted chambers of her brain, almost the last words she articulates are : " I tell you yet again, Banquo is buried ; he cannot come out of his grave.
Page 32 - ... the pence of the poor, as well as the pounds of the rich, all went to replenish his empty coffers.
Page 65 - ... happiness of man than an able physician. The physician's motive and purpose is that of making sick people well. He doesn't become a physician and practice his profession every day in the week, and all hours of the day and night, with the thought prominently in mind that he loves his patients, or that he is trying to do all the good he can in the world, or that he expects them to be grateful to him. It is his job to make sick people well. Years ago he selected that as his profession, and the test...

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