The Plain Speaker: Opinions on Books, Men, and Things, Volume 1 |
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Page 3
... seem not to have the same use of their feet . What is a little extraordinary , there is a want of rhythmus and cadence in what they write without the help of metrical rules . Like persons who have been accustomed to sing to music , they ...
... seem not to have the same use of their feet . What is a little extraordinary , there is a want of rhythmus and cadence in what they write without the help of metrical rules . Like persons who have been accustomed to sing to music , they ...
Page 9
... seems that there is a natural measure of prose in the feeling of the subject and the power of expres- sion in the voice , as there is an artificial one of verse in the number and co - ordination of the syllables ; and I conceive that ...
... seems that there is a natural measure of prose in the feeling of the subject and the power of expres- sion in the voice , as there is an artificial one of verse in the number and co - ordination of the syllables ; and I conceive that ...
Page 10
... seems to him bald and flat ; and , instead of forcing an interest in the subject by severity of description and reasoning , he is repelled from it altogether by the absence of those obvious and meretricious allurements , by which his ...
... seems to him bald and flat ; and , instead of forcing an interest in the subject by severity of description and reasoning , he is repelled from it altogether by the absence of those obvious and meretricious allurements , by which his ...
Page 21
... seems to have " put his hook in the nostrils " of this enormous creature of the crown , that empurples all its track through the glittering expanse of a profound and restless imagination ! In looking into the IRIS of last week , I find ...
... seems to have " put his hook in the nostrils " of this enormous creature of the crown , that empurples all its track through the glittering expanse of a profound and restless imagination ! In looking into the IRIS of last week , I find ...
Page 24
... seem as if they considered prose as a sort of waiting - maid to poetry , that could only be expected to wear her mistress's cast - off finery . Poets have been said to succeed best in fiction ; and the account here given may in part ...
... seem as if they considered prose as a sort of waiting - maid to poetry , that could only be expected to wear her mistress's cast - off finery . Poets have been said to succeed best in fiction ; and the account here given may in part ...
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abstract admiration affectation animals artist beauty better brain character Cockney colour common conceive conversation Correggio craniology delight dream envy ESSAY excellence eyes face faculties fancy favourite feeling friends genius Gil Blas give GRANVILLE SHARP hand head hear heart HENRY COLBURN human idea idle imagination impressions indifference instance JOHN EVELYN labour live London look Lord Lord Byron Lord Castlereagh Lord Keppel mean MEMOIRS ment mind moral nature ness never Northcote object opinion organ ourselves pain painter painting particular passion person picture pleasure poet poetry Portraits pretend PRINCE HOARE principle prose racter Raphael reason Rembrandt Scots wha hae seems sense sentiment Shakespear Sir Joshua sitter sleep sort speak spirit spleen Spurzheim style talk taste thing thought throw tion Titian truth turn understanding vanity vols words write
Popular passages
Page 144 - As fast as they are made, forgot as soon As done : Perseverance, dear my lord, Keeps honour bright : To have done, is to hang Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail In monumental mockery.
Page 145 - O'er-run and trampled on: then what they do in present, Though less than yours in past, must o'ertop yours ; For time is like a fashionable host That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand, And with his arms outstretch'd, as he would fly, Grasps in the comer : the welcome ever smiles, And farewell goes out sighing.
Page 171 - Say, Father Thames, for thou hast seen Full many a sprightly race Disporting on thy margent green The paths of pleasure trace; Who foremost now delight to cleave With pliant arm, thy glassy wave? The captive linnet which enthral? What idle progeny succeed To chase the rolling circle's speed, Or urge the flying ball?
Page 411 - And time and place are lost: where eldest Night And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold Eternal Anarchy, amidst the noise Of endless wars, and by confusion stand. For Hot, Cold, Moist, and Dry, four champions fierce Strive here for mastery...
Page 145 - ... hand, And with his arms outstretch'd, as he would fly, Grasps in the comer: welcome ever smiles, And farewell goes out sighing. O ! let not virtue seek Remuneration for the thing it was ; For beauty, wit, High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all To envious and calumniating time. One touch of nature makes the whole world kin...
Page 406 - Wharton, the scorn and wonder of our days, Whose ruling passion was the lust of praise ; Born with whate'er could win it from the wise, 'Women and fools must like him, or he dies : Though wondering senates hung on all he spoke, The club must hail him master of the joke.
Page 320 - Your worth and virtue ; and, as I did grow More and more apprehensive, I did thirst To see the man so praised. But yet all this Was but a maiden-longing, to be lost As soon as found ; till, sitting in my window, Printing my thoughts in lawn, I saw a god, I thought, (but it was you,) enter our gates : My blood flew out and back again, as fast As I had puffed it forth and sucked it in Like breath : then was I called away in haste To entertain you.
Page 293 - Return, Alpheus, the dread voice is past That shrunk thy streams ; return, Sicilian Muse, And call the vales, and bid them hither cast Their bells and flowerets of a thousand hues.
Page 135 - The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion ; the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colors and their forms were then to me An appetite: a feeling and a love, That had no need of a remoter charm, By thought supplied, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye.
Page 144 - For honour travels in a strait so narrow Where one but goes abreast : keep, then, the path ; For emulation hath a thousand sons That one by one pursue : if you give way, Or hedge aside from the direct forthright, Like to an enter'd tide, they all rush by And leave YOU hindmost : Or, like a gallant horse fall'n in first rank, Lie there for pavement to the abject rear, O'errun and trampled on : then what they do in present, Though less than yours in past, must o'ertop yours.