I thought I loved him when he went away; I love him now in another degree: he is more my own. [ . . . ] Oh! a thousand weepers, praying in agony on waiting shores, listened for that voice, but it was...
The spring which moved my energies lay far away beyond seas, in an Indian isle.
Come, Paul! she reiterated, her eye grazing me with its hard ray like a steel stylet. She pushed against her kinsman. I thought he receded; I thought he would go. Pierced deeper than I could endure, m...
It was in looking up at him her aspect had caught its lustre - the light repeated in her eyes beamed first out of his.
Whatever the cause, I could not meet his sunshine with cloud. If this were my last moment with him, I would not waste it in forced, unnatural distance. I loved him well - too well not to smite out of...
I doubt if I have made the best use of all my calamities. Soft, amiable natures they would have refined to saintliness; of strong, evil spirits they would have made demons; as for me, I have only been...
Your dress is thin, you have been dancing, you are heated. Always preaching, retorted she; always coddling and admonishing. The answer Dr. John would have given did not come; that his heart was hurt b...
Graham’s thoughts of me were not entirely those of a frozen indifference, after all. I believe in that goodly mansion, his heart, he kept one little place under the skylights where Lucy might have ent...
His veins were dark with a vivid belladonna tincture, the essence of jealousy.
But if I feel, may I never express? Never! declared Reason.I groaned under her bitter sternness. Never - never - oh, hard word! This hag, this Reason, would not let me look up, or smile, or hope; she...
Who told you I was called Carl David? A little bird, Monsieur. Does it fly from me to you? Then one can tie a message under its wing when needful.
But afterwards, is there nothing more for me in life - no true home - nothing to be dearer to me than myself?
This harsh little man — this pitiless censor — gathers up all your poor scattered sins of vanity, your luckless chiffon of rose- color, your small fringe of a wreath, your small scrap of ribbon, your...
Where my soul went during that swoon I cannot tell. Whatever she saw, or wherever she travelled in her trance on that strange night she kept her own secret; never whispering a word to Memory, and baff...
The charm of variety there was not, nor the excitement of incident; but I liked peace so well, and sought stimulus so little, that when the latter came I almost felt it a disturbance, and rather still...