The spring which moved my energies lay far away beyond seas, in an Indian isle.
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...
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...
But afterwards, is there nothing more for me in life - no true home - nothing to be dearer to me than myself?
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...
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.
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...
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...
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...
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.
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...