Sketches by Boz: Illustrative of Every-day Life and Every-day People

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J.B.Lippincott & Company, 1885 - 303 pages
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Page 367 - I am the Resurrection and the Life, saith the Lord : he that believeth in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live : and whosoever liveth and believeth in Me shall never die.
Page 369 - It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done ; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.
Page 7 - A WONDERFUL fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other. A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city by night, that every one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret; that every room in every one of them encloses its own secret; that every beating heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there is, in some of its imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it!
Page 319 - A verb is a word which signifies to be, to do, or to suffer ; as, I am — I rule — I am ruled.
Page 216 - Reflect upon your present blessings — of which every man has many — not on your past misfortunes, of which all men have some. Fill your glass again, with a merry face and contented heart. Our life on it, but your Christmas shall be merry, and your new year a happy one ! Who can be insensible to the outpourings of good feeling, and the honest interchange of affectionate attachment, which abound at this season of the year ? A Christmas...
Page 74 - ... on the trial — evoke this condition from the depths of his soul, it was also in its nature to arise of itself, and to draw a gloom over him, as incomprehensible to those unacquainted with his story as if they had seen the shadow of the actual Bastille thrown upon him by a summer sun, when the substance was three hundred miles away.
Page 363 - ALONG THE Paris streets, the death-carts rumble, hollow and harsh. Six tumbrils carry the day's wine to La Guillotine. All the devouring and insatiate Monsters imagined since imagination could record itself, are fused in the one realisation.
Page 271 - There could not be fewer than five hundred people, and they were dancing like five thousand demons. There was no other music than their own singing. They danced to the popular Revolution song, keeping a ferocious time that was like a gnashing of teeth in unison.
Page 495 - And now the long-forgotten scenes of a mis-spent life crowded thick and fast upon him. He thought of the time when he had a home — a happy, cheerful home — and of those who peopled it, and flocked about him then, until the forms of his elder children seemed to rise from the grave, and stand about him — so plain, so clear, and so distinct they were, that he could touch and feel them.

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