The history of Henry Esmond, esq., written by himself. (By W.M. Thackeray).

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第 108 頁 - December — it is your birthday! But last year we did not drink it — no, no. My lord was cold, and my Harry was likely to die; and my brain was in a fever; and we had no wine. But now — now you are come again, bringing your sheaves with you, my dear.
第 307 頁 - In this accomplished lady, love is the constant effect, because it is never the design. Yet, though her mien carries much more invitation than command, to behold her is an immediate check to loose behaviour; and to love her is a liberal education...
第 157 頁 - Perhaps he could not have been the great man he was, had lie had a heart either for love or hatred, or pity or fear, or regret or remorse. He achieved the highest deed of daring, or deepest calculation of thought, a"s he performed the very meanest action of which...
第 107 頁 - And to-day, Henry, in the anthem, when they sang it, " When the Lord turned the captivity of Zion, we were like them that dream," I thought, yes, like them that dream — them that dream.
第 159 頁 - But yet those of the army, who knew him best and had suffered most from him, admired him most of all; and as he rode along the lines to battle or galloped up in the nick of time to a battalion reeling from before the enemy's charge or shot, the fainting men and officers got new courage as they saw the splendid calm of his face, and felt that his will made them irresistible.
第 116 頁 - ... shape was perfect symmetry, health, decision, activity, whose foot as it planted itself on the ground, was firm but flexible, and whose motion, whether rapid or slow, was always perfect grace — agile as a nymph, lofty as a queen — now melting, now imperious, now sarcastic, there was no single movement of hers but was beautiful. As he thinks of her, he who writes feels young again, and remembers a paragon.
第 115 頁 - She was a brown beauty; that is, her eyes, hair, and eyebrows and eyelashes were dark, her hair curling with rich undulations and waving over her shoulders; but her complexion was as dazzling white as snow in sunshine, except her cheeks which were a bright red, and her lips which were of a still deeper crimson. Her mouth and chin, they said, were too large...

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