Life of Goethe, by G.H. Lewes

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第 326 頁 - Perplext in faith, but pure in deeds, At last he beat his music out. There lives more faith in honest doubt, Believe me, than in half the creeds.
第 259 頁 - How am I glutted with conceit of this! Shall I make spirits fetch me what I please, Resolve me of all ambiguities, Perform what desperate enterprise I will? I'll have them fly to India for gold, Ransack the ocean for orient pearl, And search all corners of the new-found world For pleasant fruits and princely délicates; I'll have them read me strange philosophy And tell the secrets of all foreign kings...
第 256 頁 - There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, The earth, and every common sight, To me did seem Apparelled in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream. It is not now as it hath been of yore; — Turn wheresoe'er I may, By night or day, The things which I have seen I now can see no more.
第 256 頁 - The child is father of the man: And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by naturai piety.' [THERE was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, The earth, and every common sight, To me did seem Apparelled in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream.
第 325 頁 - Mein Glaube. Welche Religion ich bekenne? Keine von allen, Die du mir nennst! — Und warum keine? Aus Religion.
第 75 頁 - Geheimnisvoll am lichten Tag, Läßt sich Natur des Schleiers nicht berauben, Und was sie deinem Geist nicht offenbaren mag, Das zwingst du ihr nicht ab mit Hebeln und mit Schrauben.
第 379 頁 - Rauch's statuette. His complexion was very bright, clear, and rosy. His eyes extraordinarily dark,* piercing and brilliant. I felt quite afraid before them, and recollect comparing them to the eyes of the hero of a certain romance called
第 32 頁 - I am a part of all that I have met; Yet all experience is an arch wherethrough Gleams that untravelled world, whose margin fades For ever and for ever when I move.
第 381 頁 - With a five-and-twenty years' experience since those happy days of which I write, and an acquaintance with an immense variety of human kind, I think I have never seen a society more simple, charitable, courteous, gentlemanlike than that of the dear little Saxon city, where the good Schiller and the great Goethe lived and lie buried.
第 358 頁 - Merciful heaven! What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows; Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak Whispers the o'erfraught heart, and bids it break.

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