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Página 383 - I thought I saw Elizabeth, in the bloom of health, walking in the streets of Ingolstadt. Delighted and surprised, I embraced her ; but as I imprinted the first kiss on her lips, they became livid with the hue of death ; her features appeared to change, and I thought that I held the corpse of my dead mother in my arms ; a shroud enveloped her form, and I saw the grave-worms crawling in the folds of the flannel.
Página 382 - His limbs were in proportion and I had selected his features as beautiful. Beautiful!— Great God! His yellow skin scarcely covered the work of muscles and arteries beneath; his hair was of a lustrous black, and flowing; his teeth of a pearly whiteness; but these luxuriances only formed a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes, that seemed almost of the same colour as the dun white sockets in which they were set, his shrivelled complexion and straight black lips.
Página 459 - I have lived long enough : my way of life Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf ; And that which should accompany old age, As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have ; but, in their stead, Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.
Página 196 - I would never convict any person of murder or manslaughter, unless the fact were proved to be done, or at least the body found dead,(/) for the sake of two cases, one mentioned in my lord Coke's PC cap.
Página 383 - I beheld the wretch — the miserable monster whom I had created. He held up the curtain of the bed ; and his eyes, if eyes they may be called, were fixed on me. His jaws opened, and he muttered some inarticulate sounds, while a grin wrinkled his cheeks.
Página 330 - Sleep breathes at last from out thee, My little patient boy ; And balmy rest about thee Smooths off the day's annoy. I sit me down, and think Of all thy winning ways : Yet almost wish, with sudden shrink, That I had less to praise.
Página 463 - Shakespear was no moralist at all : in another, he was the greatest of all moralists. He was a moralist in the same sense in which nature is one. He taught what he had learnt from her. He shewed the greatest knowledge of humanity with the greatest fellow-feeling for it.
Página 331 - His voice — his face — is gone ; " To feel impatient-hearted, Yet feel we must bear on ; Ah, I could not endure To whisper of such woe, Unless I felt this sleep ensure That it will not be so.