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Strona 295 - I saw him pale and feverish ; in thirty years the western breeze had not once fanned his blood ; he had seen no sun, no moon, in all that time, nor had the voice of friend or kinsman breathed through his lattice ; his children — but here my heart began to bleed, and I was forced to go on with another part of the portrait.
Strona 222 - Who hath woe ? who hath sorrow ? who hath contentions? who hath babbling? who hath wounds without cause ? who hath redness of eyes ? They that tarry long at the wine ; they that go to seek mixed wine.
Strona 295 - I took a single captive, and having first shut him up in his dungeon, I then looked through the twilight of his grated door to take his picture.
Strona 222 - Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth its colour in the cup, when it moveth itself aright : At the last it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder.
Strona 222 - When thou sittest to eat with a ruler, consider diligently what is before thee: and put a knife to thy throat, if thou be a man given to appetite.
Strona 222 - Woe unto them that are mighty to drink wine, and men of strength to mingle strong drink: Which justify the wicked for reward, and take away the righteousness of the righteous from him!
Strona 130 - ... by voluntary aggravations. We may charge to design the effects of accident; we may think the blow violent only...
Strona 295 - He had one of these little sticks in his hand, and with a rusty nail he was etching another day of misery to add to the heap. As I darkened the little light he had, he lifted up a hopeless eye towards the door, then cast it down, shook his head, and went on with his work of affliction.