Co mówią ludzie - Napisz recenzję
Nie znaleziono żadnych recenzji w standardowych lokalizacjach.
Inne wydania - Wyświetl wszystko
according action adjective adverbs asserted attribute become belong better boys Brutus called cause century clause combined compared compound compound sentence conjugation conjunctions connected construction copula definite denote Determine direct elements ending example EXERCISE express fact fell following sentences frequently future gerund give given green idea illustrate independent indicative infinitive inflections interrogative introduce kind language limits live looked meaning merely mind mode modifiers mountain never noun noun clause object Old English original participle passive past participle past tense perfect person plural points possessive predicate preposition present principal pronouns rain relation relative pronouns seen Sing singular sometimes sound speak speech studied subject of thought subjunctive subordinate task tell thing thou thought told transitive verb tree usually verb phrases verbals words write
Strona 81 - Romans, countrymen, and lovers! hear me for my cause ; and be silent that you may hear : believe me for mine honour; and have respect to mine honour, that you may believe: censure me in your wisdom; and awake your senses that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Caesar's, to him I say, that Brutus' love to Caesar was no less than his.
Strona 75 - ... swelling up to a noble height, and lording it over the surrounding country. Every change of season, every change of weather, indeed, every hour of the day, produces some change in the magical hues and shapes of these mountains, and they are regarded by all the good wives, far and near, as perfect barometers. When the weather is fair and settled, they are clothed in blue and purple and print their bold outlines on the clear evening sky; but sometimes when the rest of the landscape is cloudless,...
Strona 82 - Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them ; The good is oft interred with their bones ; So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus Hath told you Caesar was ambitious : If it were so, it was a grievous fault ; And grievously hath Caesar answer'd it. Here, under leave of Brutus, and the rest, (For Brutus is an honourable man ; So are they all, all honourable men ;) COme I to speak in Csesar's funeral.
Strona 80 - Such a spirit is Liberty. At times she takes the form of a hateful reptile. She grovels, she hisses, she stings. But woe to those who in disgust shall venture to crush her! And happy are those who, having dared to receive her in her degraded and frightful shape, shall at length be rewarded by her in the time of her beauty and her glory ! 70.
Strona 81 - Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world Like a Colossus, and we petty men "Walk under his huge legs and peep about To find ourselves dishonourable graves. Men at some time are masters of their fates : The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
Strona 82 - Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; •> I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil, that men do, lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones; \ So let it be with Caesar.
Strona 33 - The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark, When neither is attended ; and, I think The nightingale, if she should sing by day, When every goose is cackling, would be thought No better a musician than the wren.
Strona 80 - Insist on yourself ; never imitate. Your own gift you can present every moment with the cumulative force of a whole life's cultivation ; but of the adopted talent of another you have only an extemporaneous half possession. That which each can do best, none but his Maker can teach him.
Strona 76 - The moon above the eastern wood Shone at its full; the hill-range stood Transfigured in the silver flood, Its blown snows flashing cold and keen, Dead white, save where some sharp ravine Took shadow, or the sombre green Of hemlocks turned to pitchy black Against the whiteness at their back.