Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott, Bart, Volume 9

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Page 82 - Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead Are but as pictures; 'tis the eye of childhood That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed, I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal; For it must seem their guilt.
Page 27 - Doeg, though without knowing how or why, Made still a blundering kind of melody; Spurred boldly on, and dashed through thick and thin. Through sense and nonsense, never out nor in...
Page 7 - I think, I still have over all of them. They may do their fooling with better grace ; but I, like Sir Andrew Aguecheek, do it more natural. They have to read old books and consult antiquarian collections to get their information ; I write because I have long since read such works, and possess, thanks to a strong memory, the information which they have to seek for.
Page 86 - Mseviad squabashed at one blow a set of coxcombs, who might have humbugged the world long enough. As a commentator he was capital, could he but have suppressed his rancours against those who had preceded him in the task ; but a misconstruction or misinterpretation, nay, the misplacing of a comma, was in Gifford's eyes a crime worthy of the most severe animadversion.
Page 141 - ... peculiarities of dress and posture of the illustrious poet. Sensible, however, of the delusion, he felt no sentiment save that of wonder...
Page 216 - I was strangely haunted by what I would call the sense of pre-existence — viz. a con• ie Forty pages of print, or very nearly. fused idea that nothing that passed was said for the first time — that the same topics had been discussed, and the same persons had stated the same opinions on them.
Page 251 - The principal part of the house has been destroyed, and only the kitchen remains standing. The garden has been dismantled, though a few laurels and flowering-shrubs, run wild, continue to mark the spot. The fatal pond is now only a green swamp, but so near the house that one cannot conceive how it was ever chosen as a place of temporary concealment for the murdered body.
Page 221 - I do not know anything which relieves the mind so much from the sullens as trifling discussions about antiquarian old womanries. It is like knitting a stocking, diverting the mind without occupying it.
Page 237 - ... the champions of the Cockney school, and is now disposed to renounce them and their opinions. To this kind of conversation I did not give much way. A painter should have nothing to do with politics. He is certainly a clever fellow, but too enthusiastic, which, however, distress seems to have cured in some degree.
Page 126 - Tower -as on former occasions; this is a falling off, for when before did I remain sitting below when there was a steeple to be ascended ? But the rheumatism has begun to...

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