Memoirs of a Manager: Or, Life's Stage with New Scenery, Volume 1

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W. Bragg, 1830 - 178 páginas
 

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Página 74 - My sledge and hammer lie reclined, My bellows, too, have lost their wind; . My fire's extinct, my forge decayed, And in the dust my vice is laid. My coal is spent, my iron's gone, My nails are drove, my work is done ; My fire-dried corpse lies here at rest, And, smoke-like, soars up to be bless'd.
Página 120 - There is a tide in the affairs of man Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; Omitted, all the voyage of their life is spent In shallows and miseries.
Página 51 - ... scribbler, if ever there was one. He begins his recollections by telling the reader that ' he has known no regularity . . . his journey has been, like the comet's — eccentric '. Here is a self-revealing passage : I had imbibed early in life a taste of a romantic kind ; — a passion, perhaps common amongst young men whose minds are somewhat ardent, or in any degree enterprising. I had conceived a desire of notice, of notoriety of some kind or other. If not talented, so as to be capable of obtaining...
Página 82 - I'm each apartment seeking, But noxious vapours every where are reeking ! Put to strange shifts, and numerous shifts while trying, I'm shivering wet, while all things round are drying. 'Tis worse, far worse, than standing with bare feet. At Christmas, doing penance in a sheet ! I pace the garden, heavy as a sledge, " Linen (as Falstaff says) on every hedge.
Página 18 - What a piece of work is man ! ... in action how like an angel, in apprehension, how like a god !
Página 126 - CAT — (notwith^anding its nine lives !) could not have lived long in such an exhausted atmosphere. I say exhausted, because there was no vital air, no oxygen, left unconsumed within it. As to the crowd at the top of the stairs, life was sustained in them only by the occasional whiffs of pure [air that came up from the gallery door- way.
Página 84 - ... upon the lady, and perhaps is the only part of her conduct that is reprehensible ; for, say what we will, if she did not mean to give his passion a suitable return, why did she feed him with hopes even to the last ?— for was not this feeding him with hopes?— false hopes...
Página 84 - ... which she happened just then to be using-, her left hand being thrust into a silk stocking, with a new Whitechapel needle stuck therein This peculiar incident was categorically noticed at the coroner's inquest, and considered of very material consequence : The lady however not relaxing in her cruelly, Mr. Bateman's
Página 83 - This gentleman, a pattern to all true lovers— suspended himself from the bough of a tree, in the garden belonging to the young lady who was the object of his passion. Mr. Bateman's biographers differ in one...
Página 84 - Alas ! alas ! Mr. Bateman (like most lovers) argued wrongly ! Poor dear man ! He remains a memorable example of illfated love, and his mistress a remarkable instance of implacable cruelty !_Mr.

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