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Página 137 - 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. I heard his chains upon his legs as he turned his body to lay his little stick upon the bundle. He gave a deep sigh : I saw the iron enter into his soul. I burst into tears — I could not sustain the picture of confinement...
Página 137 - 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.
Página 132 - Make the most of it you can, said I to myself, the Bastile is but another word for a tower ;— and a tower is but another word for a house you can't get out of. — Mercy on the gouty ! for they are in it twice a year. — But with nine livres a day, and pen and ink and paper and patience, albeit a man can't get out, he may do very well within...
Página 220 - Shorn indeed ! and to the quick," said I ; " and wast thou in my own land, where I have a cottage, I would take thee to it and shelter thee ; thou shouldst eat of my own bread, and drink of my own cup.
Página 136 - I took a single captive; and having first shut him up in his dungeon, I then look'd through the twilight of his grated door to take his picture.
Página 133 - I looked up and down the passage, and seeing neither man, woman, nor child, I went out without further attention. In my return back through the passage, I heard the same words repeated twice over; and looking up, I saw it was a starling hung in a little cage: " I can't get out, I can't get out,
Página 220 - I felt such undescribable emotions within me, as I am sure could not be accounted for from any combinations of matter and motion.
Página 224 - ... mere pomp of words! but that I feel some generous joys and generous cares beyond myself all comes from thee, great great SENSORIUM of the world! which vibrates, if a hair of our heads but falls upon the ground, in the remotest desert of thy creation...