“Never heard of her.”
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With that the chief the tender victims slew, And in the dust their bleeding bodies threw; The vital spirit issued at the wound, And left the members quivering on the ground. From the same urn they drink the mingled wine, And add libations to the powers divine. While thus their prayers united mount the sky, “Hear, mighty Jove! and hear, ye gods on high! And may their blood, who first the league confound, Shed like this wine, disdain the thirsty ground; May all their consorts serve promiscuous lust, And all their lust be scatter’d as the dust!” Thus either host their imprecations join’d, Which Jove refused, and mingled with the wind.
“I am, sir, if it should be positively indispensable to do so; not to be got rid of, that is; which I don’t take to be the fact.”
Moby-Dick — Chapter 14: Wheelbarrow
“Don’t run down dyed hair and painted faces. There is an extraordinary charm in them, sometimes,” said Lord Henry.
“Sibyl is the only thing I care about. What is it to me where she came from? From her little head to her little feet, she is absolutely and entirely divine. Every night of my life I go to see her act, and every night she is more marvellous.”
At this the hero cast a gloomy look, Fix’d on the chief with scorn; and thus he spoke:
The Picture of Dorian Gray — Chapter 7: Chapter III (part 2/2)
The Picture of Dorian Gray — Chapter 9: Chapter IV (part 2/3)
“If you had,” pursued Mr. Lorry, “perhaps you would attend to it.”
“Nor I, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley.
“Why, blast your eyes, Bildad,” cried Peleg, “thou dost not want to swindle this young man! he must have more than that.”
Now shield with shield, with helmet helmet closed, To armour armour, lance to lance opposed, Host against host with shadowy squadrons drew, The sounding darts in iron tempests flew, Victors and vanquish’d join’d promiscuous cries, And shrilling shouts and dying groans arise; With streaming blood the slippery fields are dyed, And slaughter’d heroes swell the dreadful tide.
“Well, Captain Bildad,” interrupted Peleg, “what d’ye say, what lay shall we give this young man?”
“Fiery pit! fiery pit! ye insult me, man; past all natural bearing, ye insult me. It’s an all-fired outrage to tell any human creature that he’s bound to hell. Flukes and flames! Bildad, say that again to me, and start my soul-bolts, but I’ll—I’ll—yes, I’ll swallow a live goat with all his hair and horns on. Out of the cabin, ye canting, drab-coloured son of a wooden gun—a straight wake with ye!”
Lord Henry laughed. “I don’t desire to change anything in England except the weather,” he answered. “I am quite content with philosophic contemplation. But, as the nineteenth century has gone bankrupt through an over-expenditure of sympathy, I would suggest that we should appeal to science to put us straight. The advantage of the emotions is that they lead us astray, and the advantage of science is that it is not emotional.”
Lord Henry shrugged his shoulders. “That is a rather commonplace début.”
Then the god staid his stream and stilled the waves, making all calm before him, and bringing him safely into the mouth of the river. Here at last Ulysses’ knees and strong hands failed him, for the sea had completely broken him. His body was all swollen, and his mouth and nostrils ran down like a river with sea-water, so that he could neither breathe nor speak, and lay swooning from sheer exhaustion; presently, when he had got his breath and came to himself again, he took off the scarf that Ino had given him and threw it back into the salt54 stream of the river, whereon Ino received it into her hands from the wave that bore it towards her. Then he left the river, laid himself down among the rushes, and kissed the bounteous earth.
“I never saw such a woman. I never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe, united.”
“It must have been just like the palmy days of the British drama.”