Mary LambRoberts Brothers, 1883 - 336 pages |
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
ANNE GILCHRIST beautiful Bernard Barton Burney called CHAPTER Charles and Mary Charles Lamb Charles Lloyd cheerful child Coleridge comfort Crabb Robinson dead dear death Dorothy Wordsworth Emily Brontë eyes face Famous Women Series fancy farce father fear feel gentle George Eliot George Sand girl give Godwin hand happy Hazlitt hear heard heart hope John Lamb kind lady Lamb's Leicester's School live lodgings London look Mary Lamb Mary's MATHILDE BLIND memory mind mother needlework Nether Stowey never night once pleasant pleasure poem poor pretty quiet reader recollection ROBERTS BROTHERS Sara Stoddart seems soul spirits Starkey story sweet Tales from Shakespeare Talfourd talk tell tender thank thing thou thought tion walk week William Hazlitt Winterslow wish woman words Wordsworth write written wrote young
Popular passages
Page 10 - My poor dear, dearest sister, in a fit of insanity, has been the death of her own mother. I was at hand only time enough to snatch the knife out of her grasp. She is at present in a madhouse, from whence I fear she must be moved to an hospital.
Page 260 - I wish the good old times would come again," she said, " when we were not quite so rich. I do not mean, that I want to be poor ; but there was a middle state ; " — so she was pleased to ramble on, — " in which I am sure we were a great deal happier.
Page 244 - I was lame-footed; and how when he died, though he had not been dead an hour, it seemed as if he had died a great while ago, such a distance there is betwixt life and death...
Page 266 - Now we have no reckoning at all at the end of the old year — no flattering promises about the new year doing better for us." Bridget is so sparing of her speech on most occasions that when she gets into a rhetorical vein, I am careful how I interrupt it. I could not help, however, smiling at the phantom of wealth which her dear imagination had conjured up out of a clear income of a poor — hundred pounds a year.
Page 11 - Mention nothing of poetry. I have destroyed every vestige of past vanities of that kind. Do as you please, but if you publish, publish mine (I give free leave) without name or initial, and never send me a book, I charge you. Your own judgment will convince you not to take any notice of this yet to your dear wife. You look after your family; I have my reason and strength left to take care of mine. I charge you, don't think of coming to see me. Write. I will not see you if you come. God Almighty love...
Page 11 - I fear she must be moved to an hospital. God has preserved to me my senses — I eat and drink and sleep, and have my judgment I believe very sound.
Page 267 - ... with us are long since passed away. Competence to age is supplementary youth ; a sorry supplement indeed, but I fear the best that is to be had. We must ride where we formerly walked : live better and lie softer — and shall be wise to do so — than we had means to do in those good old days you speak of.
Page 263 - I used to deposit our day's fare of savory cold lamb and salad ; and how you would pry about at noontide for some decent house where we might go in and produce our store, only paying for the ale that you must call for ; and speculate upon the looks of the landlady, and whether she was likely to allow us a table-cloth ; and wish for such another honest hostess as Izaak Walton has described many a one on the pleasant banks of the Lea...
Page 41 - I am going to change my lodgings, having received a hint that it would be agreeable, at our Lady's next feast. I have partly fixed upon most delectable rooms, which look out (when you stand a tip-toe) over the Thames and Surrey Hills; at the upper end of King's Bench Walks, in the Temple. There I shall have all the privacy of a house without the encumbrance, and shall be able to lock my friends out as often as I desire to hold free converse with my immortal mind; for my present lodgings resemble...
Page 50 - I must touch upon the foibles of my kinswoman with a gentle hand, for Bridget does not like to be told of her faults. She hath an awkward trick (to say no worse of it) of reading in company: at which times she will answer yes or no to a question without fully understanding its purport — which is provoking, and derogatory in the highest degree to the dignity of the putter of the said question.