Quick Excerpts, from a Library of 492 Titles

Generated 2022-07-28 13:26:38

Excerpt #1, from The Poetics of Aristotle, by Aristotle

…irrational parts. Everything irrational should, if possible, be excluded; or, at all events, it should lie outside the action of the play (as, in the Oedipus, the hero’s ignorance as to the manner of Laius’ death); not within the drama,–as in the Electra, the messenger’s account of the Pythian games; or, as in the Mysians, the man who has come from Tegea to Mysia and is still speechless. The plea that otherwise the plot would have been ruined, is ridiculous; such a plot should not in the first instance be constructed. But once the irrational has been introduced and an air of likelihood imparted to it, we must accept it in spite of the absurdity. Take even the irrational incidents in the Odyssey, where Odysseus is left upon the shore of Ithaca. How intolerable even these might have been would be apparent if an inferior poet were to treat the subject. As it is, the absurdity is veiled by the poetic charm with which the poet invests it. The diction should be elaborated in the pauses of the action, where there is no expression of character or thought. For, conversely, character and thought are merely obscured by a diction that is over brilliant. XXV With respect to critical difficulties and their solutions, the number and nature of the sources from which they may be drawn may be thus…

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Excerpt #2, from The Wonderful Adventures of Nils, by Selma Lagerlöf

…settled within the walls of the city where they pulled down the wretched little cabins that stood there and built high, magnificent stone houses. But space was not plentiful within the walls, therefore they had to build the houses close together, with gables facing the narrow by-lanes. So you see, Clement, that Stockholm could attract people!" At this point in the narrative another gentleman appeared and walked rapidly down the path toward the man who was talking to Clement, but he waved his hand, and the other remained at a distance. The dignified old gentleman still sat on the bench beside the fiddler. “Now, Clement, you must render me a service,” he said. "I have no time to talk more with you, but I will send you a book about Stockholm and you must read it from cover to cover. I have, so to speak, laid the foundations of Stockholm for you. Study the rest out for yourself and learn how the city has thrived and changed. Read how the little, narrow, wall-enclosed city on the islands has spread into this great sea of houses below us. Read how, on the spot where the dark tower Kärnan once stood, the beautiful, light castle below us was erected and how the Gray Friars’ church has been turned into the burial place of the Swedish kings; read how islet after islet was built up with factories; how the ridge was lowered and the sound filled in; how the truck gardens at the south and north ends of the city have been converted into beautiful…

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Excerpt #3, from Essays, by Ralph Waldo Emerson, by Ralph Waldo Emerson

…furnish him with one good thought or happy expression; but it is necessary to write a letter to a friend, and, forthwith, troops of gentle thoughts invest themselves, on every hand, with chosen words. See in any house where virtue and self-respect abide, the palpitation which the approach of a stranger causes. A commended stranger is expected and announced, and an uneasiness between pleasure and pain invades all the hearts of a household. His arrival almost brings fear to the good hearts that would welcome him. The house is dusted, all things fly into their places, the old coat is exchanged for the new, and they must get up a dinner if they can. Of a commended stranger, only the good report is told by others, only the good and new is heard by us. He stands to us for humanity. He is, what we wish. Having imagined and invested him, we ask how we should stand related in conversation and action with such a man, and are uneasy with fear. The same idea exalts conversation with him. We talk better than we are wont. We have the nimblest fancy, a richer memory, and our dumb devil has taken leave for the time. For long hours we can continue a series of sincere, graceful, rich communications, drawn from the oldest, secretest experience, so that they who sit by, of our own kinsfolk and acquaintance, shall feel a lively surprise at our unusual powers. But as soon as the stranger begins to intrude his partialities, his…

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Excerpt #4, from A Humorous History of England, by Charles Harrison

…Wat Tyler and Jack Straw at head. Præmunire Præmunire Act is passed To check the Papal Bulls at last. Chaucer Chaucer the Poet this same year Makes Pilgrimage to Becket’s bier. [Illustration: FORTES FORTUNA JUVAT. IRON JELLOIDS The Great Tonic] Age of This was the age, aye verily, Chivalry Of ryghte goode noble chivalry, When Knights went forth through storm and stress To rescue beauty in distress. [Illustration: IRON JELLOIDS The Great Tonic.] Or sallied out in valiant way A monster dragon for to slay, Or with lance or trusty blade Defend from harm the hapless maid. Henry IV. Henry Four, called ‘Bolingbroke’ 1399-1413 In Richard’s wheel puts many a spoke; Compels him to resign the throne Which thereupon he makes his own. Through John of Gaunt, Lancastrian famed,…

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Excerpt #5, from Esperanto Self

…London market | Londona vendado | londoh’na vendah’doh market-day | vendeja tago | vendeh’yah ta’go market dues | vendejaj impostoj | vendeh’yahy impos’toy market price | vendeja prezo | vendeh’yah preh’zo not negotiable | nenegocebla | neh-nehgoht-seh’blah offer for sale, to | elmeti al vendo | elmeh’tee al vehn’doh office | oficejo | ofitseh’yo order, to (goods) | mendi | mehn’dee packing | pakado | pahkah’doh partner | partisto | pahrtist’o payable | pagebla | pa-geh’blah port of delivery | livera haveno | livehr’ah haveh’no preference shares | preferencaj akcioj | prefehrent’sahy | | ahk-tsee’oy prepaid | afrankita | afrahn-kee’ta price | prezo | preh’zo price-list | prezaro | prehzahr’o quarantine | kvaranteno | kvarahn-teh’no quotation (of | prezpropono | prehz’prohpo’no price) | | rate of interest | procento | prohtsehn’toh…

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Excerpt #6, from Mr. Midshipman Easy, by Frederick Marryat

…when I tell him of this new way of fighting a duel!" “Yes, sir, it is just the thing that will tickle old Tom.” “We must find out if they have got off the island, Sawbridge, which may not be the case.” But it was the case. Jack and Gascoigne had eaten a very good dinner, sent for the monkey to amuse them till it was dark, and there had waited till the padrone came to them. “What shall we do with the pistols, Easy?” “Take them with us, and load them before we go–we may want them: who knows but there may be a mutiny on board of the speronare?–I wish we had Mesty with us.” They loaded the pistols, took a pair each and put them in their waists, concealed under their clothes–divided the ammunition between them, and soon afterwards the padrone came to tell them all was ready. Whereupon Messrs. Gascoigne and Easy paid their bill and rose to depart, but the padrone informed them that he should like to see the colour of their money before they went on board. Jack, very indignant at the insinuation that he had not sufficient cash, pulled out a handful of doubloons, and tossing two to the padrone, asked him if he was satisfied. The padrone untied his sash, put in the money, and with many thanks and…

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Excerpt #7, from In the Sargasso Sea, by Thomas A. Janvier

…explanations (for I suppose that to him, with his rule-of-thumb knowledge of mathematics, the matter seemed complex), and still more surprised when he found, presently, that I really understood the underlying principle of this simple bit of seamanship far better than he did himself. He said that I knew more than most of the captains afloat and that I ought to be a sailor; which he meant, no doubt, to be the greatest compliment that he could pay me. After that I took the sights and worked them with him daily; and as I several times corrected his calculations–for even simple addition and subtraction were more than he could manage with certainty–he became so impressed by my knowledge as to treat me with an odd show of respect. But in practical matters–knowledge of men and things, and of the many places about the world which he had seen, and of the management of a ship in all weathers–he was one of the best-informed men that ever I came across: being naturally of a hard-headed make, with great acuteness of observation, and with quick and sound reasoning powers. I found his talk always worth listening to; and I liked nothing better than to sit beside him, or to walk the deck with him, while we smoked our pipes together and he told me in his shrewd way about one queer thing and another which he had come upon in various parts of the world–for he had followed the sea from the time that he was a boy,…

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Excerpt #8, from Julius Caesar, by William Shakespeare

…Ay, and briefly. FOURTH CITIZEN…. Ay, and wisely. THIRD CITIZEN. Ay, and truly, you were best. CINNA. What is my name? Whither am I going? Where do I dwell? Am I a married man or a bachelor? Then, to answer every man directly and briefly, wisely and truly. Wisely I say I am a bachelor. SECOND CITIZEN. That’s as much as to say they are fools that marry; you’ll bear me a bang for that, I fear. Proceed, directly. CINNA. Directly, I am going to Caesar’s funeral. FIRST CITIZEN. As a friend, or an enemy? CINNA. As a friend. SECOND CITIZEN. That matter is answered directly. FOURTH CITIZEN….

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Excerpt #9, from Bushido, the Soul of Japan, by Inazo Nitobe

…grace to manners; but its function does not stop here. For propriety, springing as it does from motives of benevolence and modesty, and actuated by tender feelings toward the sensibilities of others, is ever a graceful expression of sympathy. Its requirement is that we should weep with those that weep and rejoice with those that rejoice. Such didactic requirement, when reduced into small every-day details of life, expresses itself in little acts scarcely noticeable, or, if noticed, is, as one missionary lady of twenty years’ residence once said to me, “awfully funny.” You are out in the hot glaring sun with no shade over you; a Japanese acquaintance passes by; you accost him, and instantly his hat is off–well, that is perfectly natural, but the “awfully funny” performance is, that all the while he talks with you his parasol is down and he stands in the glaring sun also. How foolish!–Yes, exactly so, provided the motive were less than this: “You are in the sun; I sympathize with you; I would willingly take you under my parasol if it were large enough, or if we were familiarly acquainted; as I cannot shade you, I will share your discomforts.” Little acts of this kind, equally or more amusing, are not mere gestures or conventionalities. They are the “bodying forth” of thoughtful feelings for the comfort of others. Another “awfully funny” custom is dictated by our canons of Politeness;…

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Excerpt #10, from Ethics, by Benedictus de Spinoza

…Emotion, which is called a passivity of the soul, is a confused idea, whereby the mind affirms concerning its body, or any part thereof, a force for existence (existendi vis) greater or less than before, and by the presence of which the mind is determined to think of one thing rather than another. Explanation–I say, first, that emotion or passion of the soul is a confused idea. For we have shown that the mind is only passive, in so far as it has inadequate or confused ideas. (III. iii.) I say, further, whereby the mind affirms concerning its body or any part thereof a force for existence greater than before. For all the ideas of bodies, which we possess, denote rather the actual disposition of our own body (II. xvi. Coroll. ii.) than the nature of an external body. But the idea which constitutes the reality of an emotion must denote or express the disposition of the body, or of some part thereof, because its power of action or force for existence is increased or diminished, helped or hindered. But it must be noted that, when I say a greater or less force for existence than before, I do not mean that the mind compares the present with the past disposition of the body, but that the idea which constitutes the reality of an emotion affirms something of the body, which, in fact,…

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Excerpt #11, from In Great Waters: Four Stories, by Thomas A. Janvier

…close over beyond a still sea and a sun-bright sky a storm is cooking up that will kill him if it can. And even when he feels the coming of it–if he be well to seaward, or if he be tempted by the fish being plenty and by the bareness of his own pockets to hold on in the face of it–he must have more in his head than any coast pilot has if he is to win home to Yarmouth Harbour or to Lowestoft Roads. For God in his cruelty has set more traps to kill seafarers off this easterly outjut of England, I do believe, than He has set anywhere else in all the world: there being from Covehithe Ness northward to the Winterton Overfalls nothing but a maze of deadly shoals–all cut up by channels in which there is no sea-room–that fairly makes you queazy to think about when you are coming shoreward in a northeast gale. And as if that were not enough to make sure of man-food for the fishes, the currents that swirl and play among these shoals are up to some fresh wickedness with every hour of the tide-run and with every half shift of wind. Whether you make in for Yarmouth by Hemesby Hole to the north, or by the Hewett Channel to the south, or split the difference by running through Caister Road, it is all one: twisting about the Overfalls and the Middle Cross Sand and the South Scroby, there the currents are. What they will be doing with you, or how they will be doing it, you can’t even make a good guess at; all that you can know for certain…

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Excerpt #12, from Famous Modern Ghost Stories, by Dorothy Scarborough et al.

…The gendarme, Durand, also sat down, twisting his mustache into needlelike points. Fortin leaned against the cliff, polishing his glasses and examining us with vague, near-sighted eyes; and Le Bihan, the mayor, planted himself in our midst, rolling up the scroll and tucking it under his arm. “First of all,” he began in a shrill voice, “I am going to light my pipe, and while lighting it I shall tell you what I have heard about the attack on the fort yonder. My father told me; his father told him.” He jerked his head in the direction of the ruined fort, a small, square stone structure on the sea cliff, now nothing but crumbling walls. Then he slowly produced a tobacco pouch, a bit of flint and tinder, and a long-stemmed pipe fitted with a microscopical bowl of baked clay. To fill such a pipe requires ten minutes’ close attention. To smoke it to a finish takes but four puffs. It is very Breton, this Breton pipe. It is the crystallization of everything Breton. “Go on,” said I, lighting a cigarette. “The fort,” said the mayor, "was built by Louis XIV, and was dismantled twice by the English. Louis XV restored it in 1730. In 1760 it was carried by assault by the English. They came across from the island of Groix–three shiploads, and they stormed the fort and sacked St. Julien yonder, and they started to burn St. Gildas–you can see the marks of…

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