Quick Excerpts, from a Library of 492 Titles

Generated 2022-07-28 13:25:30

Excerpt #1, from Dictionary of Quotations from Ancient and Modern, English and Foreign Sources

…With foamy waters on a muddy shore.= Dryden. =More potatoes and fewer potations.= Motto for Working-men. =More servants wait on man / Than he’ll take= 35 =notice of.= George Herbert. =More sinn’d against than sinning.= Lear, iii. 2. =More springs up in the garden than the gardener sows there.= Pr. =More suo=–After his usual manner; as is his wont. =More than all things, avoid fault-finding and a habit of criticism.= Prof. Blackie to young men. =More than kisses letters mingle souls.= Donne. 40 =More than we use is more than we want.= Pr. =More things are wrought by prayer / Than this world dreams of.= Tennyson. =More water glideth by the mill / Than wots the miller of.= Tit. Andron., ii. 1. =Mores amici noveris, non oderis=–Know well, but take no offence at the manners of a friend. Pr.…

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Excerpt #2, from Greenmantle, by John Buchan

…his chest a lot of amazing stuff. I wasn’t there, but a man who was told me that he never heard such clotted nonsense. He said that Germany was right in wanting the freedom of the seas, and that America would back her up, and that the British Navy was a bigger menace to the peace of the world than the Kaiser’s army. He admitted that he had once thought differently, but he was an honest man and not afraid to face facts. The oration closed suddenly, when he got a brussels-sprout in the eye, at which my friend said he swore in a very unpacifist style. After that he wrote other letters to the Press, saying that there was no more liberty of speech in England, and a lot of scallywags backed him up. Some Americans wanted to tar and feather him, and he got kicked out of the Savoy. There was an agitation to get him deported, and questions were asked in Parliament, and the Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs said his department had the matter in hand. I was beginning to think that Blenkiron was carrying his tomfoolery too far, so I went to see Sir Walter, but he told me to keep my mind easy. “Our friend’s motto is ‘Thorough’,” he said, “and he knows very well what he is about. We have officially requested him to leave, and he sails from Newcastle on Monday. He will be shadowed wherever he goes, and we hope to provoke more outbreaks. He is a very capable fellow.” The last I saw of him was on the Saturday afternoon when I met him in…

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Excerpt #3, from A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, by Mark Twain

…suffering; so I was willing to do anything that was reasonable, and had no desire to carry things to wanton extremities. I therefore considered the matter thoughtfully, and ended by having the musicians ordered into our presence to play that Sweet Bye and Bye again, which they did. Then I saw that she was right, and gave her permission to hang the whole band. This little relaxation of sternness had a good effect upon the queen. A statesman gains little by the arbitrary exercise of iron-clad authority upon all occasions that offer, for this wounds the just pride of his subordinates, and thus tends to undermine his strength. A little concession, now and then, where it can do no harm, is the wiser policy. Now that the queen was at ease in her mind once more, and measurably happy, her wine naturally began to assert itself again, and it got a little the start of her. I mean it set her music going–her silver bell of a tongue. Dear me, she was a master talker. It would not become me to suggest that it was pretty late and that I was a tired man and very sleepy. I wished I had gone off to bed when I had the chance. Now I must stick it out; there was no other way. So she tinkled along and along, in the otherwise profound and ghostly hush of the sleeping castle, until by and by there came, as if from deep down under us, a far-away sound, as of a muffled shriek…

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Excerpt #4, from The Moonstone, by Wilkie Collins

…I hurriedly gave Betteredge my address in London, so that he might write to me, if necessary; promising, on my side, to inform him of any news which I might have to communicate. This done, and just as I was bidding him farewell, I happened to glance towards the book-and-newspaper stall. There was Mr. Candy’s remarkable-looking assistant again, speaking to the keeper of the stall! Our eyes met at the same moment. Ezra Jennings took off his hat to me. I returned the salute, and got into a carriage just as the train started. It was a relief to my mind, I suppose, to dwell on any subject which appeared to be, personally, of no sort of importance to me. At all events, I began the momentous journey back which was to take me to Mr. Bruff, wondering—absurdly enough, I admit—that I should have seen the man with the piebald hair twice in one day! The hour at which I arrived in London precluded all hope of my finding Mr. Bruff at his place of business. I drove from the railway to his private residence at Hampstead, and disturbed the old lawyer dozing alone in his dining-room, with his favourite pug-dog on his lap, and his bottle of wine at his elbow. I shall best describe the effect which my story produced on the mind of Mr. Bruff by relating his proceedings when he had heard it to the end. He ordered lights, and strong tea, to be taken into his study; and he…

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Excerpt #5, from Grimms’ Fairy Tales, by Jacob Grimm and Wilhelm Grimm

…he: ‘What a clever Elsie I have; she is so industrious that she does not even come home to eat.’ But when evening came and she still stayed away, Hans went out to see what she had cut, but nothing was cut, and she was lying among the corn asleep. Then Hans hastened home and brought a fowler’s net with little bells and hung it round about her, and she still went on sleeping. Then he ran home, shut the house-door, and sat down in his chair and worked. At length, when it was quite dark, Clever Elsie awoke and when she got up there was a jingling all round about her, and the bells rang at each step which she took. Then she was alarmed, and became uncertain whether she really was Clever Elsie or not, and said: ‘Is it I, or is it not I?’ But she knew not what answer to make to this, and stood for a time in doubt; at length she thought: ‘I will go home and ask if it be I, or if it be not I, they will be sure to know.’ She ran to the door of her own house, but it was shut; then she knocked at the window and cried: ‘Hans, is Elsie within?’ ‘Yes,’ answered Hans, ‘she is within.’ Hereupon she was terrified, and said: ‘Ah, heavens! Then it is not I,’ and went to another door; but when the people heard the jingling of the bells they would not open it, and she could get in nowhere. Then she ran out of the village, and no one has seen her since. THE MISER IN THE BUSH…

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Excerpt #6, from Great Britain and the American Civil War, by Ephraim Douglass Adams

…Thouvenel is of course excepted, but then he has no hostility[610]." But a greater source of Southern hope at this juncture was another “diplomatic adventure,” though by no accredited diplomat, which antedated Mercier’s trip to Richmond and which still agitated not only the Confederate agents, but the British Ministry as well. This was the appearance of the British Member of Parliament, Lindsay, in the rôle of self-constituted Southern emissary to Napoleon. Lindsay, as one of the principal ship-owners in England, had long been an earnest advocate of more free commercial intercourse between nations, supporting in general the principles of Cobden and Bright, and being a warm personal friend of the latter, though disagreeing with him on the American Civil War. He had been in some sense a minor expert consulted by both French and British Governments in the preparation of the commercial treaty of 1860, so that when on April 9 he presented himself to Cowley asking that an audience with the Emperor be procured for him to talk over some needed alterations in the Navigation Laws, the request seemed reasonable, and the interview was arranged for April 11. On the twelfth Lindsay reported to Cowley that the burden of Napoleon’s conversation, much to his surprise, was on American affairs[611]. The Emperor, said Lindsay, expressed the conviction that re-union between North and South was an impossibility, and declared that he was…

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Excerpt #7, from Legends That Every Child Should Know; a Selection of the Great Legends of All Times

…black heart he bade the warriors depart unto Samengan. And they bare with them gifts of great price to pour before the face of Sohrab. And they bare also a letter filled with soft words. And in the letter Afrasiyab lauded Sohrab for his resolve, and told him how that if Iran be subdued the world would henceforth know peace, for upon his own head should he place the crown of the Kaianides; and Turan, Iran, and Samengan should be as one land. When Sohrab had read this letter, and saw the gifts and the aid sent out to him, he rejoiced aloud, for he deemed that now none could withstand his might. So he caused the cymbals of departure to be clashed, and the army made them ready to go forth. Then Sohrab led them into the land of Iran. And their track was marked by desolation and destruction, for they spared nothing that they passed. And they spread fire and dismay abroad, and they marched on unstayed until they came unto the White Castle, the fortress wherein Iran put its trust. Now the guardian of the castle was named Hujir, and there lived with him Gustahem the grave, but he was grown old, and could aid no longer save with his counsels. And there abode also his daughter Gurdafrid, a warlike maid, firm in the saddle, and practised in the fight. Now when Hujir beheld from afar a dusky cloud of armed men he came forth to meet them. And Sohrab, when he saw him, drew his sword, and demanded his…

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Excerpt #8, from Anne of the Island, by L. M. Montgomery

…string to it and the other end to the door, and then shut the door. I sold it to Milty for two cents. Milty’s collecting teeth.” “What in the world does he want teeth for?” asked Marilla. “To make a necklace for playing Indian Chief,” explained Davy, climbing upon Anne’s lap. “He’s got fifteen already, and everybody’s else’s promised, so there’s no use in the rest of us starting to collect, too. I tell you the Boulters are great business people.” “Were you a good boy at Mrs. Boulter’s?” asked Marilla severely. “Yes; but say, Marilla, I’m tired of being good.” “You’d get tired of being bad much sooner, Davy-boy,” said Anne. “Well, it’d be fun while it lasted, wouldn’t it?” persisted Davy. “I could be sorry for it afterwards, couldn’t I?” “Being sorry wouldn’t do away with the consequences of being bad, Davy. Don’t you remember the Sunday last summer when you ran away from Sunday School? You told me then that being bad wasn’t worth while. What were you and Milty doing today?” “Oh, we fished and chased the cat, and hunted for eggs, and yelled at the echo. There’s a great echo in the bush behind the Boulter barn. Say, what is echo, Anne; I want to know.” “Echo is a beautiful nymph, Davy, living far away in the woods, and laughing at the world from among the hills.”…

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Excerpt #9, from The Blue Castle: a novel, by L. M. Montgomery

…prim, dowdy little figure in her shabby raincoat and three-year-old hat, splashed occasionally by the mud of a passing motor with its insulting shrieks. Motors were still rather a novelty in Deerwood, though they were common in Port Lawrence, and most of the summer residents up at Muskoka had them. In Deerwood only some of the smart set had them; for even Deerwood was divided into sets. There was the smart set–the intellectual set–the old-family set–of which the Stirlings were members–the common run, and a few pariahs. Not one of the Stirling clan had as yet condescended to a motor, though Olive was teasing her father to have one. Valancy had never even been in a motorcar. But she did not hanker after this. In truth, she felt rather afraid of motorcars, especially at night. They seemed to be too much like big purring beasts that might turn and crush you–or make some terrible savage leap somewhere. On the steep mountain trails around her Blue Castle only gaily caparisoned steeds might proudly pace; in real life Valancy would have been quite contented to drive in a buggy behind a nice horse. She got a buggy drive only when some uncle or cousin remembered to fling her “a chance,” like a bone to a dog. CHAPTER V Of course she must buy the tea in Uncle Benjamin’s grocery-store. To buy it anywhere else was unthinkable. Yet Valancy hated to go to Uncle…

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Excerpt #10, from The Genetic Effects of Radiation, by Isaac Asimov and Theodosius Dobzhansky

…Every different pattern of amino acids forms a molecule with its own set of properties, and there are an enormous number of patterns possible. In an enzyme molecule made up of 500 amino acids, the number of possible patterns can be expressed by a 1 followed by 1100 zeroes (10¹¹⁰⁰). Every cell has the capacity of choosing among this unimaginable number of possible patterns and selecting those characteristic of itself. It therefore ends with a complement of specific enzymes that guide its own chemical changes and, consequently, its properties and its behavior. The “instructions” that enable a fertilized ovum to develop in the proper manner are essentially “instructions” for choosing a particular set of enzyme patterns out of all those possible. The differences in the enzyme-guided behavior of the cells making up different species show themselves in differences in body structure. We cannot completely follow the long and intricate chain of cause-and-effect that leads from one set of enzymes to the long neck of a giraffe and from another set of enzymes to the large brain of a man, but we are sure that the chain is there. Even within a species, different individuals will have slight distinctions among their sets of enzymes and this accounts for the fact that no two human beings are exactly alike (leaving identical twins out of consideration). Each chromosome can be considered as being composed of small sections…

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Excerpt #11, from Argonaut stories, by Jerome Hart

…same.” The apparent indifference with which Lansing spoke of the entire matter, much as if he were discussing the best method of hunting a wild animal, shocked the young man; but he had committed himself too far to withdraw. Besides he had that feeling that all men have when they are young–the curiosity to know whether or not he could rely on himself when danger threatened. “We should strike his trail on the hills here, if he is really headed for the basin country,” said Lansing. They had been riding for several hours in silence through the snow, unbroken by aught save the scattered pines that here and there dotted the mesa. Before them towered the mountains through whose passes the man whom they were after would have to pass in his search for safety in the half-settled wilds beyond. As the two men rode along, scanning in each direction the snow-covered mesa, Lansing suddenly wheeled his horse to the right, and when Crandall joined him he pointed to a narrow trail where two horses had passed through the snow. “That’s him. He’s driving one horse and leading another, and he hasn’t passed by very long, either. See, the snow hasn’t had time to drift in it,” said he….

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Excerpt #12, from Twenty Four Unusual Stories for Boys and Girls, by Anna Cogswell Tyler

…upon just such another, his great red robe fluttering out in the moonlight like huge red wings. “Great herring and little fishes!” roared the fisherman; “it is a billy-goat!” Instantly goats, old man, and all were gone like a flash. Down fell the fisherman through the empty sky, whirling over and over and around and around like a frog. He held tightly to his net, but away flew his fur cap, the golden money falling in a shower like sparks of yellow light. Down he fell and down he fell, until his head spun like a top. By good-luck his house was just below, with its thatch of soft rushes. Into the very middle of it he tumbled, and right through the thatch–bump!–into the room below. The good wife was in bed, snoring away for dear life; but such a noise as the fisherman made coming into the house was enough to wake the dead. Up she jumped, and there she sat, staring and winking with sleep, and with her brains as addled as a duck’s egg in a thunderstorm. “There!” said the fisherman, as he gathered himself up and rubbed his shoulder, “that is what comes of following a woman’s advice!” [Illustration: THE WINDS, THE BIRDS, AND THE TELEGRAPH WIRES] FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 3: Reprinted by special permission from Twilight Land, by…

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