Still, life had a way of adding day to day
Let us record the atoms as they fall upon the mind in the order in which they fall.
Would there be trees if we didn't see them?
The poet gives us his essence, but prose takes the mould of the body and mind entire.
It is useless to read Greek in translation; translators can but offer us a vague equivalent.
When she read just now to James, 'and there were numbers of soldiers with kettledrums and trumpets,' and his eyes darkened, she thought, why should they grow up, and lose all that?