Moths

Forsideomslag
Lippincott, 1900 - 525 sider
 

Andre udgaver - Se alle

Almindelige termer og sætninger

Populære passager

Side 240 - J'ai vu le temps où ma jeunesse Sur mes lèvres était sans cesse Prête à chanter comme un oiseau. Mais j'ai souffert un dur martyre , Et le moins que j'en pourrais dire , Si je l'essayais sur ma lyre, La briserait comme un roseau.
Side 81 - This person had her feet on an ottoman, her hands behind her head, a rosebud in her mouth, and a male group around her. " I shall not like her ; I do not wish to know her," said Vere slowly. " My dear, do not say so," said Lady Stoat. " It will sound like jealousy, you know — one pretty girl of another " " She is not a lady,
Side 95 - N'York, neither, don't think because a man's struck ile he'll go to heaven with Paris thrown in ; but look at all your big folk ! Pray what do they do the minute shoddy comes their way over the pickle-field ? Why they just eat it, ! Kiss it and eat it ! Do you guess we're such fools we don't see that ? Why your Norman blood and Domesday Book and all the rest of it — pray hasn't it married Lily Peart, whose father kept the steamboat hotel in Jersey City, and made his pile selling soothers to the...
Side 429 - ... roughness that concealed an unusual nervousness. His eyes fell on the necklace, and his anger, that was half against himself and half against her, seized on the jewel as a scapegoat. " Who gave you that ? " he said abruptly. She answered — " I think I ought not to say. When you asked me long ago I did not know." " Your singer sent it you. Take it off.
Side 19 - ... she had dark silky hair all tumbled about over her eyebrows in a disarray that cost her maid two hours to compose ; and her eyebrows themselves were drawn beautifully in two fine, dark, slender lines by a pencil that supplied the one defect of Nature. When she was seventeen, at the rectory, amongst the rosebuds on the lawn, she had been a rosebud herself; now she was a Dresden statuette ; the statuette was the more finished and brilliant beauty of the two, and never seemed the worse for wear....
Side 417 - It is a dreary creed. It will make a dreary world. Is not my Venetian glass with its iridescent hues of opal as real every whit as your pot of pewter ? Yet the time is coming when every one, morally and mentally at least, will be allowed no other than a pewter pot to drink out of, under pain of being ' writ down an ass ' — or worse. It is a dreary prospect.
Side 364 - ... only with a higher price. He took the loose gold of her hair in his hands with a sudden caress and drew her into his arms. ' Pardieu ! ' he said with a short laugh. ' A very calm proposition for a separation ! That is what you drive at, no doubt ; a separation in which you should have all the honours as Princess Zouroff still ! No, my lovely Vera, I am not disposed to gratify you, — so. You belong to me, and you must continue to belong to me, nilly-willy. You are too handsome to lose, and you...
Side 6 - ... planks in the summer sunshine. There was a charming blue sea beside her ; a balmy fluttering breeze around her, a crowd of the most fashionable sunshades of Europe before her, like a bed of full-blown anemones. She had floated and bobbed and swum and splashed semi-nude, with all the other mermaids a la mode, and had shown that she must still be a pretty woman, pretty even in daylight, or the men would not have looked at her so : and yet with all this she was not enjoying herself. It was very...
Side 262 - Useless as butterflies, corroding as moths, untrue even to lovers and friends, because incapable of understanding any truth ; caring only for physical comfort and mental intoxication ; kissing like Judas, and denying in danger like Peter ; tired of living, yet afraid of dying ; believing, some in priests and some in physiologists, but none at all in virtue ; sent to sleep by chlorodine, and kept awake by raw meat and dry wines ; cynical at twenty and exhausted at thirty...
Side 429 - Vere was standing beneath the picture of Gerome ; she was already dressed. She wore white velvet, a stuff which she preferred, and whose subtle shades of white it would have been the delight and the despair of Titian and Paul Veronese to reproduce on canvas or on panel. She wore the great Russian Order of St. Catherine. About her throat she had coils of pearls, and under these hung the medallion of the moth and the star. Zouroff approached her with a roughness that concealed an unusual nervousness....

Bibliografiske oplysninger