The North American Review, Bind 83

Jared Sparks, Edward Everett, James Russell Lowell, Henry Cabot Lodge
O. Everett, 1856
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Vols. 227-230, no. 2 include: Stuff and nonsense, v. 5-6, no. 8, Jan. 1929-Aug. 1930.

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Side 114 - That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please. Give me that man That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, As I do thee.
Side 416 - For my own personal ease, I should have died two years ago ; but, though those years have been spent in excruciating pain, I am pleased that I have lived them, since they have brought me to see our present situation.
Side 109 - Saul, that the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul.
Side 437 - There was an instant return of the hectic circles on the cheeks ; the tongue quivered, or rather rolled violently in the mouth (although the jaws and lips remained rigid as before); and at length the same hideous voice which I have already described, broke forth — 'For God's sake! — quick! — quick — put me to sleep — or quick ! — :waken me ! — quick !• — / say to you that I am dead !' I was thoroughly unnerved, and for an instant remained undecided what to do.
Side 23 - His person and whole deportment exhibited an unaffected and indescribable dignity, unmingled with haughtiness, of which all who approached him were sensible; and the attachment of those who possessed his friendship and enjoyed his intimacy was ardent, but always respectful. His temper was humane, benevolent, and conciliatory; but there was a quickness in his sensibility to anything apparently offensive, which experience had taught him to watch and to correct.
Side 109 - I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan : very pleasant hast thou been unto me : thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women.
Side 492 - Elle avait pris ce pli dans son âge enfantin De venir dans ma chambre un peu chaque matin. Je l'attendais ainsi qu'un rayon qu'on espère; Elle entrait, et disait : Bonjour, mon petit père! Prenait ma plume, ouvrait mes livres, s'asseyait. Sur mon lit, dérangeait mes papiers, et riait, Puis soudain s'en allait comme un oiseau qui passe.
Side 418 - I am very sorry, that you intend soon to leave our hemisphere. America has sent us many good things, gold, silver, sugar, tobacco, indigo, &c. ; but you are the first philosopher, and indeed the first great man of letters for whom we are beholden to her.
Side 210 - Lord Marmion turned, — well was his need! — And dashed the rowels in his steed, Like arrow through the archway sprung; The ponderous grate behind him rung: To pass there was such scanty room, The b'ars, descending, razed his plume.

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