The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 101Atlantic Monthly Company, 1908 - American essays |
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ALICE BROWN American artist asked ATLANTIC MONTHLY Augustus Saint-Gaudens balloon banks beautiful Billy Stark Bob Henderson branch banks called Chateaubriand church corporations course dear EDITH WHARTON Electra England eyes face fact father feel felt France French friends German girl give grannie hand heart human ical interest kind knew labor lady land laughed less light live looked MacLeod Madam Fulton matter means ment mind mother nature ness never night once organization Osmond party perhaps Peter play playmate political present Prussia railroad road Rose seemed smile soul spirit spoils system stand sugar talk Teheran tell things thought tion to-day told town train truth turn voice Whistler woman wonder words young
Popular passages
Page 369 - For I dipt into the future, far as human eye could see, Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be; Saw the heavens fill with commerce, argosies of magic sails, Pilots of the purple twilight, dropping down with costly bales ; Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there rain'da ghastly dew From the nations...
Page 495 - Our soul is escaped even as a bird out of the snare of the fowler ; the snare is broken, and we are delivered.
Page 433 - This people draweth nigh unto me with their mouth, and honoureth me with their lips; but their heart is far from me.
Page 585 - They meant to set up a standard maxim for free society, which should be familiar to all, and revered by all ; constantly looked to, constantly labored for, and even though never perfectly attained, constantly approximated, and thereby constantly spreading and deepening its influence and augmenting the happiness and value of life to all people of all colors everywhere.
Page 222 - ... and yellow melancholy, She sat like Patience on a monument, Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed ? We men may say more, swear more : but, indeed. Our shows are more than will ; for still we prove Much in our vows, but little in our love. Duke. But died thy sister of her love, my boy? Vio. I am all the daughters of my father's house, And all the brothers too; — and yet I know not.
Page 288 - No man has come to true greatness who has not felt, in some degree, that his life belongs to his race, and that what God gives him He gives him for mankind.
Page 387 - words of art" as he calls them, which Philemon Holland, a voluminous translator at the end of the sixteenth and beginning of the seventeenth century...
Page 210 - The house-dog on his paws outspread Laid to the fire his drowsy head, The cat's dark silhouette on the wall A couchant tiger's seemed to fall; And, for the winter fireside meet, Between the andirons...
Page 665 - To where the grown-up river slips Into the sea among the ships, To where the roads on either hand Lead onward into fairy land, Where all the children dine at five, And all the playthings come alive.
Page 129 - Methinks,' t is strange they should be so unlike. It may be, all the best was cut away To make the woman, and the naught was left Behind with him.