159 match(es) found in quotations

Henry David Thoreau :
On the thirty-first day of March, one hundred and forty-two years before this, probably about this time in the afternoon, there were hurriedly paddling down this part of the river, between the pine woods which then fringed these banks, two white women and a boy, who had left an island at the mouth of the Contoocook before daybreak. They were lightly clad for the season, in the English fashion, and handled their paddles unskillfully, but with nervous energy and determination, and at the bottom of their canoe lay the still bleeding scalps of ten of the aborigines. They were Hannah Dustan, and her nurse, Mary Neff,... and an English boy, named Samuel Lennardson, escaping from captivity among the Indians. On the 15th of March previous, Hannah Dustan had been compelled to rise from childbed, and half dressed, with one foot bare, accompanied by her nurse, commence an uncertain march, in still inclement weather, through the snow and the wilderness. She had seen her seven elder children flee with their father, but knew not of their fate. She had seen her infant's brains dashed out against an apple tree, and had left her own and her neighbors' dwellings in ashes. When she reached the wigwam of her captor, situated on an island in the Merrimack, more than twenty miles above where we now are, she had been told that she and her nurse were soon to be taken to a distant Indian settlement, and there made to run the gauntlet naked.... Having determined to attempt her escape, she instructed the boy to inquire of one of the men, how he should dispatch an enemy in the quickest manner, and take his scalp. "Strike 'em there," said he, placing his finger on his temple, and he also showed him how to take off the scalp. On the morning of the 31st she arose before daybreak, and awoke her nurse and the boy, and taking the Indians' tomahawks, they killed them all in their sleep, excepting one favorite boy, and one squaw who fled wounded with him to the woods. The English boy struck the Indian who had given him the information, on the temple, as he had been directed. They then collected all the provision they could find, and took their master's tomahawk and gun, and scuttling all the canoes but one, commenced their flight to Haverhill, distant about sixty miles by the river. But after having proceeded a short distance, fearing that her story would not be believed if she should escape to tell it, they returned to the silent wigwam, and taking off the scalps of the dead, put them into a bag as proofs of what they had done, and then, retracing their steps to the shore in the twilight, recommenced their voyage.
[Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862), U.S. philosopher, author, naturalist. A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers (1849), in The Writings of Henry David Thoreau, vol. 1, pp. 341-343, Houghton Mifflin (1906). As Thoreau later makes clear, the "apple tree" in this passage signals that this story is a new world replication of the Fall of Adam and Eve.]
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Henry David Thoreau :
The age of the world is great enough for our imaginations, even according to the Mosaic account, without borrowing any years from the geologist. From Adam and Eve at one leap sheer down to the deluge, and then through the ancient monarchies, through Babylon and Thebes, Brahma and Abraham, to Greece and the Argonauts; whence we might start again with Orpheus, and the Trojan war, the Pyramids and the Olympic games, and Homer and Athens, for our stages; and after a breathing space at the building of Rome, continue our journey down through Odin and Christ to—MAmerica. It is a wearisome while. And yet the lives of but sixty old women, such as live under the hill, say of a century each, strung together, are sufficient to reach over the whole ground. Taking hold of hands they would span the interval from Eve to my own mother. A respectable tea-party merely,—whose gossip would be Universal History. The fourth old woman from myself suckled Columbus,—the ninth was nurse to the Norman Conqueror,—the nineteenth was the Virgin Mary—the twenty-fourth was the Cumæan Sibyl,—the thirtieth was at the Trojan war and Helen her name,—the thirty-eighth was Queen Semiramis,—the sixtieth was Eve, the mother of mankind. So much for the "Old woman that lives under the hill, And if she's not gone she lives there still." It will not take a very great-granddaughter of hers to be in at the death of Time.
[Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862), U.S. philosopher, author, naturalist. A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers (1849), in The Writings of Henry David Thoreau, vol. 1, pp. 346-347, Houghton Mifflin (1906).]
Walter Pater :
The presence that thus so strangely rose beside the waters is expressive of what in the ways of a thousand years man had come to desire.... She [Leonardo's Mona Lisa] is older than the rocks among which she sits; like the vampire, she has been dead many times, and learned the secrets of the grave; and has been a diver in deep seas, and keeps their fallen day about her; and trafficked for strange webs with Eastern merchants; and, as Leda, was the mother of Helen of Troy, and, as Saint Anne, the mother of Mary; and all this has been to her but as the sound of lyres and flutes, and lives only in the delicacy with which it has moulded the changing lineaments and tinged the eyelids and the hands. The fancy of a perpetual life, sweeping together ten thousand experiences, is an old one; and modern thought has conceived the idea of humanity as wrought upon by, and summing up in itself, all modes of thought and life. Certainly Lady Lisa might stand as the embodiment of the old fancy, the symbol of the modern idea.
[Walter Pater (1839-1894), British writer, educator. originally published in Fortnightly Review (Nov. 1869). "Notes on Leonardo da Vinci," pp. 118-19, repr. As "Leonardo da Vinci," in Studies in the History of the Renaissance, Macmillan (1873).]
Read more quotations about / on: mother, life
Henry David Thoreau :
I have met with but one or two persons in the course of my life who understood the art of Walking, that is, of taking walks,—who had a genius, so to speak, for sauntering, which word is beautifully derived "from idle people who roved about the country, in the Middle Ages, and asked charity, under the pretense of going à la Sainte Terre," to the Holy Land, till the children exclaimed, "There goes a Sainte-Terrer," a Saunterer, a Holy-Lander. They who never go to the Holy Land in their walks, as they pretend, are indeed mere idlers and vagabonds; but they who do go there are saunterers in the good sense, such as I mean. Some, however, would derive the word from sans terre, without land or a home, which, therefore, in the good sense, will mean, having no particular home, but equally at home everywhere. For this is the secret of successful sauntering. He who sits still in a house all the time may be the greatest vagrant of all; but the saunterer, in the good sense, is no more vagrant than the meandering river, which is all the while sedulously seeking the shortest course to the sea. But I prefer the first, which, indeed, is the most probable derivation. For every walk is a sort of crusade, preached by some Peter the Hermit in us, to go forth and reconquer this Holy Land from the hands of the Infidels.
[Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862), U.S. philosopher, author, naturalist. "Walking" (1862), in The Writings of Henry David Thoreau, vol. 5, pp. 205-206, Houghton Mifflin (1906).]
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Denis De Rougemont :
Two destitute lives. Two sickly bachelors, chaste though without vows, deprived of all daily affection, suffering all the torments of poetic passion, but for the Idea—adventurers of the mind only. Two existences virtually devoid of external vicissitudes. For one, the breaking-off of an engagement, the final attack against the Church, and death at forty-two. For the other, still less: a few years' professorship, a long wandering solitude, madness at forty-four. Each produced in some fifteen years his difficult, seminal work, and attracted only in extremis, by scandal, the attention of a few contemporaries. This external nakedness, contrasting with so much inner pathos, renders these lives exemplary; two pure tensions. In them the action of the mythic powers perfectly reveals its slow movements of approach, of alternating emergence and eclipse. These two chaste men meditated much on love, on women, and on marriage. Nietzsche has certainly written less on these subjects than Kierkegaard, but his work is no less rich in brief, often brazenly contradictory judgments on these three themes. It is remarkable that Nietzsche's contradictions afford a faithful epitome of Kierkegaard's, which in their turn repeat those of St. Paul himself.
[Denis De Rougemont (b. 1906), Swiss author. "Dialectic of the Myths (I)," Love Declared (1961, trans. 1963).]
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Arthur M Schlesinger, Jr. :
Alike in so many ways, united by so many indestructible bonds, the two brothers were still different men. John Kennedy remained, as Paul Dever had said, the Brahmin; Robert, the Puritan. In English terms one was a Whig, the other, a Radical. John Kennedy was urbane, objective, analytical, controlled, contained, masterful, a man of perspective; Robert, while very bright and increasingly reflective, was more open, exposed, emotional, subjective, intense, a man of commitment. One was a man for whom everything seemed easy; the other a man for whom everything had been difficult. One was always graceful, the other often graceless. Meeting Robert for the first time in 1963, Roy Jenkins of England thought him "staccato, inarticulate ... much less rounded, much less widely informed, much less at ease with the world of power than his brother." John Kennedy, while taking part in things, seemed, as Tom Wicker observed, almost to watch himself take part and to criticize his own performance; Robert "lost himself in the event."
[Arthur M. Schlesinger, Jr. (b. 1917), U.S. historian. "The Brothers: II," Robert Kennedy and His Times, Houghton Mifflin (1978).]
Rutherford Birchard Hayes :
In the evening we attended a lecture by Rev. Fitch, a missionary for twenty years to China—the husband of our bright cousin, Mary McClelland.... He spoke of the three hundred millions of people in China. Twelve million a year die in ignorance of the Bible—one million a month perishing without salvation! This to me seems monstrous. God, the Father of all, God, who is love, dooms millions of his creatures to eternal torment! ... He is to bring a new religion to a polite and cultivated people!
[Rutherford Birchard Hayes (1822-1893), U.S. president. Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes: Nineteenth President of the United States, vol. V, p. 43, ed. Charles Richard Williams, The Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Society, 5 vols. (1922-1926), Diary (September 4, 1892).]
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Susan B Anthony :
I never saw that great woman, Mary Wollstonecraft, but I have read her eloquent and unanswerable arguments in behalf of the liberty of womankind. I have met and known most of the progressive women who came after her—Lucretia Mott, the Grimke sisters, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Lucy Stone—a long galaxy of great women.... Those older women have gone on, and most of those who worked with me in the early years have gone. I am here for a little time only and then my place will be filled as theirs was filled. The fight must not cease; you must see that it does not stop.
[Susan B. Anthony (1820-1906), U.S. suffragist. As quoted in Life and Work of Susan B. Anthony, vol. 3, ch. 69, by Ida Husted Harper (1908). Speaking in Baltimore, Maryland, in February 1906, at the thirty-eighth annual convention of the National Woman Suffrage Association. Anthony was nearing her eighty-sixth birthday and was in very uncertain health. She had been a leader of the woman suffrage movement for 54 years, almost since its inception. Mary Wollstonecraft (1759-1797), a British author, wrote one of the earliest feminist tracts, A Vindication of the Rights of Woman (1792); Anthony had never met her, of course, because she died before Anthony was born. Lucretia Mott (1793-1880) was an American suffragist and abolitionist; she also supported a number of other social reforms. Angelina (1805-1879) and Sarah (1792- 1873) Grimke were passionate abolitionists and suffragists. Elizabeth Cady Stanton (1816-1902) had been Anthony's closest friend and colleague, working with her for decades on prosuffrage activism. Lucy Stone (1818-1893) was an abolitionist and suffragist who married another active suffragist, Henry Brown Blackwell, but retained her birth name. Mott and Stanton had organized the first women's rights convention ever held in the United States, from which the woman suffrage movement dates: it opened in Seneca Falls, New York, on July 19, 1848.]
Read more quotations about / on: gone, women, woman, time
Ben Hecht :
Swan/Mary Rutledge: Oh no, no. I'm not running away. I came here to get something, and I'm going to get it. Col. Cobb: Yes, but San Francisco is no place for a woman. Swan: Why not? I'm not afraid. I like the fog. I like this new world. I like the noise of something happening.... I'm tired of dreaming, Colonel Cobb. I'm staying. I'm staying and holding out my hands for gold—bright, yellow gold.
[Ben Hecht (1893-1964), U.S. writer, screenwriter, Charles Macarthur U.S., screenwriter, Edward Chodorov U.S., screenwiter, and Howard Hawks. Swan/Mary Rutledge (Miriam Hopkins), Colonel Cobb (Frank Craven), Barbary Coast, expressing her determination to stay in San Francisco, after learning the man she came to marry is dead (1935).]
Read more quotations about / on: fog, yellow, running, woman, world
Ben Hecht :
Swan/Mary Rutledge: Listen, listen to them. Men like to yell, don't they? They imagine they are millionaires already. Col. Cobb: More than that. They've all left lives behind them they didn't like. They all dream of being reborn in the new land. Swan: Do they? Or do they dream of gold? Col. Cobb: No, no, Miss Rutledge. Behind that fog, lies not only sand filled with gold, but a new empire for men of vision. Swan: Men of vision. Oh, I love the fine names men give each other to hide their greed and lust for adventure.
[Ben Hecht (1893-1964), U.S. writer, screenwriter, Charles Macarthur U.S., screenwriter, Edward Chodorov U.S., screenwiter, and Howard Hawks. Swan/Mary Rutledge (Miriam Hopkins), Colonel Cobb (Frank Craven), Barbary Coast, commenting on the gold prospectors who have swarmed to San Francisco (1935).]
Read more quotations about / on: dream, greed, fog, lust, miss, imagine, love
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