The Works, Volumen9

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1883

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Página 121 - ... his green boughs, and left him a withered trunk : he then flies to art, and puts on a periwig, valuing himself upon an unnatural bundle of hairs, (all covered with powder,) that never grew on his head ; but now, should this our broomstick pretend to enter the...
Página 121 - THIS single stick, which you now behold ingloriously lying in that neglected corner, I once knew in a flourishing state in a forest; it was full of sap, full of leaves, and full of boughs; but now, in vain does the busy art of man pretend to...
Página 340 - A Complete Collection Of Genteel and Ingenious Conversation, According to the Most Polite Mode and Method Now Used At Court, and in the Best Companies of England.
Página 275 - This day, being Sunday, January 28th, 1727-8, about eight o'clock at night, a servant brought me a note, with an account of the death of the truest, most virtuous, and valuable friend, that I, or perhaps any other person ever was blessed with.
Página 362 - But every single character in Shakespeare is as much an individual, as those in life itself; it is as impossible to find any two alike; and such as from their relation or affinity in any respect appear most to be twins, will upon comparison be found remarkably distinct.
Página 362 - ... had all the speeches been printed without the very names of the persons, I believe one might have applied them with certainty to every speaker.
Página 141 - ... and even then our best writings might probably' be preserved with care, and grow into esteem, and the authors have a chance for immortality.
Página 223 - What they do in heaven we are ignorant of; what they do not we are told expressly, that they neither marry, nor are given in marriage.
Página 143 - From the civil war to this present time, I am apt to doubt, whether the corruptions in our language have not at least equalled the refinements of it ; and these corruptions very few of the best authors in our age have wholly escaped.
Página 137 - My lord, I do here, in the name of all the learned and polite persons of the nation, complain to your lordship, as first minister, that our language is extremely imperfect; that its daily improvements are by no means in proportion to its daily corruptions; that the pretenders to polish and refine it, have chiefly multiplied abuses and absurdities; and that in many instances it offends against every part of grammar.

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