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What is it but an excuse to be idly minded, or personally lofty, or comfortably narrow, not perfectly humane? If we do not feign when we say that we despise Folly, we shut the brain. There is a disdainful attitude in the presence of Folly, partaking of the foolishness to Comic perception: and anger is not much less foolish than disdain. The struggle we have to conduct is essence against essence.

And at length, when some of the besieged had died in their anger, the ports were opened no more. It was then our sharpshooters crept up boldly to within thirty yards of them nay, it seemed as if they lay under the very walls of the fort.

On her knees she was tossing to the floor the contents of the waste-paper basket. From them she snatched a piece of crumpled paper. "Shut up!" she shouted. "Listen! His chauffeur brought him this." In a voice that quivered with indignation, that sobbed with anger, she read aloud: "'As directed by your note from the window, I went to the booth and called up Mrs.

"The law is not of MY making, James," the old lady intervened mildly, noting his use of the discussed woman's name with a pang. "But it IS of your making you people who sit around and say what's respectable and what's not respectable! Who are you to judge?" "I try not to judge," Mrs. Gregory said so simply that the man's anger cooled in spite of himself.

Then shall the Dacotahs lay hands upon the white spirits; they shall treat them kindly, but they shall bring them to the Peace Camp and there consume them with fire. Then shall the power of the water spirits be broken. Then shall the Dacotahs be safe. Then shall the fire of my anger be quenched. "'But I the sacred totem of the Dacotahs am mighty and full of pity.

It looked as if Gustav were grinning slyly, but it was only that he was turning the quid in his mouth. The bailiff stamped with anger. "But I can go altogether if you don't care to see me," said Gustav gently. The bailiff did not hear, but turned quickly. Experience had taught him to be deaf to that kind of offer in the busy season.

And so though she has not been nearly so happy with young people as she thought somehow she must be, she has bravely stayed on there for my sake." Was it merely her imagination or did the severity of Mr. Anstruther's face relax somewhat as he heard that his granddaughter had not been as happy as she had hoped to be? His tone, however, when he spoke again had lost none of its former anger.

Miss Quincey repeated her statement. "Do you mean you are not going back to that place there?" she asked mildly. "I am never going back." Still with dignity she waited for the burst of feeling she felt to be justifiable in the circumstances. None came; neither anger, nor indignation, nor contempt, not even surprise.

Say that my anger has no bounds that my heart is breaking will break and kill me, if he persists in his ingratitude and cruelty. Implore him to come home and save me." The old man stopped and wept.

The wind seemingly swept from his clothes all the greasy odour of the pork shop, which had made him feel so languid. He was returning home when he met Claude Lantier. The artist, hidden in the folds of his greenish overcoat, spoke in a hollow voice full of suppressed anger.