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"Nay only that you know the secret of remaining beautiful." "You are a poet!" murmured the Empress with a twitch of her thin under-lip. "Affairs of state do not favor the Muses." "But I call any man a poet who sees things more beautiful than they are, or who gives them finer names than they deserve a poet, a dreamer, a flatterer for it comes to that."
After another pause, with a shake of her pretty head, as if she would toss aside her hair, or the tears out of her eyes, "I don't know I seem to have no right to thank you; I ought not to have such a splendid present. Indeed, I don't deserve it. You would not give it me if you knew how naughty I am." These broken sentences were by both mother and son altogether misinterpreted.
"And indeed, Simmias, they would speak the truth, except in asserting that they are not ignorant; for they are ignorant of the sense in which true philosophers desire to die, and in what sense they deserve death, and what kind of death. But," he said, "let us take leave of them, and speak to one another. Do we think that death is anything?" "Certainly," replied Simmias.
"I am sure that you deserve credit for everything that can possibly be imagined," Scudamore answered, scarcely knowing, with all his own common-sense to help him, that he was talking nonsense. "Every time I see you I find something I had never found before to to wonder at if you can understand and to admire, and to think about, and to to be astonished at."
He is so pure and holy that even the bright heavens are not clean in His sight; and were He to treat us as we deserve, when we indulged for a moment in an evil thought, or departed in the slightest degree from the truth, He might justly punish us; but He is merciful, kind, and long-suffering, and thus He allows sinners to continue in life, to give them an opportunity of repenting and turning to Him."
"If you ever do get rich," said Governor Gray, looking over his shoulder across the top of his cab, "you'll deserve it, Jerry, and you won't find a curse come with your wealth. As for you, Larry, you'll die poor; you spend too much in whipcord." "Well," said Larry, "what is a fellow to do if his horse won't go without it?"
Eight of the bodies which should have been here were missing: Miko, Moa, Coniston and five of the crew. We did not find them outside. They were hiding near here, no doubt, more willing to take their chances than to yield to us now. But how, in all this Lunar desolation, could we hope to locate them? "No use," said Grantline. "Let them go. If they want death, well, they deserve it."
I tell you I would if you were only a man; but it would be sinful to pay a wretched old witch in the only way you deserve to be paid!" said Cap, flourishing her riding whip before a creature tall enough and strong enough to have doubled up her slight form together and hurled it into the abyss.
But, Wilhelm, he loves her with his whole heart, and what does not such a love deserve? September 5. Charlotte had written a letter to her husband in the country, where he was detained on business. It began: "My dearest love, return as soon as possible. I await you with a thousand raptures!" A friend who arrived brought word that he could not return immediately. Her letter fell into my hands.
Lieutenants Bradley and Jacobs did a piece of reconnoitering on this day for which they deserve great credit.
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