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All that was rare and beautiful had gone to the making of the room, and rarer and more beautiful than all, in the eyes of the man whose memory now recalled it, had been the woman to whom it had belonged, whose loveliness had glowed within it like a jewel in a rich setting. With a mental jolt his thoughts came back to the present, to the bare, commonplace ugliness of Wallater's Buildings.
Close against them and overpeering their tops were hollyhocks and dahlias; against these stood at lesser height sweet peas, asters, zinnias, coreopsis and others of like stature; in front of these were poppies for summer, marigolds for autumn; beneath these again were verbenas, candytuft all this is sketched from memory, and I recall the winsome effect rather than species and names; and still below nestled portulaca and periwinkle.
The roof of this church, as of most others in England, with the adjoining steeple, is covered with lead. On the right side of the choir is the marble tomb of Nicholas Bacon, with his wife. Not far from this is a magnificent monument, ornamented with pyramids of marble and alabaster, with this inscription: Sacred to the memory of
Its death was felt as a national loss; the man who killed it was condemned to expiate the crime with his own life; and nothing less than a public funeral could, as it was thought, do justice to its memory.
The sense of her unloved, solitary state, of all that she had borne and must still bear, roused in her anew a flame of memory. Torch-like it ran through the past, till she was shaken with anguish and revolt. She had been loved once! It had brought her to what the world calls shame.
He sat in his room alone in the morning, playing his flute, playing over from memory the tunes she loved, and imagining how he and she would get into unison in the evening. His flute, his Aaron's rod, would blossom once again with splendid scarlet flowers, the red Florentine lilies. It was curious, the passion he had for her: just unalloyed desire, and nothing else.
"It was evident the captain had divined that I wanted him to go. And I knew him well enough to be sure that he was going to stay. He stayed. The least circumstances of that evening remain impressed on my memory. My uncle was extremely jovial. The mere idea of being in somebody's way was enough to keep him in good humour.
In course lectures, quotations must be read, as a rule, as there is not time enough between lectures to commit them to memory. But where the same lecture is given repeatedly before different audiences, this condition does not exist, and the quotations should be memorized. Frequent quotations, from the best authorities, is one of the marks of a good lecture, as of a good book.
The most miserable outcast hugs some memory or some illusion. Now and then a fatal conjunction of events may lift the veil for an instant. For an instant only. No human being could bear a steady view of moral solitude without going mad. Razumov had reached that point of vision.
If we were to awake in a totally strange world where nothing was in any degree at all similar to the world in which we went to sleep, we might find ourselves so sadly puzzled as to doubt our own identity, even though memory persisted in its identifying suggestion.
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