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"There was little more," said Mald, "for the monk pulled at her, and she went as she came." "Have they passed an hour gone?" said Prosper in a dry whisper. "Ah, and more." "God be with you," said he; "pray for her." "Pray!" mocked the crone in a rage; "and pray what will that do?" "No more than I, mother, just now. God is all about us. Farewell!" And he was gone amid flying peats.
'There is no man will help thee whose help will avail, Cicely mocked at her. 'For hear me: No man now is up in the land that hath not goods of the Church; fields of the abbeys; spoons made of the parcel gilt from the shrines. There is no rich man now but is rich with stolen riches; there is no man now up that was not so set up. And the men that be down have lost their heads.
The precipice over the edge of which you fling yourself may be a physical one, may be a mental one, an affectional one, a spiritual one; but the moral gravity of the universe is never mocked, and the man who breaks any of God's laws never goes free.
"He got hold of my rope when we had to stop to make the rock and now he has got it again!" "Don't you dare stop one minute!" panted Madaline. "You have almost murdered us as it is," she proclaimed in her excitement, which always banished her ordinarily sparse supply of reasonable language. "Nice way you help a sister," mocked Grace.
"There now!" said Antha triumphantly. "Well, anyway," went on Anthony, "you yelled as loud as you could yell, and I didn't." Antha promptly burst into tears. "Cry baby, cry baby," mocked her brother. Gladys and Hinpoha bore the weeping Antha away to one of the tents and the Sandwich boys took Anthony under their wing.
Little by little upon this silence stole the rustle of leaves, and in the leaves were the imps who mocked me: "Who is he that doth love in despite of himself, and shall do, all his days be she good or evil, whatever she was, whatever she is? Who is the very Fool of Love? Peter Vibart! Peter Vibart!"
Thomas Peregrine Courtenay, who, after his retirement from public life, wrote the Memoirs of Temple and stated in his preface that experience had taught him the superiority of literature to politics for developing the kindlier feelings and conducing to an agreeable life: He has little reason, in our opinion, to envy any of those who are still engaged in a pursuit from which, at most, they can only expect that, by relinquishing liberal studies and social pleasures, by passing nights without sleep and summers without one glimpse of the beauty of nature, they may attain that laborious, that invidious, that closely watched slavery which is mocked with the name of power.
"Ah, Professor! wait, wait, and soon you will not laugh," said the Doctor, solemnly. "Perhaps not. I am a sincere friend of yours, and a tolerably good-hearted sort of man, I hope. I shall probably feel more like crying. But the world may laugh long and loud, Doctor. All who hate the true revelation may laugh to see it mocked and caricatured by those who profess and mean to honor it.
Gray-haired, gray-hearted, mocked, and maddened in the dawn of my confiding womanhood, nominally a wife, but in reality a nameless waif, shut out from happiness, and pitied as a maniac, such, is that most desolate and isolated woman, whom, as Agla Gerome, you have known as the mistress of this lonely place.
He said: "What I have written, I have written." And the people who passed by on the road, as they looked at Jesus on the cross, mocked at him. Some called out to him: "You that would destroy the Temple and build it in three days, save yourself. If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross!" And the priests and scribes said: "He saved others, but he cannot save himself.
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