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The floor, too, was earthen, but he had made no effort at stealth, and in the gloom and shadow of the low-roofed room it was for a moment difficult to distinguish the human figures against the opposite wall.
Its truth, intense, fascinating, terrible as it is, is a half-truth, and the darker half; it is the shadow of which the other half is light; it is the wrath of which the other half is love. A book from which light and love are absent may hold us by its truth to what is dark in life; but, in the highest sense, it is a false book.
I thanked God, who had led me out of a darkness more terrible than that of the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and while my feet strayed among the flowery meadows of Lebanon, my heart walked on the Delectable Hills of His Mercy. By the middle of the afternoon, we reached Baalbec.
She glanced up in surprise after a while, when a shadow fell across the doorway. Then, for Mary was a girl with "nerves," she jumped up with a little scream. An Indian hawker stood there a big, black-bearded fellow, in dusty clothes that had once been white, and on his head a turban of faded pink.
Indeed, properly considered i.e., from the monistic standpoint evil is a mere negation, a shadow where light should be; or to be quite logical, evil is that which is not in other words, there is no evil, except to deluded minds, whose business is to get quit of their delusion.
It seemed to Mike that, like sea-weed, he and Frank had been washed together, and they then had been washed apart. That was life, and that was the result of life, that and nothing more. And of every adventure Frank was the most distinctly realizable; all else, even Lily, was a little shadow that had come and gone. John had lost himself in religion, Frank had lost himself in his wife and child.
Looking out into the night, the shipowner could not see Rivière, who had stopped motionless in the shadow of a giant box clipped to the shape of a peacock standing on a broad pedestal. Rivière waited. Presently Larssen turned abruptly as though someone had entered the room. A smile of welcome was on his lips. Olive swept in, close-gowned in black with silvery scales.
She cooked for him in the intervals of her watch and sent small pencilled notes to him, together with the fish and potatoes, but no scrap of paper came back to her so scrupulous was Cavanagh to spare her from the faintest shadow of danger.
She put down her candle outside the door, and started as crow flies for the other light. After glowing a moment in the doorway she dived into the shadow and emerged into light again close to the table with napkins on her arm.
So, when from the stone wall, like the reflection of the sun upon a window-pane, something flashed, Jimmie knew he had found his spy. A pair of binoculars had betrayed him. Jimmie now saw him clearly. He sat on the ground at the top of the hill opposite, in the deep shadow of an oak, his back against the stone wall.
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