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Updated: May 13, 2025
There are some moments in life too anguishing for words! Her face is the face of Lady Tilchester, but her eyes her eyes are grayish-greeny-blue, with black edges, and that look like a cat's, that can see in the dark. Now I know whom her photograph reminded me of. There can be only one other pair of such eyes in the world. I don't remember what I said. Something kind and banal.
Go off and die!” I almost hold my own—468 boxes of “assorteds” do I pack. And again the anguishing stand in the Subway. I hate men—hate them. I just hope every one of them gets greeted by a nagging wife when he arrives home.
His leave was immediately written out by Lincoln's own hand, and the soldier went home from Kentucky. He remained a valuable citizen. In 1832, Lincoln, elected to the Illinois legislative chamber, found himself in one of those anguishing embarrassments besetting him in all the early stages of his unflagging ascent from the social slough of despond. Unlike eels, he never got used to skinning.
He went through the anguishing transformation of the actor who becomes a theatrical manager, of the author who branches out into publishing, of the engineer with a hobby for odd inventions who becomes the proprietor of a factory.
So Desmond, before he even troubled to open his paper, let his gaze wander down the second column of the front page whence issue daily those anguishing appeals, mysterious messages, heart-rending entreaties and barefaced begging advertisements which give this column its characteristic name.
She only sat still and sad for hours, and before her eyes passed the dreadful pictures of the time just gone by, presenting themselves with dreadful vividness, and in the recollection anguishing her spirit. She recalled the excitement and anxiety of the day which preceded the flight.
But there was the strange irrelevancy, levity, the enmity the irrational, baffling nature of the anguishing conversation, as if with the unapproachable men we meet in nightmares. We in the dinghy, as well as those on board, were listening anxiously. A profound silence reigned for a time. "I don't care for myself," I tried once more, speaking distinctly.
And then there were the nights, the miserable evenings and nights of separation. On the Sunday she had departed to Venice, and after she had gone, Paul had returned for one day to Lucerne, leaving again on the Monday, apparently as unacquainted with Madame Zalenska as he had been the first night of his arrival. He had not seen her since Saturday. Three whole days of anguishing longing.
Sometimes the sight of John struggling to utter in anguishing whispers the thing that was rendering him helpless was far funnier than Mark Twain himself, and Elizabeth and Charles Stuart would roll over on the grass in shrieks of laughter long before they heard what the joke was about.
Incarcerated in one of the iron-barred rooms of that dismal place, those dark, glowing eyes, lofty brow, and graceful form wilted down like a plucked rose under a noonday sun, while deep in her heart's ambrosial cells was the most anguishing distress.
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