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Updated: May 23, 2025
Had I been well enough, I believe I should have gone to my grandfather, to throw myself on his good-nature; such was the brain's wise counsel: but I was all nerves and alarms, insomuch that I interdicted Temple's writing to Janet, lest it should bring on me letters from my aunt Dorothy, full of advice that could no longer be followed, well-meant cautions that might as well be addressed to the mile-posts behind me.
ARDEN: Filaments The slenderest ever woven about a brain From the brain's mists, by the little sprite called Fancy. A breath would scatter them; but that one breath Must come of animation. When the heart Is as, a frozen sea the brain spins webs. ASTRAEA: 'Tis very singular! I understand. You translate cleverly. I hear in verse My uncle Homeware's prose. He has these notions.
Had I been well enough, I believe I should have gone to my grandfather, to throw myself on his good-nature; such was the brain's wise counsel: but I was all nerves and alarms, insomuch that I interdicted Temple's writing to Janet, lest it should bring on me letters from my aunt Dorothy, full of advice that could no longer be followed, well-meant cautions that might as well be addressed to the mile-posts behind me.
To his intense astonishment the midshipman threw himself back upon his rough couch again. "All right," he said; "I know what it means when you're all alone in the stillness here and your brain's at work conjuring up all sorts of horrible things. You've behaved very handsomely to me, old fellow, and I'm not going to be such a miserable beggar as to go and leave you in the lurch.
I sat down in the cemetery and enjoyed the fresh air. One thought came into my head " "One?" asked Yegor. Fetching breath, he added: "I suppose it won't feel crowded there." Vyesovshchikov laughed without taking offense, and shook his head. "Well, my brain's not so empty now as it used to be. And you, Yegor Ivanovich, still sick?" "Each one does what he can.
Her heart began to flutter at mere thought of the word, and her mind, against her modest maiden will, involuntarily turned to the youth who had so splendidly sprung to their rescue from the malign Moresco. Ah, how strong, how handsome he had been as he had thrown himself upon the big Italian! She blushed before her own brain's boldness.
Wigan's doctrine of the brain's being a double organ, its hemispheres working together like the two eyes, accounts for it. One of the hemispheres hangs fire, they suppose, and the small interval between the perceptions of the nimble and the sluggish half seems an indefinitely long period, and therefore the second perception appears to be the copy of another, ever so old.
I've investigated till my brain's tired and I haven't made out more than half a dozen whom I can say for certain are in the business. There's your pal, the Portuguese Jew, Dick. Another's a woman in Genoa, a princess of some sort married to a Greek financier. One's the editor of a pro-Ally up-country paper in the Argentine. One passes as a Baptist minister in Colorado.
No man who has not built up his system during a long expedition with brick after brick of pork fried hard in its own ooze, who has not turned all his brain's active phosphorus into phosphate of soda by alkali-biscuits drawn from the oven in the hot-dough stage, who has not drunk his pease-coffee without milk at the tables of repeated Pike settlers too shiftless to milk one of their fifty kine, who has not slept myriads in a bed with Cimex lectularius and his livelier congener of the saltatory habits, can imagine what a blissful bay in the iron-bound coast of bad-living Sisson's seemed to us both in fruition and retrospection.
Heretofore too, as I have heard, they hated the brain of animals so much, that they detested the very name of it; as when Homer says, "I esteem him at a brain's worth." And even now we know some old men, not bearing to taste cucumber, melon, orange, or pepper.
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