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Updated: April 30, 2025
Could Samuel offer that filial affection which should have blessed all these empty years? A wickedly ludicrous memory forbade the solemnity of a reconciliation: below any attempt the father might make, there would be a grin, somewhere; below any attempt the son might make, there would be a cringe, somewhere. The only possible hope was in absolute, flat commonplace.
And so he accepts his suffering, but is not discouraged thereby; not for him are the chains that it fastens on those who cringe down before it, unaware that it is but a messenger sent by a mightier personage, whom a bend in the road hides from view.
'And, thought they, 'what time so fit to do this in as now, when he has the bridle of Mansoul in his hand? And this I took special notice of, that the inhabitants, notwithstanding all this, could not no, they could not, when they see him march through the town, but cringe, bow, bend, and were ready to lick the dust of his feet.
Realizing that his parish had always been lawless, it occurred to him that the office of sheriff would compel an exercise of whatever courage he had in him. It had been absurdly easy to win the election, but afterward the memory of the bitter fight which followed often made him cringe. Strangely enough, his theory had not worked out.
If so if it might be the world would be my toy, to play with as I like! "If that could happen, kings and emperors would have to cringe and crawl to me, like my hordes of serfs all over this broad land.
Malcolm Everett was not one to acknowledge superiority where there was none, and though ever polite toward Mrs. Livingstone, there was something in his manner which forbade her treating him as aught save an equal. He was not to be trampled down, and for once in her life Mrs. Livingstone had found a person who would neither cringe to her nor flatter.
They seemed rather to meet the pointed bayonet, than to run or cringe from it; but, when they saw that we did not lay on them the finger of harm, they kissed our feet and then the earth, in token of gratitude.
"What I want is the sight of it and rest," almost whimpered the elder lady. "Will our horses last?" asked Clara. "Mine seems to suffer a great deal." "They must last," replied Thurstane, grinding his teeth quite privately. "Oh, yes, they will last," he immediately added. "Even if they don't, we have mules enough." "But how they moan! It makes me cringe to hear them."
He dwelt with time and eternity on a footing of familiar equality. He did not shrink or cringe. His prayers were sweet meditations and his sermon a lecture. He was the apostle of beauty, goodness, and truth. Lexington Road from East Lexington to the Centre is a succession of historic spots marked by stones and tablets.
Pixley took him from the train, the dog was led through crowds of people and bustling, noisy streets that made Jan cringe and cower. At last they reached a place where water stretched so far that it touched the sky, and the water kept moving all the time.
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