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Updated: May 20, 2025
They were returning, as a yeoman told Tibble, from some great ecclesiastical ceremony, and dinner would be served instantly. "That for which Ralf Bowyer lives!" said a voice close by, "He would fain that the dial's hands were Marie bones, the face blancmange, wherein the figures should be grapes of Corinth!"
You will want some rhyming couplet out of a mythology before you are content." She laughed again. "Sir," answered she, "but you have wit, if you can but be got angry." She leaned over the dial's face, and began to draw the Latin numerals with her finger. So arch, withal, that I forgot my ill-humour. "If you would but agree to stay angry for a day," she went on, in a low tone, "perhaps "
You will want some rhyming couplet out of a mythology before you are content." She laughed again. "Sir," answered she, "but you have wit, if you can but be got angry." She leaned over the dial's face, and began to draw the Latin numerals with her finger. So arch, withal, that I forgot my ill-humour. "If you would but agree to stay angry for a day," she went on, in a low tone, "perhaps "
To all Carlyle's complaints of "The Dial's" short-comings Emerson did not pretend to give any satisfactory answer, but his plea of guilty, with extenuating circumstances, is very honest and definite. "For the Dial and its sins, I have no defence to set up. We write as we can, and we know very little about it.
To all Carlyle's complaints of "The Dial's" short-comings Emerson did not pretend to give any satisfactory answer, but his plea of guilty, with extenuating circumstances, is very honest and definite. "For the Dial and its sins, I have no defence to set up. We write as we can, and we know very little about it.
Jimmie Dale's slim, sensitive fingers closed on the dial's knob, his head touched the steel front of the safe as he pressed his ear against it for the tumblers' fall. And then silence.
They were returning, as a yeoman told Tibble, from some great ecclesiastical ceremony, and dinner would be served instantly. "That for which Ralf Bowyer lives!" said a voice close by. "He would fain that the dial's hands were Marie bones, the face blancmange, wherein the figures should be grapes of Corinth!"
I was standing over against her, my arm resting upon the dial's stone column. The sun was sinking, casting long shadows on the velvety grass, illuminating with a golden light her upturned face. "I would you were some great queen of olden days, and that I might be always near you, serving you, doing your bidding. Your love in return would spoil all; I shall never ask it, never desire it.
You will want some rhyming couplet out of a mythology before you are content." She laughed again. "Sir," answered she, "but you have wit, if you can but be got angry." She leaned over the dial's face, and began to draw the Latin numerals with her finger. So arch, withal, that I forgot my ill-humour. "If you would but agree to stay angry for a day," she went on, in a low tone, "perhaps "
The child looked into her brother's face, and laughed a gleesome laugh, one of those burstings of a joyous heart that come, we know not how, but never come after the dancing pulse of youth changes into a measured time, when we look upon the dial's hand, and note that hours are passing.
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