I used to look about sometimes with a kind of envy at the eager attentive faces of his class. Judge of my surprise when, one day, a warm friend of Charlie's came to me, privately, and said, "Charlie P. is drinking." "Impossible," said I. "Alas!" said he, "it is too true. I have talked with him time and again. He promises reform, but keeps no promise.
Such is the destiny of great men; their superior genius exposes them to the poisoned arrows of calumny and envy. I am about getting a Translation made of the Treatise on God, the Soul, and the World," Translation done by an Excellency Suhm, as has been hinted, "from the pen of the same Author.
She was constantly tormented by jealousy, that embittered her mind and consumed her life, a jealousy that was inconsolable for the very reason that it had no real foundation. The consciousness of her ugliness brought with it a sadness, an insatiable envy of everyone, a desire to die but to kill the world first, that she might drag it down with her in her fall.
Nay, the open violence and abandonment of her grief seemed to the more restrained and concentrated nature of her elder a sign of shallowness and want of durability; and in a certain contemptuous envy at her professing a right to mourn, Diane never even reconsidered her own resolution to play out her father's game, consign Eustacie to her husband's murdered, and leave her to console herself with bridal splendours and a choice of admirers from all the court.
"There is one thing," he remarked meditatively, "which I can't help thinking about you Britishers. You may deserve it or you may not, but you do have the most almighty luck." "Sheer envy," Hamel murmured. "We escape from our tight corners by forethought." "Not on your life, sir," Mr. Dunster declared vigorously.
Theon sent me breathless at once with running and with envy Go! favourite of the unjust gods! 'Who is Theon? 'Her father, ignorant! He commands thee to be at her house here-opposite to-morrow at the third hour. Hear and obey! There they are coming out of the Museum, and all the parasols will get wrong!
"My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: 'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness, That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease. . . . . . . "Darkling I listen; and for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy!
No, if you could but see him asking my commands, to know at what hour he may come to take me by surprise, of course and pouring out respectful speeches like a so-called gentleman, you would say, 'Why, he adores her! and there is not a woman in the world who would not say the same." "And they envy us, my dear!" exclaimed Esther.
Sandal's indifference to every one but Harry, and Charlotte's envy, until they had persuaded themselves that they were the only respectable and intelligent members of the family. Naturally Sophia's nature deteriorated under this isolating process. She grew secretive and suspicious. Her love-affairs assumed a proportion which put her in false relations to all the rest of the world.
He knew, now, that the golden chariots were not gold at all but only gilded. He knew, now, that those wondrous beings who wore the glittering, spangled, costumes, were only very common and very ordinary men and women. He did not, now, envy the riders in the procession or the performers in the tent.
Word Of The Day