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Updated: May 9, 2025
'Twere better that my Life were lost, than Fortune For that being gone, Celinda must not love me. I'll kill my self but then I kill Celinda. Shou'd I obey this Tyrant then too she dies. Lord. Was I call'd back for this? Bel. Yet, stay, Sir Have you lost all Humanity? Have you no Sense of Honour, nor of Horrors? Lord. Away with him go, be gone. Bel. Stay, Sir. Oh, God! what is't you'd have me do?
'I saw ye lookin' at her a meenit ago, Maister Graham, an' maybe ye was thinkin' the same as me, that she's no' lang for this world. Is't no' a sin an' a shame for a cratur like that to work in a place like this? but it's waur, if it be true, as folk say, that there's nae need for it.
And through me the tackle of the barber, is't not a rusty and abominated weapon, and as a sword thrown by and broken, for that it dishonoured us? Surely, too, I have esteemed Shagpat precious. While he spake, the King gazed on Shagpat, and was checked by passion at beholding him under the lather, so that the people praised Shagpat and the King.
His mother died, the only friend he had, Some tears escaped, but his philosophy Couched like a cat, sat watching close behind And throttled all his passion. Is't not like That devil-spider that devours her mate Scarce freed from her embraces?" The same feeling comes out in the Poem "Blight," where he says the "young scholars who invade our hills"
"What is't?" he said, startled by her white face and troubled eyes. "The two of them," she said, "have gone out on to the moor in this mist. It isn't safe." "Whatever for?" he asked. "How should I know? She went out first and now he's after her. 'Tisn't safe, Jim. You'd best follow them." He didn't argue with her, being an obedient husband disciplined by many years of matrimony.
'Mercy me, miss, is't you? an' me in a perfick potch, she said apologetically. 'No' a corner for ye to step dry on, nor a seat to sit doon on. Could ye no' jist tak' a walk the length o' the auld place or I redd up a wee? 'No, no, Mrs. Macintyre, replied Gladys, with a laugh. 'Never mind, I'll get a seat somewhere.
I'm no sayin' 'at a man's no ane o' the elec' that hasna had that favour vouchsaufed to him; but this I do say, that he canna ken his election wi'oot that. Try ye to get a sicht o' the face o' God, lassie: syne ye'll ken and be at peace. Even Moses himsel' cudna be saitisfeed wi'oot that." "What is't like, Thomas?" said Annie, with an eagerness which awe made very still. "No words can tell that.
Here are three or four of your closest friends terribly keen to see the inside of a wall." "Barbreck, is't?" cried Para Mor, holding the flambeau over his head that he might look down on us. "Who's that with the red tartan?" he asked, speaking of MacLachlan, whose garments shone garish in the light beside our dull Campbell country war-cloth.
'For you and me, and twenty or thirty mair, mebbe I dinna ken, replied Kirsty. 'I s' mak ye a present o' my room intil 't, returned Steenie. 'I want nane o' 't. 'Ill gang doon wi' the can'le, said Kirsty, 'and see whether 't be a place for ye. Gien I cry oot, "Ay is't," wull ye come? 'That I wull, gien 't war the whaul's belly! replied Steenie.
Are ye sure ye're no' the principal o' Edinburgh University? Tak' yir time and try again. I'm enjoying it. Is't by the hundred ye sell them, and wud it be a leeberty to ask for whose preserves? Dash the soople tongue o' ye. "If ye dare to put yir hand in a pocket, I'll lodge a charge o' shot in ye: we'ill hae nae pistol-work in Kilspindie Woods.
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