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Since then her happiness had been perfect. Literally and truly there was not a cloud, not a mote in her sunshine. She had everything the love of her husband, great wealth, extraordinary beauty, perfect health, an untroubled mind, friends, position everything. God had been good to her, beyond all dreams and all deserving.
Hollingsworth could have no fault. That was the one principle at the centre of the universe. And the doubtful guilt or possible integrity of other people, appearances, self-evident facts, the testimony of her own senses, even Hollingsworth's self-accusation, had he volunteered it, would have weighed not the value of a mote of thistledown on the other side.
"Oh heaven! that there were but a mote in yours, A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wand'ring hair, Any annoyance in that precious sense! Then, feeling what small things are boist'rous there, Your vile intent must needs seem horrible." What ought to be done in a case of choking?
George worshiped money; Alexa worshiped birth and land. Our own way of being wrong is all right in our own eyes; our neighbor's way of being wrong is offensive to all that is good in us. We are anxious therefore, kindly anxious, to pull the mote out of his eye, never thinking of the big beam in the way of the operation. Jesus labored to show us that our immediate business is to be right ourselves.
At first you imagine they are motes clogging the delicate blood-vessels of the retina; then you wonder if a distant host of falling meteors could have passed. Soon a larger, nearer mote appears; the moon and its craters are forgotten and with a thrill of delight you realise that they are birds living, flying birds of all earthly things typical of the most vital life!
What is a mote of dust in another's eye, in yours is a cataract. You are mad at your blindness, and fight the air because you can't see." "I feel that I see very little, especially when I understand the clearness of your vision. Your good sense is monstrous." "It will come right somehow, with you; when twenty years are wasted, maybe," she answered sadly. "There's the first bell!
There was nobody of their party outside now. The landing-stair withdrew after them. Then monstrous, incredible masses of flame and steam burst from the bottom of the rotund space-ship. It lifted, slowly at first, but then more and more swiftly. It climbed to the sky. It became a speck, and then a mote at the crawling end of a trail of opaque white emergency-rocket fumes. Then it vanished.
Faith, I'd like to appear dacent in the thing, anyhow." "True," said the priest. "Have you made no provision for smoothing the externals of your admirer? Is he to appear in this trim?" "Bedad, sir," said Phelim, "we never thought o' that. All the world knows, your Reverence, that I might carry my purse in my eye, an' never feel a mote in it.
Our countryman, in the end of his characters, before the Canterbury Tales, thus excuses the ribaldry, which is very gross in many of his novels: But first, I pray you of your courtesy, That ye ne arrete it nought my villany, Though that I plainly speak in this mattere To tellen you her words, and eke her chere: Ne though I speak her words properly, For this ye knowen as well as I, Who shall tellen a tale after a man, He mote rehearse as nye as ever he can: Everich word of it been in his charge, All speke he never so rudely ne large.
How blest were we as 'death one roof we dwelt * Conjoined in joys nor recking aught of woe; Till Fortune shot us pith the severance shaft; * Ah who shall patient bear such parting throe? And dart of Death struck down amid the tribe * The age's pearl that Morn saw brightest show: I cried the while his case took speech and said: * Would Heaven, my son, Death mote his doom foreslow!
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