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Updated: April 30, 2025
He was perfectly satisfied with the no-place, no-where with the vague temple, or palace hall, or public square where, as in the country of the abstract, the action of pseudo-classic tragedy always takes place, or, more properly speaking, the talking of pseudo-classic tragedy always goes on; he was perfectly satisfied with sending in a servant or a messenger to inform the public of a murder or suicide committed behind the scenes; he was perfectly satisfied with taking up a story, so to speak, at the eleventh hour, without tracing it to its original causes or developing it through its various phases.
The Parson at his side was stroking his calves. The boy watched him with dreamy eyes. "Are you hurt, sir?" he asked in a far-away voice. It came from the depths of no-where. It seemed no longer his. He listened to it with awe. "Nothing that matters," replied the Parson. "Thank God for His great mercies, and my dear lady here." Lifting his sword, he kissed the hilt.
The brain, then, does nothing more than combine ideas which it has already formed, which it recalls to itself, from which it forms a whole, or a collection of modifications, which it has not received, which exists no-where but in itself, although the individual ideas, or the parts of which this ideal whole is composed, have been previously communicated to it, in consequence of the impulse given to the senses by exterior objects: it is thus man forms to himself the idea of centaurs, or a being composed of a man and a horse, of hyppogriffs, or a being composed of a horse with wings and a griffin, besides a thousand other objects, equally ridiculous.
"Oh no, no!" he exclaimed with rapidity; "since you are saved, all is well but time presses it is necessary I should presently depart no-where ought I now to tarry least of all, within this castle Once more, Amelot, let them get to horse!" "Nay, my good lord." said the damsel, "this must not be.
Then, just as he was turning away with Betty, he came back to her, unexpectedly. "I should like to tell you about Hallin," he said gently. "His sister writes to me that she is happier about him, and that she hopes to be able to keep him away another fortnight. They are at Keswick." For an instant there was pleasure in the implication of common ground, a common interest here if no-where else.
All she knew was that she must not stay there. Here was nowhere; walking on she might come somewhere that is, among human beings! So out she set on her weary travel from no-where to somewhere, giving Nature little thanks. She did not suspect that her grandmother had been doing anything for her by the space around her, or that now, by the tracklessness, the lostness, she was doing yet more.
Benny was no-where to be found. At last his father saw him sitting under a large poke-weed. He was making pictures. He had squeezed the juice out of some poke-berries. The juice of poke-berries is deep red. With this the boy had made his pictures. When the father looked at them, he was surprised. There were portraits of every member of the family. His father knew every picture.
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