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Updated: May 3, 2025


I daresay you have almost forgotten the incident which meant so much to me, and still does. Until we meet, "Faithfully yours, "Alan Craig." "A bit stiff and formal," was his comment after rereading it several times, "but I don't think it gives much away." The two hours that followed were perhaps the dreariest he had ever spent in civilised circumstances.

During bouts of illness here, I have indulged in such debauches as the rereading of the whole of Hardy, Meredith, Stevenson, W. E. Henley's poems, and the novels of George Gissing, Joseph Conrad, and H. G. Wells. Some of the better examples of modern fiction have always had a special topographical appeal to me.

After rereading his lame excuse she sat down in a quiet corner and began to think. The first gun had been fired, the battle was on, and like a wise general she carefully marshaled her forces for combat. An hour or two later she turned to her telephone book and called up the Merrick establishment. A voice, that of a maid, evidently, answered her. "I wish to speak with Miss Merrick," said Diana.

"That sounds like Korzybski," Pierre said, as they turned onto Route 19 in the village and headed east. "You've read Science and Sanity?" Rand nodded. "Yes. I first read it in the 1933 edition, back about 1936; I've been rereading it every couple of years since. The principles of General Semantics come in very handy in my business, especially in criminal-investigation work, like this.

Yet on a recent rereading of James's biography, it seemed to me not so unsympathetic as I had remembered it; but, in effect, cordially appreciative. He touches, however, on this same point, of the effect on Hawthorne's genius of his allegorizing habit. "Hawthorne," says Mr. James, "was not in the least a realist he was not, to my mind, enough of one."

At New York, Rizal embarked on the City of Rome, then the finest steamer in the world, and after a pleasant voyage, in which his spare moments were occupied in rereading "Gulliver's Travels" in English, Rizal reached England, and said good-by to the friends whom he had met during their brief ocean trip together.

One thing should be emphasized at the outset: nothing will so often bear rereading as the history of philosophy. When we go over the ground after we have obtained a first acquaintance with the teachings of the different philosophers, we begin to realize that what we have in our hands is, in a sense, a connected whole.

While Miss Betty Sheridan, for another scornful time, was rereading the well-thumbed copy of the Sentinel, her fine back arched like a prize cat's, George Remington in his small mahogany office adjoining, neck low and heels high, was codifying, over and over again, the small planks of his platform, stuffing the knot holes which afforded peeps to the opposite side of the issue with anti-putty, and planning a bombardment of his pattest phrases for the complete capitulation of his Uncle Jaffry.

Fantômas dead! Fantômas dead in prison! I must be dreaming!" While he was rereading the astonishing news, the door of his office opened and Juve walked in. "Juve!" "Myself, Chief." "Well!" "Well," replied Juve, calmly, "I've had a pretty good trip." Brandishing the telegram, M. Annion cried: "Fantômas is dead!" "Yes ... Fantômas is dead." "What have you found out?"

A sudden rustle the other side a bush no longer brings you up all standing with your heart in your throat; but you are aware of it, and you are facing the possible danger almost before your slower brain has issued any orders to that effect. In rereading the above, I am afraid that I am conveying the idea that one here walks under the shadow of continual uneasiness. This is not in the least so.

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