Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 13, 2025
He does hot die of self-loathing! how then could he imagine the horror of disgust with which a glimpse of him such as he is would blast the soul of the woman? Yet has he what is it? the virtue? the pride? or the cruel insolence? to shrink with rudest abhorrence from one who is, in nature and history and ruin, his fitting and proper mate!
It is probable that remorse would have tortured him even further, had he not chanced to turn absently to page forty-six and read a poem entitled "Love's Funeral." It was not a long poem, and he had finished it inside of two minutes; but by that time a change had come upon his mood of self-loathing. He no longer felt like a particularly mean murderer. "Love's Funeral" was like a tonic.
"He was dejected, embittered, wearied; sick of his way of livelihood, sick of the atmosphere he moved in, sick of his reflections, sick of himself. Life had got to be stale, flat, and unprofitable. His self-loathing, which steadily grew, would have become a maddening torture if he hadn't found refuge in a stony apathy.
He had sworn it, and, sick at heart, he remembered that in her eyes at least he was a man of honour. It had been in his mind to tell her the simple truth, just so far as he himself was concerned, and thereafter to place himself at her disposal to act exactly as she should desire. But suddenly this was an impossibility to him. He realised it with desperate self-loathing. She trusted him.
"All persons voice some regret or another at meeting me. And it does not ever matter." "But if there were no choosing in the affair, I could make shift to endure it, either way. Now one of us, you tell me, must depart with you. If I say, 'Let Niafer be that one, I must always recall that saying with self-loathing." "But I too say it!" Niafer was petting him and trembling.
All the return journey Scarborough stared moodily out of the car window. And at every movement that disturbed his clothing there rose to nauseate him, to fill him with self-loathing, the odors of strong, sickening-sweet perfumes. The next day but one, as he was in the woods near Indian Rock, he saw Olivia coming toward him. They had hardly spoken for several months.
In the course of the last eight holes the girl's haughty soul had been rudely harrowed. She had foozled two drives and three approach shots and had missed a short putt on the last green but three. She had that consciousness of sin which afflicts the golfer off his game, that curious self-loathing which humbles the proudest.
It seems to me as if there weren't any words to speak such thoughts and feelings. 'Is that because you don't value the words? 'she . asked him. 'Don't you think that if you felt what the words do mean that they'd seem enough for you? 'I know I'm a good-for-nothing beggar, he answered, with a sudden air of weary self-loathing and disdain. 'I know.
The brown man sat down in an ancient rocking-chair by the window, leaned back, and closed his eyes. His blood still whispered in his ears from his fight. Notwithstanding his justification, he gradually became filled with self-loathing. To fight to hammer and kick in Niggertown's dust over a girl! It was an indignity. Peter shifted his position in his chair, and his thoughts took another trail.
Self-loathing, and that for no sin, from no repentance, from no vision of better, would begin and grow and grow; and to what it might not come no soul can tell of essential, original misery, uncompromising self disgust! Only, then, if a being be capable of self-disgust, is there not some room for hope as much as a pinch of earth in the cleft of a rock might yield for the growth of a pine?
Word Of The Day
Others Looking