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Updated: May 9, 2025


He ought to feel for me," she said, feeling tears of self-pity coming into her eyes. She heard Vronsky's abrupt ring and hurriedly dried her tears not only dried her tears, but sat down by a lamp and opened a book, affecting composure.

She was just a wicked, bad, horrid girl who had somehow got something that belonged to Ida May Bostwick, and meant to keep it if she could. Self-pity filled the visitor's mind in place of the fury she had expended in her first outburst.

"I got a lift in a luggage train from Lawson to Springwood, and a ride in a cart for a little way, but I walked the rest. I've been nearly a week coming," she added after a pause, and shut her eyes again for quite a long time. Then a tear or two of weakness and self-pity trickled from beneath her black lashes, and made a little clean mark down her cheeks.

I am starving, gentlemen," he said half turning away suffused in his own self-pity, "do not trifle with me." He appealed to Josef. "Is this true what they say, Josef-Petros, or whatever your name is?" "It is true, Your Majesty." "A King! A King!" exclaimed the astonished artist. "But still a King without a kingdom a table without meat. A mockery of greatness after all.

But the more she leaned on a man of self-control, the more she admired; and an admiration that may not speak itself to the object present drops inward, stirs the founts; and if these are repressed, the tenderness which is not allowed to weep will drown self-pity, hardening the woman to summon scruples in relation to her unworthiness.

In some measure my efforts at kindly speech succeeded, and her "Ah, Cristo!" as she turned to go away, was not without a touch of solace. In 1892 Gissing was already beginning to try and discard his down look, his lugubrious self-pity, his lamentable cadence.

Her story became pathetic in spite of her self-pity as she related the hardships of that settlement in the wilds, and described her loneliness, her shivering terror when her husband was away hauling logs for their first home, and news came that the slave-traders from Missouri had made another raid upon the scattered Abolitionist farmers.

Is it "that touch of nature which makes the whole world kin"? Is it the perfect self-forgetfulness of the children? Is it a touch of self-pity that the radiant visions of our childhood days have been dispelled, and the years have brought the "inevitable yoke"? Or is it the touching sight of so much happiness contrasted with what we know the home life to be?

He was intended, by nature, to be mysterious and malevolent, and had he only had a malevolent spirit there would have been no tragedy but in the confused welter that he called his soul, malevolence was the least of the elements, and other things love, sympathy, twisted self-pity, ambition, courage, and cowardice drowned it.

Harrow us, he can; play upon many of our emotions, he is able to at will. But, at bottom, he had too little sympathy with his fellows to find in their mistakes, or sins, or sufferings, the wherewithal to bring out of us our most generous tears. Those he wept once or twice himself when writing were drawn from him by a reflex self-pity that is easily evoked.

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