Waverly Novels: Waverly. Guy Mannering

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R. Cadell, 1842
 

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Page 449 - Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God: where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me.
Page 425 - His eye-balls farther out than when he lived. Staring full ghastly like a strangled man : His hair uprear'd, his nostrils stretch'd with struggling ; His hands abroad display'd, as one that grasp'd And tugg'd for life, and was by strength subdued.
Page 524 - A man may see how this world goes, with no eyes. Look with thine ears: see how yon' justice rails upon yon' simple thief. Hark, in thine ear: Change places; and, handydandy, which is the justice, which is the thief?
Page 412 - Many murders have been discovered among them; and they are not only a most unspeakable oppression to poor tenants (who if they give not bread, or some kind of provision to perhaps forty such villains in one day, are sure to be insulted by them) but they rob many poor people who live in houses distant from any neighbourhood. In years of plenty...
Page 511 - As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds, Had been incorporate. So we grew together, Like to a double cherry, seeming parted, But yet...
Page 612 - Bring me to the test, And I the matter will re-word, which madness Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace, Lay not that flattering unction to your soul, That not your trespass, but my madness speaks.
Page 596 - A prison is a house of care. A place where none can thrive, A touchstone true to try a friend, A grave for one alive. Sometimes a place of right. Sometimes a place of wrong, Sometimes a place of rogues and thieves, And honest men among.
Page 165 - My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here, My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer, A-chasing the wild deer and following the roe — My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go!
Page 45 - ... consigned to the care of some aged butler or housekeeper, whose trembling steps, about the middle of the second volume, were doomed to guide the hero, or heroine, to the ruinous precincts ? Would not the owl have shrieked and the cricket cried in my very title-page...
Page 505 - Nor board nor garner own we now, Nor roof nor latched door. Nor kind mate, bound, by holy vow, To bless a good man's store. Noon lulls us in a gloomy den, And night is grown our day; Uprouse ye, then, my merry men! And use it as ye may.

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