updated_at,id,text,theme,metaphor,work_id,reviewed_on,provenance,created_at,comments,context,dictionary
2013-06-18 16:31:12 UTC,20944,"'Ah Madam (says he) would Heaven would no other ways look upon, than I behold your Perfections--Wrong not your Creature with a Thought, he can be guilty of that horrid Impiety as once to doubt your Vertue.--Heavens! (cry'd he, starting up) am I so really blessed to see you once again! May I trust my Sight?--Or does my fancy now only more strongly work?--For still I did preserve your Image in my Heart, and you were ever present to my dearest Thoughts.--'
(p. 110)","","""For still I did preserve your Image in my Heart, and you were ever present to my dearest Thoughts.""",7475,,C-H Lion,2013-06-18 16:31:12 UTC,"","",""
2013-06-18 21:15:25 UTC,20964,"But as we are jogging it along for London (before he was Dead all this was) what shou'd we light upon in the fide of a warm Hedge, but of all the Birds i'the Sky--my Brother Cuckoo!--Was n't that a very strange thing, Brother Critick?--No truly, not strange at all--but what follows is stranger--over against this Hedge was another Hedge, and in that Hedge over against this Hedge was an old Ivy-Bush, and in that Ivy-Bush was an Owl.--Now, it being towards Evening, and a fine Summers Evening 'twas as one shou'd see in a Summers Day, what do's the Cuckoo but crys--Cuc-koo? what do's the Owl but fall a laughing and Whittoow-hooing? what do I but stand still, and let my Horse graze between 'em both to hear their melody? If you are any thing learned, I'm sure you have heard of Apollonius's understanding the Sparrows Language, and why may not I as well the Owls and Cuckoos--O thought I wi' my self, what a brave Recorder that Cuckoo's Bill wou'd make? and then the Owls wou'd do for a Flagilet, to a wonder--But while I was admiring their Skill and Harmony, I was so ravish'd with their Charming Musick; that cou'd you believe it, That I fell stark asleep under the Tree, and my Mind being full of the Idea's which were in my Head, e're I fell asleep, they seem'd still to continue their Discourse, which now I understood better so than while waking, warbling out between 'em this following Song--in Stylo recitativo--But now I think on't, tho' I understood it, you won't, and therefore I'll not be at the pains and charge of having new Characters cast to express their Language; for it neither begins from the left to the right as ours, nor from the right to the left as the Eastern, nor from top to bottom, nor bottom to top, as others--nor any way else that you or I can imagine, because 'twas inarticulate, and no language at all. Don't call this trifling, for 'tis all in order to describe the loveliest Trees, Hedge and Field t'ye that you ever saw or heard of.
(I.vi, p. 125)","","""But while I was admiring their Skill and Harmony, I was so ravish'd with their Charming Musick; that cou'd you believe it, That I fell stark asleep under the Tree, and my Mind being full of the Idea's which were in my Head, e're I fell asleep, they seem'd still to continue their Discourse, which now I understood better so than while waking, warbling out between 'em this following Song--in Stylo recitativo.""",7476,,C-H Lion,2013-06-18 21:15:25 UTC,"","",""
2013-06-18 21:34:23 UTC,20971,"How,--Evander not understand true English, who has been an Author these three and twenty years, and cou'd almost read his Criss cross-row in his Mother's Belly! Who has so many English Dictionaries in his Study, and another in his Head bigger than all together (and yet there's still room to spare both for Brains and Projects) Does not he?--nay--now you ruffle his smooth Soul, alter his fair Body, and discompose him all over.--If ye go on at this rate, with making Objections, a Man does not know how to answer (for their number, I mean not their weight) ye shall e'ne write your self, and let the World laugh at ye, for Evander will be your Fool no longer.--But not to overrule this Plea, we'll for once joyn issue, and giv't a fair Answer.
(II, p. 17)","","""Who has so many English Dictionaries in his Study, and another in his Head bigger than all together (and yet there's still room to spare both for Brains and Projects) Does not he?--nay--now you ruffle his smooth Soul, alter his fair Body, and discompose him all over.""",7476,,C-H Lion,2013-06-18 21:34:23 UTC,"","",Writing
2013-06-18 21:41:06 UTC,20976,"Thus might I have e'ne gone on to Doomsday without their minding a word I said, for by this time the Fumes of the Liquor, which it seems they had been tunning in all that day, conquer'd that little Reason they had left, and threw 'em all into a bruitish sleep; where I e'ne left 'em to snore and stink together, while I full glad of my happy Gaol-delivery, Bow-bell now ringing, got quietly home to my Masters, having had enough of their Company and Discourse, which made my Hair stand an end when I thought on't; and being sufficiently warn'd from ever coming amongst 'em afterwards.
(II, pp. 56-7)","","""Thus might I have e'ne gone on to Doomsday without their minding a word I said, for by this time the Fumes of the Liquor, which it seems they had been tunning in all that day, conquer'd that little Reason they had left, and threw 'em all into a bruitish sleep.""",7476,,C-H Lion,2013-06-18 21:41:06 UTC,"","",Empire
2013-06-19 01:30:34 UTC,20983,"Instead of those sage and grave Notions that used to fill my Head, 'twas cramm'd top full of Whimseys and Whirligigs, by the vehement agitation of my distemper'd Fancy, as ever a Carkase-shell with Instruments of Death and Murder. I was nothing but all Flame and Fire, and the red-hot Thoughts glared about my Brains at such a rate, and if visible, wou'd, I fancy, have made just such a dreadful Appearance as the Window of a Glass-house discovers in a dark Night--viz. a parcel of stragling fiery Globes marching about and hizzing, appearing and vanishing high and low, transverse, and every where--which at length in a few days blew up my Head like a Bottle, and I had a Fire as uninterrupted, and I think as hot as that we talk of, rolling all over me, boiling my very Bowels into Tripes, and frying my poor Heart in its own Water, till I fancy it looked like the broyl'd Soul of a Goose, or a piece of Cheese tosted over the Candle. When poor Evander drunk, as my Nurse knows that was not often, 'twas like the slaking of Iron in Water, or rather the Taylor's spitting upon his Goose, where the little drops of moisture only stink and sputter, and fly off agen; and I can hardly perswade my self but if any Virtuoso had out of curiosity listen'd at my Back-Door, they might have easily heard the small Beer and Posset-drink hizz within me, as it came down into my Bowels.
(II, pp. 42-3)","","""Instead of those sage and grave Notions that used to fill my Head, 'twas cramm'd top full of Whimseys and Whirligigs, by the vehement agitation of my distemper'd Fancy, as ever a Carkase-shell with Instruments of Death and Murder.""",7476,,C-H Lion,2013-06-19 01:29:45 UTC,"Carcass-Shell in OED. Also Chambers: ""Carcass, or Carcuss, in War, a kind of Bomb, usually oblong, or oval, rarely circular; consisting of a Shell, or Case, sometimes of Iron, with Holes; more commonly of a coarse strong Stuff, pitch'd over, and girt with Iron Hoops; fill'd with combustible Matters.""","",""
2013-06-19 01:34:25 UTC,20984,"Instead of those sage and grave Notions that used to fill my Head, 'twas cramm'd top full of Whimseys and Whirligigs, by the vehement agitation of my distemper'd Fancy, as ever a Carkase-shell with Instruments of Death and Murder. I was nothing but all Flame and Fire, and the red-hot Thoughts glared about my Brains at such a rate, and if visible, wou'd, I fancy, have made just such a dreadful Appearance as the Window of a Glass-house discovers in a dark Night--viz. a parcel of stragling fiery Globes marching about and hizzing, appearing and vanishing high and low, transverse, and every where--which at length in a few days blew up my Head like a Bottle, and I had a Fire as uninterrupted, and I think as hot as that we talk of, rolling all over me, boiling my very Bowels into Tripes, and frying my poor Heart in its own Water, till I fancy it looked like the broyl'd Soul of a Goose, or a piece of Cheese tosted over the Candle. When poor Evander drunk, as my Nurse knows that was not often, 'twas like the slaking of Iron in Water, or rather the Taylor's spitting upon his Goose, where the little drops of moisture only stink and sputter, and fly off agen; and I can hardly perswade my self but if any Virtuoso had out of curiosity listen'd at my Back-Door, they might have easily heard the small Beer and Posset-drink hizz within me, as it came down into my Bowels.
(II, pp. 42-3)","","""I was nothing but all Flame and Fire, and the red-hot Thoughts glared about my Brains at such a rate, and if visible, wou'd, I fancy, have made just such a dreadful Appearance as the Window of a Glass-house discovers in a dark Night--viz. a parcel of stragling fiery Globes marching about and hizzing, appearing and vanishing high and low, transverse, and every where--which at length in a few days blew up my Head like a Bottle, and I had a Fire as uninterrupted, and I think as hot as that we talk of, rolling all over me, boiling my very Bowels into Tripes, and frying my poor Heart in its own Water, till I fancy it looked like the broyl'd Soul of a Goose, or a piece of Cheese tosted over the Candle.""",7476,,C-H Lion,2013-06-19 01:34:25 UTC,INTEREST. CRAZY METAPHOR.,"",Rooms
2013-06-19 01:42:39 UTC,20989,"'Tis true, I have always an Idea in my Soul which presents me a better form than what I have in this Book made use of, but I cannot catch it, nor fit it to my purpose. I can neither please nor delight my self, much less ravish any one. The best Story in the World would be spoyl'd by my handling. If therefore I transplant any of others Notions into my own soil, and confound them among my own, I purposely conceal the Author, to awe the temerity of those precipitous Censures that fall upon all sorts of Writings: I will have my Reader wound Plutarch through my sides, and rail against Seneca, when they think they rail at me; I must shelter my own weakness under these great Reputations.
(III, p. 25)","","""'Tis true, I have always an Idea in my Soul which presents me a better form than what I have in this Book made use of, but I cannot catch it, nor fit it to my purpose.""",7476,,C-H Lion,2013-06-19 01:42:39 UTC,"","",""
2013-06-19 02:02:27 UTC,20992,"'My very Brains (as Manichæus's Skin) are stuff'd with Chaff. I am ever sick of a Diabete; nor do I read but weed Authors, picking up cheap, and refuse Notes, and then with Domitian, retire into my Study to catch Flies.
'Were there any Metempsychosis, my Soul would want a Lodging, no single Beast could fit me; for I shou'd out of pure love to novelty change more Lodgings than ever Pythagoras's Soul did. Twice every day a thousand Fancies and Fegaries crowd into my Noddle so thick as if my Brain kept open-house for all the Maggots in nature.
(III, pp. 29-30)","","'My very Brains (as Manichæus's Skin) are stuff'd with Chaff.""",7476,,C-H Lion,2013-06-19 02:02:27 UTC,"From WWW: ""The king of Persia [not named], hearing that he worked miracles, sent for him to heal his sick son, and on the child's dying put Manes in prison. Thence he escaped, flying into Mesopotamia, but was traced, captured, and flayed alive by the Persian king's orders, the skin being then stuffed with chaff and hung up before the gate of the city.""","",""
2013-06-19 02:50:59 UTC,21010,"Reader, you are now to suppose me within sight of my Father's House: which as soon as e're I saw, Oh how did my Blood frisk and caper in every Vein! Oh the Oceans of Delight that now flow'd within me! I seem'd even ruin'd with Transport, and undone with Pleasure! my Breast was too narrow to contain my Joys!
(III, 57)","","""I seem'd even ruin'd with Transport, and undone with Pleasure! my Breast was too narrow to contain my Joys!""",7476,,C-H Lion,2013-06-19 02:50:59 UTC,"","",""
2013-06-30 16:03:33 UTC,21314,"Prety Mrs. Bridget,
I have directed this Letter to your Brothers, in whom you say, you can confide. Be careful of my Affair, and you shall find me faithful to my Promise. Five hundred Pounds, Mrs. Bridget, will marry thee to a substantial Country Gentleman; nay, what's more I'll engage to get thee a good Husband into the Bargain, if thou wilt but first provide me a Wife. Mind exactly my Directions, to time your speaking to thy Mistress and mine of me, and Love. Take her in a Morning, when she has all the remembrance of pleasing Dreams, with their Impressions on her, before ill-humour, and moroseness are awake; or else when she's newly got to Bed, her severer Thoughts being long since gone to rest, tir'd out with the hard Duty of the Day. Watch her softest hours, when her Soul's in Tune to join with the Harmony of Love: After her Mind has been employ'd in Romances, Plays, and Novels, then nought but sweet Ideas fill her Soul, and Love can't be denied admittance, those having so well prepar'd its way. Send me exact Advice of what Progress you make. I'll be in Town, as soon as I have dispatch'd my business here. When I return you must so contrive it, that I may once more have a private Interview with her; but so as if it were not design'd by you, the last was extreamly well order'd: But we'll better consult of that when I see you; in the mean time, dear Mrs. Bridget, be not forgetful of
Thy humble Servant,
P. Wexford
(p. 237-8)","","""Watch her softest hours, when her Soul's in Tune to join with the Harmony of Love: After her Mind has been employ'd in Romances, Plays, and Novels, then nought but sweet Ideas fill her Soul, and Love can't be denied admittance, those having so well prepar'd its way.""",7496,,C-H Lion,2013-06-30 16:03:33 UTC,"","",""