id,comments,provenance,dictionary,created_at,reviewed_on,work_id,theme,context,updated_at,metaphor,text
19550,"Great, disgusting, spermatick stream of consciousness",Reading,"",2012-01-30 17:53:31 UTC,,5088,"","Volume III, Chapter 9",2012-01-30 17:53:31 UTC,"""But here, you must distinguish--the thought floated only in Dr. Slop's mind, without sail or ballast to it, as a simple proposition; millions of which, as your worship knows, are every day swiming quietly in the middle of the thin juice of a man's understanding, without being carried backwards or forwards, till some little gusts of passion or interest drive them to one side.""","Great wits jump: for the moment Dr. Slop cast his eyes upon his bag (which he had not done till the dispute with my uncle Toby about midwifery put him in mind of it)--the very same thought occurred.--'Tis God's mercy, quoth he, (to himself) that Mrs. Shandy has had so bad a time of it,--else she might have been brought to bed seven times told, before one half of these knots could have got untied.--But here, you must distinguish--the thought floated only in Dr. Slop's mind, without sail or ballast to it, as a simple proposition; millions of which, as your worship knows, are every day swiming quietly in the middle of the thin juice of a man's understanding, without being carried backwards or forwards, till some little gusts of passion or interest drive them to one side.
(III.ix, pp. 27-8)"
19958,"",Reading,"",2013-01-22 04:20:46 UTC,,5070,"",Chapter XXV,2013-01-22 04:20:46 UTC,"""Their grief, however, like their joy, was transient; every thing floated in their mind unconnected with the past or future, so that one desire easily gave way to another, as a second stone cast into the water effaces and confounds the circles of the first.""","The princess, in the mean time, insinuated herself into many families; for there are few doors, through which liberality, joined with good humour, cannot find its way. The daughters of many houses were airy and chearful, but Nekayah had been too long accustomed to the conversation of Imlac and her brother to be much pleased with childish levity and prattle which had no meaning. She found their thoughts narrow, their wishes low, and their merriment often artificial. Their pleasures, poor as they were, could not be preserved pure, but were embittered by petty competitions and worthless emulation. They were always jealous of the beauty of each other; of a quality to which solicitude can add nothing, and from which detraction can take nothing away. Many were in love with triflers like themselves, and many fancied that they were in love when in truth they were only idle. Their affection was seldom fixed on sense or virtue, and therefore seldom ended but in vexation. Their grief, however, like their joy, was transient; every thing floated in their mind unconnected with the past or future, so that one desire easily gave way to another, as a second stone cast into the water effaces and confounds the circles of the first."
21009,"",C-H Lion,"",2013-06-19 02:50:22 UTC,,7476,"","",2013-06-19 02:50:22 UTC,"""Oh the Oceans of Delight that now flow'd within me!""","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)"
23068,"",Reading,"",2013-10-26 19:47:46 UTC,,5301,"","",2013-10-26 19:47:46 UTC,"""Dear sensibility! source inexhausted of all that's precious in our joys, or costly in our sorrows! thou chainest thy martyr down upon his bed of straw--and 'tis thou who lifts him up to Heaven--eternal fountain of our feelings!--'tis here I trace thee--and this is thy divinity which stirs within me--not that, in some sad and sickening moments, 'my soul shrinks back upon herself, and startles at destruction'--mere pomp of words!--but that I feel some generous joys and generous cares beyond myself--All comes from thee, great, great Sensorium of the world! which vibrates, if a hair of our heads but falls upon the ground, in the remotest desert of thy creation.""","--Dear sensibility! source inexhausted of all that's precious in our joys, or costly in our sorrows! thou chainest thy martyr down upon his bed of straw--and 'tis thou who lifts him up to Heaven--eternal fountain of our feelings!--'tis here I trace thee--and this is thy divinity which stirs within me--not that, in some sad and sickening moments, ""my soul shrinks back upon herself, and startles at destruction""--mere pomp of words!--but that I feel some generous joys and generous cares beyond myself--All comes from thee, great, great Sensorium of the world! which vibrates, if a hair of our heads but falls upon the ground, in the remotest desert of thy creation.--Touch'd with thee, Eugenius draws my curtain when I languish--hears my tale of symptoms, and blames the weather for the disorder of his nerves. Thou giv'st a portion of it sometimes to the roughest peasant who traverses the bleakest mountains--he finds the lacerated lamb of another's flock-- This moment I behold him leaning with his head against his crook, with piteous inclination looking down upon it--Oh! had I come one moment sooner!--it bleeds to death--his gentle heart bleeds with it--
(II, pp. 182-3)"