The works of Laurence Sterne, with a life of the author, written by himself

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Edinburgh, 1803

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Page 88 - I began to figure to myself the miseries of confinement. I was in a right frame for it, and so I gave full scope to my imagination. I was going to begin with the millions of my fellowcreatures born to no inheritance but slavery; but finding, however affecting the picture was, that I could not bring it near me, and that the multitude of sad groups in it did but distract me, I took a single captive, and having first shut him up in his dungeon, I then looked through the twilight of his grated door to...
Page 89 - He had one of these little sticks in his hand, and with a rusty nail he was etching another day of misery to add to the heap. As I darkened the little light he had, he lifted up a hopeless eye towards the door, then cast it down, shook his head, and went on with his work of affliction.
Page 136 - I felt such undescribable emotions within me, as I am sure could not be accounted for from any combinations of matter and motion.
Page 183 - We had got up by this time almost to the bank where Maria was sitting : she was in a thin white jacket, with her hair, all but two tresses, drawn up into a...
Page 31 - I pity the man who can travel from Dan. to Beersheba, and cry, 'Tis all barren and so it is; and so is all the world to him, who will not cultivate the fruits it offers.
Page 74 - The sun was set — they had done their work ; the nymphs had tied up their hair afresh — and the swains were preparing for a carousal My mule made a dead point 'Tis the fife and tabourin, said I I'm frighten'd to death, quoth he...
Page 137 - As she told me this, she took the handkerchief out of her pocket to let me see it : she had folded it up neatly in a couple of vine leaves, tied round with a tendril ; on opening it, I saw an S marked in one of the corners.
Page 46 - The mourner said, he did not want it it was not the value of the ass but the loss of him...
Page 86 - I looked up and down the passage, and seeing neither man, woman nor child, I went out without further attention. In my return back through the passage, I heard the same words repeated twice over; and looking up I saw it was a starling hung in a little cage; "I can't get out, I can't get out,
Page 75 - Tis the pipe and tambourine,' said I ; ' I never will argue a point with one of your family as long as I live.' So, leaping off his back, and kicking off one boot into this ditch and t'other into that, ' I'll take a dance,

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