N. Hawthorne, sa vie et son oeuvreHachette, 1905 - 510 pages |
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Common terms and phrases
âme américains assez Blithedale Brook Farm charme Chillingworth chose Clifford cœur conscience Corey Coverdale crime cruelle devant Dimmesdale Donatello Emerson enfants esprit étrange eyes fatalité Faune femme Franklin Pierce good great hand Hawthorne heart Hepzibah Hester Holgrave Hollingsworth homme humaine idées instant jamais jeune John Hathorne jour know l'humanité laisser last Lettre Rouge LEWIS CASS life little Liverpool look lui-même made Maison des Sept make Margaret Fuller MARTHA Massachusetts ment Miles Coverdale ministre Miriam morale mort mystérieux Nathaniel Hawthorne Nature never Nouvelle Angleterre parfois passé passion pensée people peut-être Phoebé Pierce pourtant presque Priscilla profonde Puritains Pyncheon qu'un Quakers Redclyffe reste Roger Conant roman s'est Salem Scarlet Letter secret seemed semble sent Sept Pignons serait seul sincérité sorcier sorte souffrances Street sympathie things thorne thou thought time tion Transcendentalistes trouver Twice Told véritable Vieux Presbytère whole woman world years yeux Zénobie
Popular passages
Page 373 - No sound amid night's stillness, save that which seemed to be The dull and heavy beating of the pulses of the sea; All night I sat unsleeping, for I knew that on the morrow The ruler and the cruel priest would mock me in my sorrow, Dragged to their place of market, and bargained for and sold, Like a lamb before the shambles, like a heifer from the fold! Oh, the weakness of the flesh was there, — the shrinking and the shame; And the low voice of the Tempter like whispers to me came: "Why sit'st...
Page 58 - When a noble act is done — perchance in a scene of great natural beauty; when Leonidas and his three hundred martyrs consume one day in dying, and the sun and moon come each and look at them once in the steep defile of Thermopylae; when Arnold Winkelried...
Page 139 - Far more than this. It shall be yours to penetrate, in every bosom, the deep mystery of sin, the fountain of all wicked arts, and which inexhaustibly supplies more evil impulses than human power— than my power at its utmost— can make manifest in deeds. And now, my children, look upon each other.
Page 167 - We are not, Hester, the worst sinners in the world. There is one worse than even the polluted priest! That old man's revenge has been blacker than my sin. He has violated, in cold blood, the sanctity of a human heart. Thou and I, Hester, never did so!
Page 357 - Think Of our sad fate with gentleness, as now; And let mild, pitying thoughts lighten for thee Thy sorrow's load. Err not in harsh despair, But tears and patience. One thing more, my child : For thine own sake be constant to the love Thou bearest us; and to the faith that I, Though wrapt in a strange cloud of crime and shame, Lived ever holy and unstained.
Page 385 - He was one of the martyrs to that terrible delusion, which should teach us, among its other morals, that the influential classes, and those who take upon themselves to be leaders of the people, are fully liable to all the passionate error that has ever characterized the maddest mob.
Page 176 - Shall we not meet again?" whispered she, bending her face down close to his. "Shall we not spend our immortal life together? Surely, surely, we have ransomed one another with all this woe ! Thou lookest far into eternity, with those bright dying eyes! Then tell me what thou seest?
Page 59 - Build therefore your own world. As fast as you conform your life to the pure idea in your mind, that will unfold its great proportions. A correspondent revolution in things will attend the influx of the spirit.
Page 5 - It is now nearly two centuries and a quarter since the original Briton, the earliest emigrant of my name, made his appearance in the wild and forest-bordered settlement which has since become a city. And here his descendants have been born and died, and have mingled their earthly substance with the soil, until no small portion of it must necessarily be akin to the mortal frame wherewith for a little while I walk the streets.
Page 408 - The book, if you would see anything in it, requires to be read in the clear, brown, twilight atmosphere in which it was written ; if opened in the sunshine, it is apt to look exceedingly like a volume of blank pages.