English 45c

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The exchange was merry, till one girl, a tall newcomer, refused my card, -refused it peremptorily, with a glance. Then it dawned upon me with a certain suddenness that I was different from the others; or like, mayhap, in heart and life and longing, but s: The Souls of Black Folk, DuBois
He would not Africanize America, for America has too much to teach the owrld and Africa. He would not bleach his Negro soul in a flood of white Americanism, for he knows that Negro blood has a message for the world. He simply wishes to make it possible f: The Souls of Black Folk, DuBois
After the Egyptian and Indian, the greek and roman, the Teuton and Mogolian, the Negro is a sort of seventh son, born with a veil, and gifted with second-sight in this American world, - a world which yields him no true self-consciousness, but only lets h: The Souls of Black Folk, DuBois
Away back in the days of bondage they thought to see in one divine event the end of all doubt and disappointment; few men ever worshipped Freedom with half such unquestioning faith as did the American Negro for two centuries. To him, so far as he thought: The Souls of Black Folk, DuBois
It was the ideal of "book-learning:; the curiosity, born of compulsory ignorance, to know and test the power of the cabalistic letters of the white man, the loning to know. Here at last seemed to have been discovered the moutain path to Canaan; long: The Souls of Black Folk, DuBois
In those sombre forests of his striving his own soul rose before him, and he saw himself, -darkly as though a veil; and yet he saw himself some faint revelation of his power, of his mission. he began to have him a dim feeling that, to attain his place in: The Souls of Black Folk, DuBois
There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying: 'Stetson!- 'You who were with me in the ships at Mylae! 'That corpse you planted last year in your garden, 'Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year? 'Or has the sudden frost dis: The Wasteland, Elliot
The Chair she sat in, like a burnished throne, Glowed on the marble, where the glass Held up by Standards wrought with fruited vines From which a golden Cupidon peeped out (Another hid his eyes behind his wing) Doubled the flame: The wasteland, elliot
My nerves are bad to-night. yes, bad. Stay with me. Speak to me. why do you never speak. spea. 'What are you thinking of? what thinking? what? I never know what you are thinking. think.': The wasteland, Elliot
Hurry up please its time if you don't like it you can get on with it, I said. others can pick and choose if you can't but if albert makes off, it won't be for lack of telling. you ought to be ashamed, i said, i look so antique. (: The wasteland, elliot
The apparition of these faces in the crowd; Petals on a we, black bought.: In a station of the metro, Ezra Pound
For the seven lakes, and by no man these verses: Rain; empty river; a voyage, Fire from frozen cloud, heavy rain in the twilight Under the cabin roof was one lantern. The reeds are heavy; bent; and the bamboos speak as if weeping: Cantos XLIX, Ezra Pound
No one is going to be content with a transliteration of Chinese names. When not making a desperate effort at mnemonics or differentiating in vain hope of distinguishing one race from antoher, I mainly use the french form. Our european knowledge of china: Cantos, Ezra Pound
Now the grass, tomorrow The stiff curl of wildcarrot leaf one by one objects are defined- it quickens: clarity, outline of leaf: Spring and All, williams
Patches of standing water the scattering of tall trees All along the road the reddish purplish, forked, upstanding, twiggy stuff of bushes and small trees with dead, brown leaves under them leafless vines-: Spring and all, williams
or the ribbed north end of Jersey with its isolate lakes and valleys, its deaf-mutes, theives old names and promiscuity between: To Elsie, Williams
Sent out at fifteen to work in some hard-pressed house in the suburbs- some doctor's family, some -- voluptuous water expressing with broken: To Elsie, Williams
as if the earth under our feet were an excrement of some sky and we degraded prisoners destined to hunger until we eat filth while the imagination strains after deer going by fields of goldenrod in: To Elsie, Williams
Glazed with rain water beside the white chikens: The red Wheelbarrow, Williams
It was black, black took Black ink best wheel bale brown. Excellent not a hull house, not a pea soup, no bill no care, no precise no past pearl pearl goat.: Tender Buttons, Stein
A Mounted Umbrella What was the use of not leaving it there where it would hang what was the use if there was no chance of ever seeing it come there and show that it was handsome and right in the way it showed it. The lesson is to learn that i: Tender Buttons, Stein
Book was there, it was there. Book was there. Stop it, stop it, it was a cleaner, a wet cleaner and it was not where it was wet, it was not high, it was directly placed back, not back again, back it was returned, it was needless, it put a bank, a bank wh: Tender Buttons, Stein
The change in that is that red weakens an hour. The change has come. There is no search.: Tender Buttons, Stein
The facts those men were so eager to know had been visible, tangible, open to the senses, occupying their place in space and time, requiring for their existence a fourteen-hundred-ton steamer and twenty seven minutes by the watch; they made a whole that: Lord Jim, Conrad
There was, as I walked along, the clear sunshine, a brilliance too passionate to be consoling, the streets full of jumbled bits of colour like a damaged kaleidoscope: yellow, green, blue, dazzling white, the brown nudity of an undraped shoulder, a bulloc: Lord Jim, Conrad
The Court-room was sombre, seemed more vast. High up in the dim space the punkahs were swaying short to and fro, to and fro. Here and there a draped figure, dwarfed by the bare walls, remained without stirring amongst the rows of empty benches, as if abs: Lord Jim, Conrad
All around everything was still as far as the ear could reach. The mist of his feelings shifted between us, as if disturbed by his struggles, and in the rifts of the immaterial veil he would appear to my staring eyes distinct of form and pregnant with va: Lord Jim, Conrad
A feeble burst of many voices mingled with the tinkle of silver and glass floated up from the dining-room below; though the open door the outer edge of the light from my candle fell on his back faintly; beyond all was black; he stood on the brink of a va: Lord Jim, Conrad
The Other three chaps that had landed with him made a little group waiting at some distance. there was a sallow-faced, mean little chap with his arm in a sling, and a long individual in a blue flannel coat, as dry as a chip and no stouter than a broomsti: Lord Jim, Conrad
But he kept his distance - he kept his distance. He wanted me to know he had kept his distance; that there was nothing in comon between him and these men- who had the hammer. Nothing wahtever. It is more than probable he thought himself cut off from them: Lord Jim, Conrad
The privileged man opened the packet, looked in, then, laying it down, went to the window. His rooms were in the highest flat of a lofty building, and his glace would ravel afar beyond the clear panes of glass, as though he were looking out of the lanter: Lord Jim, Conrad
I don't know so much about nonsense, but there was nothing light-hearted in their romance: they came together under the shadow of a life's disaster, like knight and maiden meeting to exchange vows amongst haunted ruins.: Lord Jim, Conrad
FOr having lived in Westminster-how many years now? over twnty,-one feels even in the midst of the traffic, or waking at night, -- was positive, a particular hush, or solemnity; an indescribable pause; a suspense (but that might be her heart, affected, t: Mrs. Dalloway, Woolf
She clung to his arm. They had been deserted. But what more did she want?: Mrs. Dalloway, Woolf (the out of body narrative is weird)
Her voice would not cease, it would just vanish. there would be the dim coffin-smelling glooom sweet and oversweet with the twice-bloomed wistaria against the outer wall by the savage quiet september sun impacted distilled and hyperdistilled, into which: Absolom Absolom, Faulkner
Because you are going away to attend the college at Harvard they tell me," she said. "so I don't imagine you will ever come back here and settle down as a country lawyer in a little town like Jerfferson since Northern people have already seen t: Absolom Absolom, Faulkner
It's because she wants it told he thought so that people whom she will never see and whose names she will never hear and who have never heard her name nor seen her face will read it and know at last why God let us lose the War: that only through the bloo: Aboslom Absolom, Faulkner
HIs childhood was full of them; his very body was an empty hall echoing with sonorous defeated names; he was not a being, an entity, he was a commonwealth. He was a barracks filled with stubbor backlooking ghosts still recovering, even forty-three years: Absolom Absolom, Faulkner
"Yes. They lead beautiful lives-women. Lives not only divorced from, but irrevocably excommunicated form, all reality. That's why although their deaths, the instant of dissolution, are of no importence to them since htey have a courage and fortittud: Absolom Absolom, Faulkner
We hardly ever saw him. He would be gone from dan until dark, he and Jones and another man or two that he had got from somewhere and paid with something, perhaps the same coin in which he had paid that froeign architect-cajolery, promise, threat, and at: Absolom Absolom, Faulkner
"I don't hate it," --, quickly, at once, immediately; "I don't hate it," he said. I don't hate it he thought, panting in the cold air, the iron New England dark: I don't. I don't! I don't hate it! I don't hate it!: Abolom Absolom, Faulkner
I, self-mesmered fool who still believed that what must be would be, could not but be, else I must deny sanity as well as breath, running, hurling myself into that inscrutable coffee-colored face, that cold implaceable mindless (no, not mindless: anythin: Abosolom Absolom, Faulkner (Chiasmus)
On Isabella when I was a child it was a disgrace to be poor. It is, alas, no longer so. And it astonished me when I first came to England to find that it wasn't so here either. I arrived at a time of reform. politicians proclaimed the meanness of their b: Mimic Men, Naipaul
For Cecil childhood was the great time; he would never cease to regret its passing away. it was different with me. I could scarcely wait for my childhood to be over and done with. i have no especial hardship or deprivation to record. But childhood was fo: Mimic Men, Naipaul (shame is the product of post-colonialism)
It was then that I saw that what I had thought of as my betrayal was no longer a betrayal. School had ceased to be a private hemisphere. The outside world, which we had denied for so long, had begun to invade it; and after Browne's widely reported gestur: Miminc Men, Naipaul (teacher constantly reminds them of who they are; ridicule)
It was a double dream, thbe dream within the dream, when the dreamer, fearful for the reality of his joy, questions himself whether he is dreaming and decides he is not. i had dreamt that i was a baby again and at my mother's breast. What joy! The breast: Mimic Men, Naipual
It is difficult to be a lord! I sought accommodation where I ought to have imposed authority. And there was Sandra with her gift of the phrase, her North London tongue, battling where she should have succoured and consoled. I encouraged her, I am afraid,: Mimic Men, Naipual
My own name was Ranjit; and my birth certificate said I was Ranjit Kripalsingh. That gave me two names. But Deschampsneufs had five apart from his last name, all french, all short, all oridinary, but this conglomeration of the ordinary wonderfully sugges: Mimic Men, Naipaul
What did we talk about? we were, of course, of the left. We were socialist. We stood for the dignity of the working man. We stood for the dignity of distress. We stood for the dignity of our island, the dignity of our indignity. Borrowed phrases! LEft-wi: Mimic Men, Naipaul
So i went on, naming, naming; and, later, I required everything - every government building, every road, every agricultural schen.e - to be labelled. It suggested drama, activity. It reinforced reality. It reinforced that sense of ownership which overcam: Mimic Men, Naipaul
SO the roman house died a second time.: Mimic Men, Naipaul (history is repeat)
There, in Liege in a traffic jam, on the snow slopes of the Laurentians, was the true, pure wolrd. We, here on our island, handling books printed in this world, and using its goods, had been abandoned and forgotten. We pretended to be real, to be learnin: Mimic Men, Naipaul
unease later defining itself - were cartoon characters, exaggerating their roles: Mimic Men, Naipaul
Eden was something of a buffoon. He was the blackest boy in the school and for some time was known as Spite because some boys said he was black for spite. His reputation as a buffoon and his special relationship with Deschamsneufs had been established ea: Mimic Men, Naipaul (master-slave)
Because there was no way in hell a black face could appear in a newspaper if the story was about something anybody wanted to hear. A whip of fear broke through the heart chambers as soon as you saw a Negro's face in a paper, since the face was not there: Beloved, Morrison (newsprint)
--Could recognize only seventy-five printed words(half of which appeard in the newspaper clipping), but she knew that the words she did not understand hadn't any more power than she had to explain. It was the smile and the upfront love that made her try.: Beloved, MOrrison (skepticism for newsprint)
Had she waited just a little she would have seen the end of the War, its short, flashy results.: Beloved, Morrison (encyc. ref. war)
The War had been over four or five years then, but nobody white or black seemed to know it.: Beloved, Morrison (ref. to war)
Twenty eight days. Days of healing, ease and real-talk. Days of company: knowing the names of forty, fifty other Negroes, their veiws, habits; where they had been and what done; of feeling their fun and sorrow along with her own, which made it better.: Beloved, Morrison (28 days of freedom, womanly cycle)
Oh, yes. Oh, yes, yes, yes. Someday you be walking down the road and you hear something or see something going on. So clear. and you think it's you thinking it up. A thought picture. But no. It's when yuou bump into a remeory that belongs to somebody els: Beloved, MOrrison (past is kept alive like a ghost. It lives outside her head)
because the last color she remembered was the pink chips in the headstone of her baby girl. After that she becamse as color conscious as a hen.: Beloved, Morrison (shows rememory isn't memory, she has a bad memory).
When they caught up with each other, all thirty, and arrived at 124, the first thing they saw was not -- sitting on the steps, but themselves. Younger, stronger, even as little girls lying in the grass asleep. Catfish was popping grease in the pan and th: Beloved, Morrison (nostalgia for youth. excercise baby sugg's ghost).
I am -- and she is mine. I see her take flowers away from leaves she puts them in a round basket the leaves are not for her she fills the basket she opens the grass i would help her but the clouds are in the way how can i say things that are pictures i a: Beloved, Morrison (trauma is a space of timelessness)
All of it is now it is always now there will never be a time when I am not crouching and watching others who are crouching too i am always crouching the man on my face is dead his face is not mine his mouth smells sweet but his eyes are locked: Beloved Morrison (crouching cargo hold?)

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