3 Matching Annotations
  1. Feb 2016
    1. "Sweet is the lore which Nature brings; Our meddling intellect Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things:— We murder to dissect."

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    2. I am this corpse. I fear they think me dead, yet I haunt these words.

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    3. I haunt these words.  I hear their steps. They pause... But I remain static.

      Nothing is more painful to the human mind, than, after the feelings have been worked up by a quick succession of events, the dead calmness of inaction and certainty which follows, and deprives the soul both of hope and fear.

      Chapter 9