The Works of Laurence Sterne: With a Life of the Author, Band 2

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Seite 375 - I was answered, an* please your honour, that he had no servant with him; that he had come to the inn with hired horses, which, upon finding himself unable to proceed, (to join, I suppose, the regiment) he had dismissed the morning after he came. — If I get better, my dear...
Seite 306 - Shall we for ever make new books, as apothecaries make new mixtures, by pouring only out of one vessel into another? Are we for ever to be twisting, and untwisting the same rope? for ever in the same track — for ever at the same pace?
Seite 380 - The Accusing Spirit, which flew up to heaven's chancery with the oath, blushed as he gave it in, and the Recording Angel, as he wrote it down, dropped a tear upon the word, and blotted it out for ever.
Seite 378 - Tis finished already, said the corporal, — for I could stay no longer, — so wished his honour a good night; young Le Fever rose from off the bed, and saw me to the bottom of the stairs; and as we went down together, told me they had come from Ireland, and were on their route to join the regiment in Flanders. But alas! said the corporal, — the lieutenant's last day's march is over.
Seite 614 - The learned SMELFUNGUS travelled from Boulogne to Paris from Paris to Rome and so on but he set out with the spleen and jaundice, and every object he pass'd by was discoloured or distorted He wrote an account of them, but 'twas nothing but the account of his miserable feelings. I met Smelfungus in the grand portico of the pantheon he was just coming out of it 'Tis nothing but a huge cockpit...
Seite 378 - Billy, said he; the boy flew across the room to the bed-side, and falling ' down upon his knee, took the ring in his . hand, and kissed it too, then kissed his father, and sat down upon the bed and wept. I wish, said my uncle Toby, with a deep sigh, I wish, Trim, I was asleep.
Seite 318 - There is no terror, brother Toby, in its looks, but what it borrows from groans and convulsions — and the blowing of noses and the wiping away of tears with the bottoms of curtains, in a dying man's room.
Seite 322 - Jonathan (for that was the coachman's name), or Shrovetide, or any tide or time past, to this ? Are we not here now, continued the corporal (striking the end of his stick perpendicularly upon the floor, so as to give an idea of health and stability) — and are we not...
Seite 625 - When the mourner got thus far on his story, he stopped to pay nature her tribute and wept bitterly. He said, Heaven had accepted the conditions, and that he had set out from his cottage with this poor creature, who had been a patient partner of his journey that it had eat the same bread with him all the way, and was unto him as a friend.
Seite 375 - It was not till my uncle Toby had knocked the ashes out of his third pipe, that corporal Trim returned from the inn, and gave him the following account : I despaired at first...

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