To one who is accustomed to thinking a lot, every new thought that he hears or reads about immediately appears as a link in a chai...n.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
O thou day o' th' world, Chain mine armed neck, leap thou, attire and all,... Through proof of harness to my heart, and there Ride on the pants triumphing!LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
It was the feeling of a passenger on an ocean steamer whose mind will not give him rest until he has been in the engine-room and t...alked with the engineer. She wanted to see with her own eyes the action of primary forces; to touch with her own eyes the action of primary forces; to touch with her own hand the massive machinery of society; to measure with her own mind the capacity of the motive power. She was bent upon getting to the heart of the great American mystery of democracy and government.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
There is not any present moment that is unconnected with some future one. The life of every man is a continued chain of incidents,... each link of which hangs upon the former. The transition from cause to effect, from event to event, is often carried on by secret steps, which our foresight cannot divine, and our sagacity is unable to trace. Evil may at some future period bring forth good; and good may bring forth evil, both equally unexpected.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
The banners flashing through the trees Make their blood dance and chain their eyes;... That bugle-music on the breeze Arrests them with a charm'd surprise. Banner by turns and bugle woo: Ye shy recluses, follow too!LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
If there is a species which is more maltreated than children, then it must be their toys, which they handle in an incredibly off-h...and manner.... Toys are thus the end point in that long chain in which all the conditions of despotic high-handedness are in play which enchain beings one to another, from one species to another--cruel divinities to their sacrificial victims, from masters to slaves, from adults to children, and from children to their objects.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Tell me how many beads there are In a silver chain... Of evening rain, Unravelled from the tumbling main, And threading the eye of a yellow star:-- So many times do I love again.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
What the hammer?What the chain? In what furnace was thy brain?... What the anvil?What dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp?LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »