work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
5925,"",Reading,2003-07-16 00:00:00 UTC,"Perhaps I ought to have allowed these insinuations to breed suspicion in my mind: but conscious as I was of the benefits which I received from this man; prone, from my inexperience, to rely upon professions and confide in appearances; and unaware that I could be placed in any condition, in which mere silence respecting myself could be injurious or criminal, I made no scruple to promise compliance with his wishes.
(Part I, chapter 7, p. 285)",,15716,"","Insinuations ""breed suspicion"" in the mind","",2009-09-14 19:44:27 UTC,""
5925,"",Reading,2003-07-18 00:00:00 UTC,"For a while the wondrousness of this tale kept me from contemplating the consequences that awaited us. My unfledged fancy had not hitherto soared to this pitch. All was astounding by its novelty, or terrific by its horror. The very scene of these offences partook, to my rustic apprehension, of fairy splendour, and magical abruptness. My understanding was bemazed, and my senses were taught to distrust their own testimony.
(Part I, chapter 12, p. 326)",2007-06-26,15729,•I've included the bemazed understanding in the next record.,"""My unfledged fancy had not hitherto soared to this pitch.""","",2009-09-14 19:44:29 UTC,Mervyn's reaction to Welbeck's narrative
5932,"",Searching in HDIS (Drama),2005-06-13 00:00:00 UTC,"BLUM.
I was wrong then. The heart of a physician should be in full steel and armour, like the body of a tortoise.",,15790,"•I've included thrice: Steel, Armor, and Tortoise.","""The heart of a physician should be in full steel and armour, like the body of a tortoise""",Metal,2009-09-14 19:44:40 UTC,"Act I, scene x"
6044,Soliloquy,HDIS: searching internal councils,2004-03-30 00:00:00 UTC,"So they, impatient for the Cambrian war,
Foam mad'ning: while for Adelfrid they shout,
Till with percussion of the beaten air
The palace trembles. Red'wald hears astound:
Nor ill divining the insidious cause,
Ponders with painful doubt; and with his breast
Holds fearful council. So a swarm of wasps,
By hunger urg'd, around the industrious hive
Throng martial, and, with brandish'd sting prepar'd,
Breathe thro' their tiny horns the threatening blast
Impetuous; while within the regal bee
Fears for the foodful store, and, ere she calls
Forth from their waxen cells and frugal toils
The warlike train, debates, with quick consult,
How wiseliest to repel impending woe.",,16029,REVISIT,"Holding council in the breast is like the ""regal bee"" consulting before calling forth the ""warlike train"" ""from their waxen cells""","",2009-09-14 19:45:28 UTC,End of Second Book
7234,"","Searching ""soul"" and ""birds"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2012-04-27 18:56:07 UTC,"Or turn thee to that house, with studded doors,
And iron-visor'd windows;--even there
The Sabbath sheds a beam of bliss, tho' faint;
The debtor's friends (for still he has some friends)
Have time to visit him; the blossoming pea,
That climbs the rust-worn bars, seems fresher tinged;
And on the little turf, this day renewed,
The lark, his prison mate, quivers the wing
With more than wonted joy. See, through the bars,
That pallid face retreating from the view,
That glittering eye following, with hopeless look,
The friends of former years, now passing by
In peaceful fellowship to worship God:
With them, in days of youthful years, he roamed
O'er hill and dale, o'er broomy knowe; and wist
As little as the blythest of the band
Of this his lot; condemned, condemned unheard,
The party for his judge:--among the throng,
The Pharisaical hard-hearted man
He sees pass on, to join the heaven-taught prayer,
Forgive our debts, as we forgive our debtors:
From unforgiving lips most impious prayer!
O happier far the victim, than the hand
That deals the legal stab! The injured man
Enjoys internal, settled calm; to him
The Sabbath bell sounds peace; he loves to meet
His fellow-sufferers, to pray and praise:
And many a prayer, as pure as e'er was breathed
In holy fanes, is sighed in prison halls.
Ah me! that clank of chains, as kneel and rise
The death-doomed row. But see, a smile illumes
The face of some; perhaps they're guiltless: Oh!
And must high-minded honesty endure
The ignominy of a felon's fate!
No, 'tis not ignominious to be wronged;
No;--conscious exultation swells their hearts,
To think the day draws nigh, when in the view
Of angels, and of just men perfect made,
The mark which rashness branded on their names
Shall be effaced;--when, wafted on life's storm,
Their souls shall reach the Sabbath of the skies;--
As birds, from bleak Norwegia's wintry coast
Blown out to sea, strive to regain the shore,
But, vainly striving; yield them to the blast,--
Swept o'er the deep to Albion's genial isle,
Amazed they light amid the bloomy sprays
Of some green vale, there to enjoy new loves,
And join in harmony unheard before.",,19729,Note: In 1806 Graham published Birds of Scotland ... The simile here is rather ornithological. USE IN ENTRY?,"""Their souls shall reach the Sabbath of the skies;-- / As birds, from bleak Norwegia's wintry coast / Blown out to sea, strive to regain the shore, / But, vainly striving; yield them to the blast,-- / Swept o'er the deep to Albion's genial isle, / Amazed they light amid the bloomy sprays / Of some green vale, there to enjoy new loves, / And join in harmony unheard before.""",Animals,2012-04-27 18:56:47 UTC,""
7290,"","Searching ""heart"" and ""dog"" in HDIS (Drama)",2012-07-03 19:15:54 UTC,"LORD AVON.
Horrible!--What! record a father's death without a tear?
TYKE.
Tear! Do you think a villain who has a father's death to answer for can cry?--No, no, I feel a pack of dogs worrying my heart, and my eyes on fire--but I can't cry.--
[A vacant stare of horror.]
LORD AVON.
And is this desolation my work? Oh repent, repent!
(II.iii)",,19852,"","""No, no, I feel a pack of dogs worrying my heart, and my eyes on fire--but I can't cry.""",Beasts,2012-07-03 19:15:54 UTC,"Act II, Scene iii"
7391,"",Reading at the Folger,2013-05-16 22:12:53 UTC,"Some turbulent Othello's vainly try
To curb the green-eyed monster Jealousy.
O never mount this wretched, restless beast,
""Not all the drowsy syrups of the east""
Can lull the argus of his fears, to rest:
--A never-ceasing vulture gnaws his breast.
(p. 41)",,20195,"","""A never-ceasing vulture gnaws his breast.""",Animals,2013-05-16 22:12:53 UTC,Part II
7391,"",Reading at the Folger,2013-05-16 22:17:12 UTC,"What adequate ideas can we form of magnanimity and virtue, if we remove the very tests that bring them into action. What! are we to live amenable to no restrictions; to give the rein to all our appetites? Are we to make no sacrifices? -- Let then the advocate of such a doctrine, from such designs, arrange himself a system of new policy.
(p. 69)",,20197,"","""What! are we to live amenable to no restrictions; to give the rein to all our appetites?""",Animals,2013-05-16 22:17:12 UTC,Part II
7391,"",Reading at the Folger,2013-05-16 22:29:50 UTC,"Thou Friendship art the most exalted guest,
The noblest inmate of the human breast!
Thou art a jewel so divinely fair!
Of such incalculable worth! so rare!
Nature hath none more excellent to boast,
Making a perfect friend, she did her most!
Here let us pause, 'twere tedious to describe,
Of Proteus whim, the Hobby Horsy tribe,
Through all the mazes of caprice to wind,
And hunt the gay Cameleon of the mind.
There is of Humorists an endless race,
And Mind appears as various as Face.
(pp. 143-4)",,20204,"","""Here let us pause, 'twere tedious to describe, / Of Proteus whim, the Hobby Horsy tribe, / Through all the mazes of caprice to wind, / And hunt the gay Cameleon of the mind.""",Animals,2013-05-16 22:29:50 UTC,Part V
7639,"",Reading at RPO,2013-08-20 16:40:47 UTC,"Hence, viper thoughts, that coil around my mind,
Reality's dark dream!
I turn from you, and listen to the wind,
Which long has raved unnoticed. What a scream
Of agony by torture lengthened out
That lute sent forth! Thou Wind, that rav'st without,
Bare crag, or mountain-tairn, or blasted tree,
Or pine-grove whither woodman never clomb,
Or lonely house, long held the witches' home,
Methinks were fitter instruments for thee,
Mad Lutanist! who in this month of showers,
Of dark-brown gardens, and of peeping flowers,
Mak'st Devils' yule, with worse than wintry song,
The blossoms, buds, and timorous leaves among.
Thou Actor, perfect in all tragic sounds!
Thou mighty Poet, e'en to frenzy bold!
What tell'st thou now about?
'Tis of the rushing of an host in rout,
With groans, of trampled men, with smarting wounds--
At once they groan with pain, and shudder with the cold!
But hush! there is a pause of deepest silence!
And all that noise, as of a rushing crowd,
With groans, and tremulous shudderings--all is over--
It tells another tale, with sounds less deep and loud!
A tale of less affright,
And tempered with delight,
As Otway's self had framed the tender lay,--
'Tis of a little child
Upon a lonesome wild,
Nor far from home, but she hath lost her way:
And now moans low in bitter grief and fear,
And now screams loud, and hopes to make her mother hear.
(ll. 94-125)",,22514,"","""Hence, viper thoughts, that coil around my mind, / Reality's dark dream! / I turn from you, and listen to the wind, / Which long has raved unnoticed.""","",2013-08-20 16:40:47 UTC,""