work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
5732,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2004-08-11 00:00:00 UTC," ""Doubtless"" said he: ""O it delights me much
""To find such sense in woman, she can see
""The fatal tendency of tales like these.
""'Tis thus the arch deceiver, busy still
""To ruin man, besets the female heart,
""Insinuates evil counsel, and inflames
""The hungry passions, that like arid flax
""Catch at a spark, and mount into a blaze.
""The passions heated, reason strives in vain;
""Her empire's lost, and the distracted soul
""Becomes the sport of devils, wholly bent
""To turn and wind it in a world of sin.""
",2012-04-03,15275,"","""'Tis thus the arch deceiver, busy still / To ruin man, besets the female heart, / Insinuates evil counsel, and inflames / The hungry passions, that like arid flax / Catch at a spark, and mount into a blaze.""","",2012-04-03 20:53:21 UTC,""
5746,"",Reading,2003-07-28 00:00:00 UTC,"C------e, whom providence hath placed
In the rich realms of polished taste,
Where judgment penetrates to find
The treasures of the unwrought mind,
Where conversation's ardent spirit
Refines from dross the ore of merit,
Where emulation aids the flame
And stamps the sterling bust of fame:
Can you, accustomed to behold
The purest intellectual gold,
Where genius sheds its living rays,
Bright as the sunny diamonds blaze,
Like idle virtuouso deign
To pick up pebbles from the plain?
Pleased if the worthless flints pretend
Fantastic characters to blend;
These in your cabinet insert,
And real excellence desert?
(ll. 1-18, p. 382 in Lonsdale; cf. p. 115-6 in 1791 ed.)",,15305,"•The poet asks Mrs C----e to suppose her a pebble.
•Rich verses. I've included four times: Treasure, Dross and Ore, Sterling, Stamp — now 5 times","""In the rich realms of polished taste, / Where judgment penetrates to find / The treasures of the unwrought mind, / Where conversation's ardent spirit / Refines from dross the ore of merit, / Where emulation aids the flame / And stamps the sterling bust of fame.""",Impressions and Metal,2014-02-22 04:59:37 UTC,""
6858,"",Browsing in Google Books,2011-05-20 15:37:11 UTC,"By Locke, true WIT is best defin'd,
Her pleasant pictures lure the mind;
Associations sudden rise,
And seize the fancy by surprise;
The effect is strong,--because it's odd,
Like fire electric from a clod;
Or when fix'd air puts out a light,
Tho' vital makes it blaze more bright.
Thus novelty a zest supplies,
And WIT still pleads by surprise;
The brilliant thought that charm'd to day,
By repetition fades away;
A maid thus shines the joy of life;-—
But what a different thing's a wife?
Wit suits not the heroic line,
Her similes are not divine;
The ludicrous they blithly season,
And make us laugh in spite of reason:-—
Discordant tho' the ideas be,
In Fancy's logic they agree;
As in the Ark by special grace,
Mice liv'd with Cats, yet throve apace.
(pp. 29-30)",,18452,INTEREST: USE IN ENTRY,"""The effect [of wit on the mind] is strong,--because it's odd, / Like fire electric from a clod; / Or when fix'd air puts out a light, / Tho' vital makes it blaze more bright.""",Optics,2012-01-08 15:28:40 UTC,""
7391,"",Reading at the Folger,2013-05-16 22:25:18 UTC,"""[...] Elf, we'll promote the cause of human weal,
To yon dissecting sage these truths reveal.
Show him what use the Renal Capsule serves,
The liquid Fire that floats along the nerves;
Give him the office of the Spleen to find,
And let him fee the Nidus of the mind.
-- I'll set my Sylph a task, come hither sprite,
Go seek from whence the Sun derives his light;
Then o'er one grain of sand perpetual sit,
Nor move till it is infinitely split.""
Thus raves the Genius, while they seek her lock,
Her incoherent flights the fairies mock [...]
(p. 112)",,20201,"","""Elf, we'll promote the cause of human weal, / To yon dissecting sage these truths reveal. / Show him what use the Renal Capsule serves, / The liquid Fire that floats along the nerves; / Give him the office of the Spleen to find, / And let him see the Nidus of the mind.""","",2013-05-16 22:25:18 UTC,Part IV
5841,"",Reading,2014-03-06 03:10:35 UTC,"The fierce and terrible passions, too, which so often agitated the inhabitants of this edifice, seemed now hushed in sleep;--those mysterious workings, that rouse the elements of man's nature into tempest--were calm. Emily's heart was not so; but her sufferings, though deep, partook of the gentle character of her mind. Hers was a silent anguish, weeping, yet enduring; not the wild energy of passion, inflaming imagination, bearing down the barriers of reason and living in a world of its own.
(II, p. 310 in Penguin)",,23509,"","""Hers was a silent anguish, weeping, yet enduring; not the wild energy of passion, inflaming imagination, bearing down the barriers of reason and living in a world of its own.""","",2014-03-06 03:10:35 UTC,""
5767,"",Reading,2014-06-22 17:15:42 UTC,"I shall, therefore, consider only such studies as we are at liberty to pursue or to neglect; and of these I know not how you will make a better choice, than by studying the civil law, as your father advises, and the ancient languages, as you had determined for yourself; at least resolve, while you remain in any settled residence, to spend a certain number of hours every day amongst your books. The dissipation of thought, of which you complain, is nothing more than the vacillation of a mind suspended between different motives, and changing its direction as any motive gains or loses strength. If you can but kindle in your mind any strong desire, if you can but keep predominant any wish for some particular excellence or attainment, the gusts of imagination will break away, without any effect upon your conduct, and commonly without any traces left upon the memory.
(I, pp. 258-9)",,24116,"","""If you can but kindle in your mind any strong desire, if you can but keep predominant any wish for some particular excellence or attainment, the gusts of imagination will break away, without any effect upon your conduct, and commonly without any traces left upon the memory.""","",2014-06-22 17:15:42 UTC,"Letter from Samuel Johnson to James Boswell (London 8, December 1763)"