There's certainly too much beer represented in the House — I admit that. But, after all, trade is the great moving-spring of national prosperity — and it would hardly be fair to refuse seats to the very men who help to keep the country going.
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Thelma
Marie Corelli 1 May 1855 – 21 April 1924) was a British novelist. She enjoyed a period of great literary success from the publication of her first novel in 1886 until World War I. Corelli's novels sold more copies than the combined sales of popular contem
Characters
She is innocent too — like a baby — and she worships her husband. That is an error! To worship a man is a great mistake — she will find it so. Men are not to be too much loved — no, no!
For if a woman have an innocent, unsuspecting soul as delicate as the curled cup of a Nile lily, the more easily will it droop and wither in the heated grasp of a careless, cruel hand.
Modern society contains within itself the seed of its own destruction . . . For God's justice is a circle that slowly surrounds an evil and as slowly closes on it with crushing and resistless force — and feverish, fretting humanity, however nobly inspired, can do nothing either to hasten or retard t…
I wish to God I could keep you all to myself without anybody's interference!
The thing's perfectly fashionable, and there isn't a woman in society who wouldn't be perfectly charmed with it. But your ideas are better than Rosine's and all society's put together. Obey your own womanly instinct, Thelma!
As days passed, the more close and perfect grew the sympathies of husband and wife, they were like two notes of a perfect chord, sounding together in sweetest harmony.
Days of high ecstacy and painfully passionate joy! — when 'love, love!' palpitated in the air, and struggled for utterance in the jubilant throats of birds, and whispered wild suggestions in the rustling of the leaves!
Love, with her, had not yet proved an illusion — a bright toy to be snatched hastily and played with for a brief while, and then thrown aside as broken and worthless. It seemed to her a most marvellous and splendid gift of God, increasing each day in worth and beauty — widening upon her soul and daz…
And I shall grow young again in the storm and drift of the foam and the dark wild waves! Yes — a wandering life suits me — and I am not sorry to have a taste of it once more. There's nothing like it — nothing like a broad ocean and sweeping wind!
All of us have to get out of life somehow one day — that's certain — but few of us have the chance of making such a triumphant exit.
Life is infinitely perplexing to many of us.
Gone — with all his wild poet fancies and wandering dreams — gone, with his unspoken love and unguessed sorrows — gone where dark things shall be made light.
And after all, it does not matter what one wears.
Yes, you must all die; but death does not hurt; no! Life hurts, but not death! See! As I pluck you, you all grow wings and fly away — away to other meadows and bloom again.
God alone knew the broken ideas, the dim fancies, the half-born desires, that glimmered like pale ghosts in the desert of his brain, God alone, in the great Hereafter, could solve the problem of his sorrows and throw light on his soul's darkness.
''Child, he said tremulously, ' in the new joys that await thee, never forget how thy father loves thee!'
All my thoughts have gone to drown themselves one by one in the cold sea! My heart was buried yesterday, and I saw it sealed down into its coffin. There is something of me left — something that dances before me like a flame — but it will not rest, it does not obey me. I call it, but it will not come…
Love, and love only, supported, controlled, and grandly completed the universe! He accepted this answer to all perplexities — his heart expanded with a sense of large content — his soul was satisfied.
Lorimer entered the saloon. He glanced from Errington to Thelma, and from Thelma back again to Errington — and smiled. So have certain brave soldiers been known to smile in face of a death-shot.