The Works of Charles Dickens: David Cooperfield (1872)

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Harper & Brothers, 1872
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Стр. 98 - And who is this? Is this my old nurse?" said the child, regarding with a radiant smile a figure coming in. Yes, yes. No other stranger would have shed those tears at sight of him, and called him her dear boy, her pretty boy, her own poor blighted child. No other woman would have stooped down by his bed, and taken up his wasted hand, and put it to her lips and breast, as one who had some right to fondle it. No other woman would have so forgotten everybody there but him and Floy, and been so full of...
Стр. 99 - The old, old fashion ! The fashion that came in with our first garments, and will last unchanged until our race has run its course, and the wide firmament is rolled up like a scroll. The old, old fashion — Death ! Oh thank GOD, all who see it, for that older fashion yet, of Immortality ! And look upon us, angels of young children, with regards not quite estranged, when the swift river bears us to the ocean ! CHAPTER XVII.
Стр. 97 - Floy ?" he would sometimes ask her. " It is bearing me away, I think!" But Floy could always soothe and reassure him ; and it was his daily delight to make her lay her head down on his pillow, and take some rest. "You are always watching me, Floy. Let me watch you, now !" They would prop him up with cushions in a corner of his bed, and there he would recline the while she lay beside him ; bending forward oftentimes to kiss her, and whispering to those who were near that she was tired, and how she...
Стр. 96 - ... rising up into the morning sky, the town reviving, waking, starting into life once more, the river glistening as it rolled (but rolling fast as ever), and the country bright with dew. Familiar sounds and cries came by degrees into the street below; the servants in the house were roused and busy; faces looked in at the door, and voices asked his attendants softly how he was. Paul always answered for himself, 'I am better. I am a great deal better, thank you! Tell Papa so!
Стр. 120 - The very speed at which the train was whirled along, mocked the swift course of the young life that had been borne away so steadily and so inexorably to its fore-doomed end. The power that forced itself upon its iron way — its own — defiant of all paths and roads, piercing through the heart of every obstacle, and dragging living creatures of all classes, ages, and degrees behind it, was a type of the triumphant monster, Death.
Стр. 98 - Sister and brother wound their arms around each other, and the golden light came streaming in, and fell upon them, locked together. 'How fast the river runs, between its green banks and the rushes, Floy! But it's very near the sea. I hear the waves! They always said so!
Стр. 8 - The earth was made for Dombey and Son to trade in, and the sun and moon were made to give them light. Rivers and seas were formed to float their ships; rainbows gave them promise of fair weather; winds blew for or against their enterprises; stars and planets circled in their orbits, to preserve inviolate a system of which they were the centre.
Стр. 64 - Blimber's establishment was a great hothouse, in which there was a forcing apparatus incessantly at work.
Стр. 97 - And where is my old nurse ?" said Paul. " Is she dead too ? Floy, are we all dead, except you ? " There was a hurry in the room, for an instant — longer, perhaps ; but it seemed no more — then all was still again ; and Florence, with her face quite colorless, but smiling, held his head upon her arm.
Стр. 96 - When the sunbeams struck into his room through the rustling blinds, and quivered on the opposite wall like golden water, he knew that evening was coming on, and that the sky was red and beautiful.

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