Books and Ideas (24)

I read for ideas. Here are some of the ideas I have found in books.

Tales and Sketches. Parts One, Two, Three and Four. Nathaniel Hawthorne. (Continued)

“Chippings with a Chisel.” “He seemed, unless my fancy misled me, to view mankind in no other relation than as people in want of tomb stones. His sole task, the duty for which Providence had sent the old man into the world, as it were, with a chisel in his hand, was to label the dead bodies, lest their names should be forgotten at the resurrection.”

“Legends of the Province House I: Howe’s Masquerade.” “The empire of Britain, in this ancient province, is at its last gasp tonight. Almost while I speak, it is a dead corpse and, methinks, the shadows of the old governors are fit mourners at its funeral!”

“Legends of the Province House II: Edward Randolph’s Portrait.” “He recognized me with evident pleasure; for my rare properties as a patient listener invariably make me a favorite with elderly gentlemen and ladies of narrative propensities.”

“Legends of the Province House IV: Lady Eleanore’s Mantle.” “Lady Eleanore was remarkable for a harsh, unyielding pride, a haughty consciousness of her hereditary and personal advantages. The pestilence compelled rich and poor to feel themselves brethren.”

“The Sister Years.” “But I, cried the fresh-hearted New Year, I shall try to leave men wiser than I find them.”

“The Lily’s Quest.” “The dismal shape of the old lunatic still glided behind them; and for every spot that looked lovely in their eyes, he had some legend of human wrong or suffering, so miserably sad, that his auditors could never afterwards connect the idea of joy with the place where it happened.”

“A Virtuoso’s Collection.” “My destiny is linked with the realities of earth; you are welcome to your visions and shadows of a future state; but give me what I can see, and touch, and understand, and I ask no more.”

“The Old Apple Dealer.” “I look at him in the very moment of intensest bustle, on the arrival of the cars’ [i.e., train] the shriek of the engine, as it rushes into the carhouse, is the utterance of the steam-fiend; travelers swarm forth full of the momentum which they have caught from their mode of conveyance; seems as if the whole world were set in rapid motion; in the midst of this terrible activity, here sits the old man, so subdued, so hopeless, so without a stake in life, the forlorn old creature, one chill and somber day, after another, gathering scanty coppers for his cakes, apples and candy.”

“The Antique Ring.” “Clara Pemberton, examining an antique ring, which her betrothed lover had just presented to her, needs only one thing to make it perfect; it needs nothing but a story; you must kindle your imagination and make a legend for it.”

“The Hall of Fantasy.” “What would you do if tomorrow were the last day of the world?”

“The New Adam and Eve.” “The new Adam and Eve, having no reminiscences, are content to live and be happy in the present.”

“The Birth Mark.” “No, dearest Georgiana, you came so nearly perfect from the hand of nature, that this slightest possible defect [the birthmark on her cheek]—which we hesitate to term a defect or a beauty—shocks me, as being the visible mark of earthly imperfection.” “As the last crimson tint of the birthmark—that sole token of human imperfection—faded from her cheek, the parting breath of the now perfect woman passed into the atmosphere.”