Commonplace Book

'...In the oxygen of success even the dullest metals will scintillate...'

from The Romance of Zion Chapel by Richard le Gallienne (Chapter X)

Commonplace Book

'Holy to them grew the stillness: the ripple suffused in golden moonlight: the dark edges of the leaves against superlative brightness. Not a chirp was heard, nor anything save the cool and endless carol of the happy waters, whose voices are the spirits of silence. Nature seemed consenting that their hands should be joined, their eyes intermingling. And when Evan, with a lover's craving, wished her lips to say what her eyes said so well, Rose drew his fingers up, and, with an arch smile and a blush, kissed them. The simple act set his heart thumping, and from the look of love, she saw an expression of pain pass through him. Her fealty - her guileless, fearless truth - which the kissing of his hand brought vividly before him, conjured its contrast as well in this that was hidden from her, or but half suspected. Did she know - know and love him still?..'

from Evan Harrington by George Meredith (Chapter XXIII)

Commonplace Book

'Over a length of the stream the red round harvest-moon was rising, and the weakened youth was this evening at the mercy of the charm that encircled him. The water curved, dimpled, and flowed flat, and the whole body of it rushed into the spaces of sad splendour. The clustered trees stood like temples of darkness; their shadows lengthened supernaturally; and a pale gloom crept between them on the sward. He had been thinking for some time that Rose would knock at his door, and give him her voice, at least; but she did not come; and when he had gazed out on the stream till his eyes ached, he felt he must go and walk by it. Those little flashes of the hurrying tide spoke to him of a secret rapture and of a joy-seeking impulse; the pouring onward of all the blood of life to one illumined heart, mournful from excess of love.'

from Evan Harrington by George Meredith (Chapter XXIII)

Commonplace Book

'Some reversal of blood and annihilation of thought took place as the covered prominence of her breasts pressed on the front of his dinner-jacket. His mouth at this moment[,] had it been a dog's, would have made a mother draw her child away.'

from A Share of the World by Hugo Charteris (Part Two, Chapter 3)

Commonplace Book

'There followed, as he walked away, one of those moments when he came face to face with his life. And he experienced the vacuum which at that time Sart[r]es extolled, with international success, to his juniors, but which Nature allegedly abhors; he experienced nausee and the only joy left seemed to kick it all down - the sweet-tasting "No," of a child asked nicely.'

from A Share of the World by Hugo Charteris (Part Two, Chapter 1)

Commonplace Book

'He had let go eventually with relief. The taste of ashes he discovered had been stronger than he had known. The relationship had become habit; a lie in a very vacant niche.'

from A Share of the World by Hugo Charteris (Part Two, Chapter 1)

Cometh Up as a Flower by Rhoda Broughton (1867)

This concentrated, small-scene novel stands in sharp contrast to Broughton's other work from her inaugural year. Where Not Wisely, But Too Well seems a looking forward to the sprawling, hothouse works of the sensation novelists, this charming piece has a strong element of looking back to the unity and tightness of Jane Austen, among others. And charm is its strongest point - Broughton's humour and brightness of prose guarantee that. Eleanora Le Strange and her sister Dorothea are the head and the foil. Nelly is red-haired and passionate in a slightly unruly way, where Dolly is prettier and more calculating. The love of Nelly's life comes in the form of a penniless soldier; Dolly couldn't be more horrified at the prospect of her younger sister marrying no money, and engineers quietly behind the scenes for the problem to go away. What she doesn't calculate for, and can't because it's not in her nature, is that Nelly's love is all-consuming. Nelly is pushed, heartbroken, toward an ageing wealthy lord, only to realise Dolly's perfidy too late. The mid-Victorian scheme is then realised to the full with a quite un-Austenian conclusion; the star-crossed pair are doomed. Even this sadness charms, proving Broughton to be a skilled tensioner of tone.