Grateful

In spite of everything else, he was enormously grateful to be out.

In this meeting there may be more than chance; but the purpose is not clear to me, and I fear to say too much.’ ‘I am deeply grateful,’ said Frodo; ‘but I wish you would tell me plainly what the Black Riders are.

Now she turned her head slowly, and her eye wandered along the lines of standing courtiers till it fell upon a young man who was very quietly dressed; then her face lighted joyously, and she ran and threw herself at his feet, and clasped his knees, exclaiming in that soft melodious voice which was her birthright and was now charged with deep and tender feeling: “God of his grace give you long life, O dear and gentle Dauphin!” In his astonishment and exultation de Metz cried out: “By the shadow of God, it is an amazing thing!” Then he mashed all the bones of my hand in his grateful grip, and added, with a proud shake of his mane, “Now, what have these painted infidels to say!” Meantime the young person in the plain clothes was saying to Joan: “Ah, you mistake, my child, I am not the King.

Why could not he keep on quarrelling with you, as his father did before him?” “Why, indeed, he does seem to have had some filial scruples on that head, as you will hear.” Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent, 15th October Dear Sir, The disagreement subsisting between yourself and my late honoured father always gave me much uneasiness, and since I have had the misfortune to lose him, I have frequently wished to heal the breach; but for some time I was kept back by my own doubts, fearing lest it might seem disrespectful to his memory for me to be on good terms with anyone, with whom it had always pleased him to be at variance.—“There, Mrs. Bennet.”—My mind however is now made up on the subject, for having received ordination at Easter, I have been so fortunate as to be distinguished by the patronage of the Right Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, widow of Sir Lewis de Bourgh, whose bounty and beneficence has preferred me to the valuable rectory of this parish, where it shall be my earnest endeavour to demean myself with grateful respect towards her Ladyship, and be ever ready to perform those rites and ceremonies which are instituted by the Church of England.

I was grateful to Newt for calling it to my attention, for the quotation captured in a couplet the cruel paradox of Bokononist thought, the heartbreaking necessity of lying about reality, and the heartbreaking impossibility of lying about it.

“You wished for peace, and it is yours.” And you wished for blood, and soon enough I must give it to you, Dany thought, but what she said was, “I am grateful.” The excitement of the day had inflamed her husband’s passions.

But the rose leaves herself upon the brier, For winds to kiss and grateful bees to feed, And the ripe plum still wears its dim attire, The undisturbed lake has crystal space: Why then should man, teasing the world for grace, Spoil his salvation for a fierce miscreed?

XIX From the day when Pierre, after leaving the Rostóvs’ with Natásha’s grateful look fresh in his mind, had gazed at the comet that seemed to be fixed in the sky and felt that something new was appearing on his own horizon—from that day the problem of the vanity and uselessness of all earthly things, that had incessantly tormented him, no longer presented itself.

Nick was dimly grateful, but most of what little consciousness he had left was taken up with the agony in his mouth.

Next to her preservation of his own last grateful love and blessing, and her overcoming of her sorrow, to devote herself to their dear child, he adjured her, as they would meet in Heaven, to comfort her father.

Jessica recognized the effort to lighten her mood and was grateful for it, but could not take her mind from the danger that confronted her.

“What do you mean, ‘help’?”Professor Umbridge moved forward into the office, still smiling her sickly smile.“Why, I thought you might be grateful for a little extra authority.”Harry would not have been surprised to see sparks fly from Professor McGonagall’s nostrils.“You thought wrong,” she said, turning her back on Umbridge.

We’re grateful to you for your hospitality, but we aren’t beholden to you.” “When that peculiar van den Meer girl has tired of her new playmate, or learned whatever English she can pick up, you and your daughters will be out on the street,” says the Master darkly.

“Grateful that they begrudge us the merest dregs, while keeping space knows what for themselves - and keeping it with what purpose in mind?

Devotion is so rare, and we are so grateful to those who show it unasked to those we love.

All that a mere man could do, it seemed to Jurgis, was to take a thing like this as he found it, and do as he was told; to be given a place in it and a share in its wonderful activities was a blessing to be grateful for, as one was grateful for the sunshine and the rain.

And, after him, the Daucian twins were slain, Laris and Thymbrus, on the Latian plain; So wondrous like in feature, shape, and size, As caus’d an error in their parents’ eyes— Grateful mistake!

My first reaction consisted of being grateful that we could afford a Penfield mood organ.

Great obligations do not make grateful, but revengeful; and when a small kindness is not forgotten, it becometh a gnawing worm.

And here, shipmates, is true and faithful repentance; not clamorous for pardon, but grateful for punishment.

This humane feeling does you great honor and I shall always be grateful to you for it.

The English engineer Hall, who assisted Paine in making the model of his iron bridge, wrote to his friends in England, in 1786: “My employer has Common Sense enough to disbelieve most of the common systematic theories of Divinity, but does not seem to establish any for himself.” But five years later Paine was able to lay the cornerstone of his temple: “With respect to religion itself, without regard to names, and as directing itself from the universal family of mankind to the Divine object of all adoration, it is man bringing to his Maker the fruits of his heart; and though those fruits may differ from each other like the fruits of the earth, the grateful tribute of everyone, is accepted.” (Rights of Man.

"Be grateful it still rests upon your shoulders, ser.

How often did he muse over it and pronounce the name of a dear friend—a friend lost to him forever; and on his deathbed, when the near approach of eternity seemed to have illumined his mind with supernatural light, this thought, which had until then been but a doubt, became a conviction, and his last words were, ‘Maximilian, it was Edmond Dantès!’ ” At these words the count’s paleness, which had for some time been increasing, became alarming; he could not speak; he looked at his watch like a man who has forgotten the hour, said a few hurried words to Madame Herbault, and pressing the hands of Emmanuel and Maximilian—“Madame,” said he, “I trust you will allow me to visit you occasionally; I value your friendship, and feel grateful to you for your welcome, for this is the first time for many years that I have thus yielded to my feelings”; and he hastily quitted the apartment.

Up he got, groped his way to the piano, laid a kind hand on either of the broad shoulders, and said, as gently as a woman— “I know, my boy, I know.” No answer for an instant; then Laurie asked sharply— “Who told you?” “Jo herself.” “Then there’s an end of it!” and he shook off his grandfather’s hands with an impatient motion; for, though grateful for the sympathy, his man’s pride could not bear a man’s pity.

Turn them into bread, and mankind will run after Thee like a flock of sheep, grateful and obedient, though forever trembling, lest Thou withdraw Thy hand and deny them Thy bread.” But Thou wouldst not deprive man of freedom and didst reject the offer, thinking, what is that freedom worth, if obedience is bought with bread?

Father Fauchelevent was an old man who had been an egoist all his life, and who, towards the end of his days, halt, infirm, with no interest left to him in the world, found it sweet to be grateful, and perceiving a generous action to be performed, flung himself upon it like a man, who at the moment when he is dying, should find close to his hand a glass of good wine which he had never tasted, and should swallow it with avidity.

That is a pretty story, and the end shows how grateful a bird can be; but if we tell it we must also tell the whole adventure of the lagoon, which would of course be telling two adventures rather than just one.

“You still with me?” “Yeah … yeah, sorry.” He was grateful for Piper.

“Corn, my boy, for fodder; corn for fodder.” “Does he live there?” asks the black bonnet of the gray coat; and the hard-featured farmer reins up his grateful dobbin to inquire what you are doing where he sees no manure in the furrow, and recommends a little chip dirt, or any little waste stuff, or it may be ashes or plaster.

“I give it you freely.” (Denis made a suitably grateful murmur and grimace.)

But it seem’d to me, as the objects in Nature, the themes of aestheticism, and all special exploitations of the mind and soul, involve not only their own inherent quality, but the quality, just as inherent and important, of their point of view,8 the time had come to reflect all themes and things, old and new, in the lights thrown on them by the advent of America and democracy—to chant those themes through the utterance of one, not only the grateful and reverent legatee of the past, but the born child of the New World—to illustrate all through the genesis and ensemble of today; and that such illustration and ensemble are the chief demands of America’s prospective imaginative literature.

Whatever triggered Peeta’s decision — and I suspect it had to do with my outperforming him in training — I should be nothing but grateful for it.

Yet this dull world is grateful for thy song; Our nations do thee homage—even she, That cruel queen of vine-clad Tuscany, Who bound with crown of thorns thy living brow, Hath decked thine empty tomb with laurels now, And begs in vain the ashes of her son.

From your lips first have I heard the voice of kindness directed towards me; I shall be for ever grateful; and your present humanity assures me of success with those friends whom I am on the point of meeting.’ “‘May I know the names and residence of those friends?’ “I paused.

Very gratefully, with grateful appreciation, with sincere appreciative gratitude, in appreciatively grateful sincerity of regret, he declined.

We may be grateful to Providence that the Germans got the V-1’s and V-2’s late and in limited quantities and even more grateful that they did not get the atomic bomb at all.

As for prisoners, Nasir would not be grateful for two hundred useless mouths: so we should have to kill them; or let them go, revealing our numbers to the enemy.

And should your masters ignore my warnings, trying further interference with my wishes, I shall crush them.” Tears welled from her eyes and ran down her cheeks, but Leto was grateful that she did not indulge in any other display such as falling to her knees.

Indeed, we are very grateful to Shere Khan!” “Shall I tell him of your gratitude?” said Tabaqui.

All of ’em depending on me and picking on me and not a damn one of ’em grateful!

The super-detective always has his rooms littered with rubies and pearls and emeralds from grateful Royal clients.” “It’s very interesting to hear about these things from the inside,” said my sister complacently.

How grateful a task it would be to trace them all and study them!

Be grateful it didn’t take you too.

Oh, grateful for the good his bounty gave, I'll grieve, till sorrow sink me to the grave!

“You wished for peace, and it is yours.” And you wished for blood, and soon enough I must give it to you, Dany thought, but what she said was, “I am grateful.” The excitement of the day had inflamed her husband’s passions.

By six o’clock Michaelis was worn out, and grateful for the sound of a car stopping outside.

How did he love this water, how did it delight him, how grateful was he to it!

Sweet is the breath of Morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the Sun, When first on this delightful land he spreads His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, Glistering with dew; fragrant the fertile Earth After soft showers; and sweet the coming-on Of grateful Evening mild; then silent Night, With this her solemn bird, and this fair Moon, And these the gems of Heaven, her starry train: But neither breath of Morn, when she ascends With charm of earliest birds; nor rising Sun On this delightful land; nor herb, fruit, flower, Glistering with dew; nor fragrance after showers; Nor grateful Evening mild; nor silent Night, With this her solemn bird; nor walk by moon, Or glittering star-light, without thee is sweet.

Well, then, as this is clear to my mind, I can venture to make him believe things that have neither head nor tail, like that affair of the answer to the letter, and that other of six or eight days ago, which is not yet in history, that is to say, the affair of the enchantment of my lady Dulcinea; for I made him believe she is enchanted, though there’s no more truth in it than over the hills of Úbeda.”714 The duchess begged him to tell her about the enchantment or deception, so Sancho told the whole story exactly as it had happened, and his hearers were not a little amused by it; and then resuming, the duchess said, “In consequence of what worthy Sancho has told me, a doubt starts up in my mind, and there comes a kind of whisper to my ear that says, ‘If Don Quixote be mad, crazy, and cracked, and Sancho Panza his squire knows it, and, notwithstanding, serves and follows him, and goes trusting to his empty promises, there can be no doubt he must be still madder and sillier than his master; and that being so, it will be cast in your teeth, señora duchess, if you give the said Sancho an island to govern; for how will he who does not know how to govern himself know how to govern others?’ ” “By God, señora,” said Sancho, “but that doubt comes timely; but your grace may say it out, and speak plainly, or as you like; for I know what you say is true, and if I were wise I should have left my master long ago; but this was my fate, this was my bad luck; I can’t help it, I must follow him; we’re from the same village, I’ve eaten his bread, I’m fond of him, I’m grateful, he gave me his ass-colts, and above all I’m faithful; so it’s quite impossible for anything to separate us, except the pickaxe and shovel.

‘I’ll be grateful to the man who tells me the truth.’ ‘He’ll hate you,’ said Yossarian.