Through

Their only companion was the steady thundering rush of the water, drilling its auger path through the stone.

‘They will look for him from the White Tower,’ he said, ‘but he will not return from mountain or from sea.’ Then slowly he began to sing: Through Rohan over fen and field where the long grass grows The West Wind comes walking, and about the walls it goes.

I think it is developed through long training, since there are indications from encephalography that the potentialities of it are latent in the human mind.

In Paris, mobs roared through the streets nightly, sacking, burning, killing, unmolested, uninterrupted.

Sir William, how can you tell such a story?—Do not you know that Mr. Collins wants to marry Lizzy?” Nothing less than the complaisance of a courtier could have borne without anger such treatment; but Sir William’s good breeding carried him through it all; and though he begged leave to be positive as to the truth of his information, he listened to all their impertinence with the most forbearing courtesy.

Then they take somebody who’s dumb enough to break the law, and they put the point of the hook in through one side of his belly and out the other and they let him go—and there he hangs, by God, one damn sorry law-breaker.” “Good God!” “I don’t say it’s good,” said Crosby, “but I don’t say it’s bad, either.

You never know whether they really want you to stop, or whether they’re just scared as hell, or whether they’re just telling you to stop so that if you do go through with it, the blame’ll be on you, not them.

Through black smoke and swirling green fire, Davos glimpsed a swarm of small boats bearing downriver: a confusion of ferries and wherries, barges, skiffs, rowboats, and hulks that looked too rotten to float.

O let me lead her gently o’er the brook, Watch her half-smiling lips, and downward look; O let me for one moment touch her wrist; Let me one moment to her breathing list; And as she leaves me, may she often turn Her fair eyes looking through her locks auburne.

In front of them rows of gray cloaks were already visible through the smoke, and an officer catching sight of Bagratión rushed shouting after the crowd of retreating soldiers, ordering them back.

But in the end, I think it's perhaps best for Stu, Larry, Glen, Frannie, Ralph, Tom Cullen, Lloyd, and that dark fellow to belong to the reader, who will visualize them through the lens of imagination in a vivid and constantly changing way no camera can duplicate.

Mere messages in the earthly order of events had lately come to the English Crown and People, from a congress of British subjects in America: which, strange to relate, have proved more important to the human race than any communications yet received through any of the chickens of the Cock-lane brood.

Kynes scraped his face through sand, turning to look in that direction–nothing except a curving stretch of dune dancing with heat devils in the full glare of the sun.

Then, as the pain in the top of Harry’s head gave a particularly nasty throb, Uncle Vernon yelped and released Harry as though he had received an electric shock — some invisible force seemed to have surged through his nephew, making him impossible to hold.

You have seen them—the windows of canvas that painters work on so we can look through.

And looking across space with instruments, and intelligences such as we have scarcely dreamed of, they see, at its nearest distance only 35,000,000 of miles sunward of them, a morning star of hope, our own warmer planet, green with vegetation and grey with water, with a cloudy atmosphere eloquent of fertility, with glimpses through its drifting cloud wisps of broad stretches of populous country and narrow, navy-crowded seas.

As the evening fell it began to get very cold, and the growing twilight seemed to merge into one dark mistiness the gloom of the trees, oak, beech, and pine, though in the valleys which ran deep between the spurs of the hills, as we ascended through the Pass, the dark firs stood out here and there against the background of late-lying snow.

Of this endless modern examples could be given, showing how many treaties and engagements have been made void and of no effect through the faithlessness of princes; and he who has known best how to employ the fox has succeeded best.

She stood in the doorway, shepherded by Cousin Marija, breathless from pushing through the crowd, and in her happiness painful to look upon.

The streaming blood distain’d his arms around; And the disdainful soul came rushing through the wound.

I resemble that worm which crawls through dust, Lives in the dust, eats dust Until a passerby's foot crushes it.

Often, when he had had a long walk home through the Forest, he had wished that he were a bird; but now he thought jerkily to himself at the bottom of Kanga’s pocket, “If this is flying I shall never really take “If this is flying I shall never really take to “If this is flying I shall never really take to it.” And as he went up in the air he said, “Ooooooo!” and as he came down he said, “Ow!” And he was saying, “Ooooooo-ow, Ooooooo-ow, Ooooooo-ow” all the way to Kanga’s house.

157 The thought of suicide is a great consolation: by means of it one gets successfully through many a bad night.

Methinks that in looking at things spiritual, we are too much like oysters observing the sun through the water, and thinking that thick water the thinnest of air.

Good boys are obedient, and you—” “And I never obey.” “Good boys like to learn and to work, and you—” “And I instead lead an idle, vagabond life the year through.” “Good boys always speak the truth.” “And I always tell lies.” “Good boys go willingly to school.” “And school gives me pain all over the body.

“I don’t want to go through that hell again.” “We’d better keep away from each other.” “But, darling, I have to see you.

This single reflection will show that the doctrine of redemption is founded on a mere pecuniary idea corresponding to that of a debt which another person might pay; and as this pecuniary idea corresponds again with the system of second redemptions, obtained through the means of money given to the church for pardons, the probability is that the same persons fabricated both the one and the other of those theories; and that, in truth, there is no such thing as redemption; that it is fabulous; and that man stands in the same relative condition with his Maker he ever did stand, since man existed; and that it is his greatest consolation to think so.

Dunk pushed his fingers through his mop of sun-streaked hair.

“Ah, Danglars!” whispered Caderousse, “you have deceived me—the trick you spoke of last night has been played; but I cannot suffer a poor old man or an innocent girl to die of grief through your fault.

Our burdens are here, our road is before us, and the longing for goodness and happiness is the guide that leads us through many troubles and mistakes to the peace which is a true Celestial City.

For know, dear ones, that every one of us is undoubtedly responsible for all men and everything on earth, not merely through the general sinfulness of creation, but each one personally for all mankind and every individual man.

Lastly, she pictured to herself how this same little sister of hers would, in the aftertime, be herself a grown woman; and how she would keep, through all her riper years, the simple and loving heart of her childhood: and how she would gather about her other little children, and make their eyes bright and eager with many a strange tale, perhaps even with the dream of Wonderland of long ago: and how she would feel with all their simple sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys, remembering her own child-life, and the happy summer days.

Mademoiselle Baptistine had also in her own room a very large easy-chair of wood, which had formerly been gilded, and which was covered with flowered pekin; but they had been obliged to hoist this bergère up to the first story through the window, as the staircase was too narrow; it could not, therefore, be reckoned among the possibilities in the way of furniture.

I Peter Breaks Through All children, except one, grow up.

“Which means we’re ‘bad kids.’ Your family, or the court, or whoever, decided you were too much trouble, so they shipped you off to this lovely prison—sorry, ‘boarding school’—in Armpit, Nevada, where you learn valuable nature skills like running ten miles a day through the cacti and weaving daisies into hats!

What was the meaning of that South-Sea Exploring Expedition, with all its parade and expense, but an indirect recognition of the fact that there are continents and seas in the moral world to which every man is an isthmus or an inlet, yet unexplored by him, but that it is easier to sail many thousand miles through cold and storm and cannibals, in a government ship, with five hundred men and boys to assist one, than it is to explore the private sea, the Atlantic and Pacific Ocean of one’s being alone.

The family system will disappear; society, sapped at its very base, will have to find new foundations; and Eros, beautifully and irresponsibly free, will flit like a gay butterfly from flower to flower through a sunlit world.” “It sounds lovely,” said Anne.

Ere departing fade from my eyes your forests of bayonets; Spirit of gloomiest fears and doubts, (yet onward ever unfaltering pressing,) Spirit of many a solemn day and many a savage scene—electric spirit, That with muttering voice through the war now closed, like a tireless phantom flitted, Rousing the land with breath of flame, while you beat and beat the drum, Now as the sound of the drum, hollow and harsh to the last, reverberates round me, As your ranks, your immortal ranks, return, return from the battles, As the muskets of the young men yet lean over their shoulders, As I look on the bayonets bristling over their shoulders, As those slanted bayonets, whole forests of them appearing in the distance, approach and pass on, returning homeward, Moving with steady motion, swaying to and fro to the right and left, Evenly, lightly rising and falling while the steps keep time; Spirit of hours I knew, all hectic red one day, but pale as death next day, Touch my mouth ere you depart, press my lips close, Leave me your pulses of rage—bequeath them to me—fill me with currents convulsive, Let them scorch and blister out of my chants when you are gone, Let them identify you to the future in these songs.

“About the fire?” “I’ll rip off your cape if you’ll rip off mine,” he says through gritted teeth.

His gilded shrine lies open to the air; And cunning sculptor’s hands have carven there The calm white brow, as calm as earliest morn, The eyes that flashed with passionate love and scorn, The lips that sang of Heaven and of Hell, The almond-face which Giotto drew so well, The weary face of Dante;—to this day, Here in his place of resting, far away From Arno’s yellow waters, rushing down Through the wide bridges of that fairy town, Where the tall tower of Giotto seems to rise A marble lily under sapphire skies!

Life and death appeared to me ideal bounds, which I should first break through, and pour a torrent of light into our dark world.

Above him, in the house that owns the pool, a light has come on, and children are looking down at him through their bedroom windows, all warm and fuzzy in their Li'l Crips and Ninja Raft Warrior pajamas, which can either be flameproof or noncarcinogenic but not both at the same time.

His tangled hair and scraggy neck gave witness of unreadiness and through his misty glasses weak eyes looked up pleading.

Somebody in the zoo crowd asked him through the lecturer what the most valuable thing he had learned on Tralfamadore was so far, and Billy replied, ‘How the inhabitants of a whole planet can live in peace I As you know, I am from a planet that has been engaged in senseless slaughter since the beginning of time.

Sometimes these selves would converse in the void; and then madness was very near, as I believe it would be near the man who could see things through the veils at once of two customs, two educations, two environments.

To repeat: The Precrime Agency of the Federal Westbloc Government is in the process of locating and neutralizing its former Commissioner, John Allison Anderton, who, through the methodology of the precrime-system, is hereby declared a potential murderer and as such forfeits his rights to freedom and all its privileges.” “It didn’t take him long,” Anderton muttered, appalled.

Now in God Emperor of Dune, we are treated to an intriguing look inside the head of Frank Herbert—through his character Leto Atreides II.

or is it the mere radiance of a foul soul that thus transpires through, and transfigures, its clay continent?

Knight Behold I bend before thee to the ground Until my beard is in the twisted leaves That with their fiery ruin fill the hall, As words of thine through fourscore years have filled My echoing heart.

Wild Thing out of the Wild Woods, what do you want?” Wild Dog said, “O my Enemy and Wife of my Enemy, what is this that smells so good in the Wild Woods?” Then the Woman picked up a roasted mutton-bone and threw it to Wild Dog, and said, “Wild Thing out of the Wild Woods, taste and try.” Wild Dog gnawed the bone, and it was more delicious than anything he had ever tasted, and he said, “O my Enemy and Wife of my Enemy, give me another.” The Woman said, “Wild Thing out of the Wild Woods, help my Man to hunt through the day and guard this Cave at night, and I will give you as many roast bones as you need.” “Ah!” said the Cat, listening.

When I was a young man I made up my mind what I wanted to do, and stuck to it through thick and thin, and that’s why I’m where I am today, and—Myra!

As I stood hesitating in the hall, with all this passing through my mind, Caroline’s voice came again, with a sharper note in it.

Alas poor Romeo, he is already dead, stabbed with a white wench’s black eye; run through the ear with a love song, the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy’s butt-shaft.

The man who first selected a pigeon with a slightly larger tail, never dreamed what the descendants of that pigeon would become through long-continued, partly unconscious and partly methodical, selection.

In case a tired lamb, half asleep in the smothering dust, should fail to answer, its mother would come running back through the flock toward the spot whence its last response was heard, and refused to be comforted until she found it, the one of a thousand, though to our eyes and ears all seemed alike.

“I’ll get a chain for it when we get to the market.” They were walking through a maze of caves, deep tunnels hacked from the limestone that seemed almost prehistoric.

You’re not your family, and you’re not who you tell yourself.” The mechanic yells into the wind, “You’re not your name.” A space monkey in the back seat picks it up: “You’re not your problems.” The mechanic yells, “You’re not your problems.” A space monkey shouts, “You’re not your age.” The mechanic yells, “You’re not your age.” Here, the mechanic swerves us into the oncoming lane, filling the car with headlights through the windshield, cool as ducking jabs.

Through not observing what is in the mind of another a man has seldom been seen to be unhappy; but those who do not observe the movements of their own minds must of necessity be unhappy.

Go prophesy at home, thy sons advise: Here thou art sage in vain—I better read the skies Unnumber'd birds glide through the aerial way; Vagrants of air, and unforeboding stray.

Bran never said the words aloud, but they were often on his lips as their ragged company trudged through groves of ancient oaks and towering grey-green sentinels, past gloomy soldier pines and bare brown chestnut trees.

She and I walked another world from yours, and trod palaces of crystal while you were plodding through tunnels and corridors of brick.

This is a valley of ashes—a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens; where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and, finally, with a transcendent effort, of ash-grey men, who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air.

He was passed through every test, Was vaccinated, numbered, washed and dressed, Proctored, inspected, whipt, examined weekly, And for some nineteen years he bore it meekly.

By the River Siddhartha walked through the forest, was already far from the city, and knew nothing but that one thing, that there was no going back for him, that this life, as he had lived it for many years until now, was over and done away with, and that he had tasted all of it, sucked everything out of it until he was disgusted with it.

Naturally, through indifference, he abandoned all the resolutions he had made.

He through the armed files Darts his experienced eye, and soon traverse The whole battalion views—their order due, Their visages and stature as of gods; Their number last he sums.

By God your worship should read what I have read of Felixmarte of Hircania, how with one single backstroke he cleft five giants asunder through the middle as if they had been made of bean-pods like the little friars the children make;318 and another time he attacked a very great and powerful army, in which there were more than a million six hundred thousand soldiers, all armed from head to foot, and he routed them all as if they had been flocks of sheep.

Lieutenant Scheisskopf longed desperately to win parades and sat up half the night working on it while his wife waited amorously for him in bed thumbing through Krafft-Ebing to her favorite passages.

There’s the scarlet thread of murder running through the colourless skein of life, and our duty is to unravel it, and isolate it, and expose every inch of it.

He supplies them abundantly with what they have occasion for, and they accommodate him as amply with what he has occasion for, and a general plenty diffuses itself through all the different ranks of the society.