Triumph

Chapter 26 Atropos's smile shone out, full of repulsive triumph, and full ofFull of fear.

Yes!” Channis came to the realization that he was himself, and there was incredible triumph and joy in that.

For that sum Joan of Arc, the Savior of France, was sold; sold to her enemies; to the enemies of her country; enemies who had lashed and thrashed and thumped and trounced France for a century and made holiday sport of it; enemies who had forgotten, years and years ago, what a Frenchman’s face was like, so used were they to seeing nothing but his back; enemies whom she had whipped, whom she had cowed, whom she had taught to respect French valor, newborn in her nation by the breath of her spirit; enemies who hungered for her life as being the only puissance able to stand between English triumph and French degradation.

What a triumph for him, as she often thought, could he know that the proposals which she had proudly spurned only four months ago, would now have been gladly and gratefully received!

‘My lords,’ said Gandalf, ‘listen to the words of the Steward of Gondor before he died: You may triumph on the fields of the Pelennor for a day, but against the Power that has now arisen there is no victory.

She is Azor Ahai returned … and her triumph over darkness will bring a summer that will never end … death itself will bend its knee, and all those who die fighting in her cause shall be reborn …” “Do I have to be reborn in this same body?” asked Tyrion.

Let me hear other groans, and trumpets blown Of triumph calm, and hymns of festival, From the gold peaks of heaven’s high-piled clouds; Voices of soft proclaim, and silver stir Of strings in hollow shells; and there shall be Beautiful things made new, for the surprise Of the sky-children.” So he feebly ceased, With such a poor and sickly-sounding pause, Methought I heard some old man of the earth Bewailing earthly loss; nor could my eyes And ears act with that unison of sense Which marries sweet sound with the grace of form, And dolorous accent from a tragic harp With large limb’d visions.

And precious and dear as many persons are to me—father, sister, wife—those dearest to me—yet dreadful and unnatural as it seems, I would give them all at once for a moment of glory, of triumph over men, of love from men I don’t know and never shall know, for the love of these men here,” he thought, as he listened to voices in Kutúzov’s courtyard.

Let's go in the bedroom.” She smiled at him, such a smile of triumph and sensual promise that he shuddered from it, and his own eager response to it.

“—And if it does come, while we live to see it triumph—I hope, for her sake, Destiny will keep her husband out of France.” “Her husband’s destiny,” said Madame Defarge, with her usual composure, “will take him where he is to go, and will lead him to the end that is to end him.

In the moment of his triumph, he saw the death prepared for him, yet he accepted the treachery.

He remembered it as though it were yesterday and knew it would haunt him until his dying day.He had been standing alone in this very office, savoring the triumph that was his after so many years of dreaming and scheming, when he had heard a cough behind him, just like tonight, and turned to find that ugly little portrait talking to him, announcing that the Minister of Magic was about to arrive and introduce himself.Naturally, he had thought that the long campaign and the strain of the election had caused him to go mad.

a book for the lovers of words.” —Albany Times Union “Maguire’s triumph is that he manages the impossible: He provides a wonderful surprise ending without changing the story of ‘Cinderella’ [and] he successfully challenges the notions of good and evil.” —Metroland And for Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West “An amazing novel.” —John Updike “I fell quickly and totally under the spell of this remarkable, wry, and fully realized story.” —Wally Lamb “Save a space on the shelf between Alice and The Hobbit.” —Kirkus Reviews “A staggering feat of wordcraft.

The last I saw of Count Dracula was his kissing his hand to me; with a red light of triumph in his eyes, and with a smile that Judas in hell might be proud of.

After the triumph of the international proletariat, war would of course be inconceivable; and who can figure the cost of war to humanity—not merely the value of the lives and the material that it destroys, not merely the cost of keeping millions of men in idleness, of arming and equipping them for battle and parade, but the drain upon the vital energies of society by the war-attitude and the war-terror, the brutality and ignorance, the drunkenness, prostitution, and crime it entails, the industrial impotence and the moral deadness?

Not only Trojans fall; but, in their turn, The vanquish’d triumph, and the victors mourn.

That's where Mercer's triumph manifests itself, there at the end of the great sidereal cycle.

For while Copernicus has persuaded us to believe, contrary to all the senses, that the earth does not stand fast, Boscovich has taught us to abjure the belief in the last thing that “stood fast” of the earth—the belief in “substance,” in “matter,” in the earth-residuum, and particle-atom: it is the greatest triumph over the senses that has hitherto been gained on earth.

Aye,” lighting from the boat to the deck, “thus I trample on thee, thou paltry thing that feebly pointest on high; thus I split and destroy thee!” As the frantic old man thus spoke and thus trampled with his live and dead feet, a sneering triumph that seemed meant for Ahab, and a fatalistic despair that seemed meant for himself—these passed over the mute, motionless Parsee’s face.

There were illuminations, fireworks, horse races and velocipede races, and as a further sign of triumph he commanded that the prisons should be opened and all the prisoners freed.

He wants to have a big triumph this fall all by himself.” “Want to go back to the café?” “Yes.

But, instead of this they make the transgressor triumph, and the Almighty fall.

I believe that the Spirit of God led my steps to thee and that he also enables me to quit thee in triumph; the secret cause of my presence within thy walls I have confided alone to him who only has had the power to read my heart.

“You’ve gone and got married!” “Yes, please, but I never will again;” and he went down upon his knees, with a penitent clasping of hands, and a face full of mischief, mirth, and triumph.

I know well how the prince and others would like me, instead of indulging in all these wicked words of my own, to sing, to the glory and triumph of morality, that well-known verse of Gilbert’s: “ ‘O, puissent voir longtemps votre beauté sacrée Tant d’amis, sourds à mes adieux!

It was a smile of triumph; it was also a smile of despair.

Yes, they are on the warpath right enough.” Peter was a little annoyed with them for knowing so much; but if he wanted to lord it over them his triumph was at hand, for have I not told you that anon fear fell upon them?

I might be able to enjoy one final triumph, a happy ending, and perhaps retire quietly.

It was a token of thankfulness that the first stage in the culminating world-war had been crowned by the triumph of righteousness; it was at the same time a visibly embodied supplication that God might not long delay the Advent which alone could bring the final peace.

How the great cities appear—how the Democratic masses, turbulent, wilful, as I love them, How the whirl, the contest, the wrestle of evil with good, the sounding and resounding, keep on and on, How society waits unform’d, and is for a while between things ended and things begun, How America is the continent of glories, and of the triumph of freedom and of the Democracies, and of the fruits of society, and of all that is begun, And how the States are complete in themselves—and how all triumphs and glories are complete in themselves, to lead onward, And how these of mine and of the States will in their turn be convuls’d, and serve other parturitions and transitions, And how all people, sights, combinations, the democratic masses too, serve—and how every fact, and war itself, with all its horrors, serves, And how now or at any time each serves the exquisite transition of death.

But after last night’s triumph, I don’t have a lot of room to criticize his choices.

O joy to see before I die The only God-anointed King, And hear the silver trumpets ring A triumph as He passes by!

You, my creator, would tear me to pieces and triumph; remember that, and tell me why I should pity man more than he pities me?

Studley the Teenager will be victorious, free to cruise in triumph down Bellewoode Valley and out into the greater world of adult men in cool cars, free to go return his overdue videotape, Raft Warriors V: The Final Battle.

The preordained frangibility of the hymen, the presupposed intangibility of the thing in itself: the incongruity and disproportion between the selfprolonging tension of the thing proposed to be done and the selfabbreviating relaxation of the thing done: the fallaciously inferred debility of the female, the muscularity of the male: the variations of ethical codes: the natural grammatical transition by inversion involving no alteration of sense of an aorist preterite proposition (parsed as masculine subject, monosyllabic onomatopœic transitive verb with direct feminine object) from the active voice into its correlative aorist preterite proposition (parsed as feminine subject, auxiliary verb and quasimonosyllabic onomatopœic past participle with complementary masculine agent) in the passive voice: the continued product of seminators by generation: the continual production of semen by distillation: the futility of triumph or protest or vindication: the inanity of extolled virtue: the lethargy of nescient matter: the apathy of the stars.

It was triumph, and a mood of enlargement; we had avoided our sultry selves, conquered our geometrical completeness, snatched a momentary “change of mind.” Yet in reality we had borne the vicarious for our own sakes, or at least because it was pointed for our benefit: and could escape from this knowledge only by a make-belief in sense as well as in motive.

The night however, was far gone into the morning—the morning, black as it was, was nearly ripe for the conception of the day—the inmates of my house were locked in the most rigorous hours of slumber; and I determined, flushed as I was with hope and triumph, to venture in my new shape as far as to my bedroom.

He who can read the signs nor sink unmanned Into the half-deceit of some intoxicant From shallow wits; who knows no work can stand, Whether health, wealth or peace of mind were spent On master work of intellect or hand, No honour leave its mighty monument, Has but one comfort left: all triumph would But break upon his ghostly solitude.

Her frock of taffeta and green velvet, with three strings of glass beads, and large folding eyeglasses dangling from a black ribbon, was a triumph of refinement.

With suppressed triumph I laid my hand face upwards on the table.

These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die; like fire and powder, Which as they kiss consume.

She looked down with a swelling sense of triumph as The Preacher took his stance on the first step.

The Bandar-log howled with triumph, and scuffled away to the upper branches where Bagheera dared not follow, shouting: “He has noticed us!

It bellowed, in triumph, and in challenge.

The chief indignant grins a ghastly smile; Revenge and scorn within his bosom boil: When thus the prince with pious rage inflamed: "Had not the inglorious wound thy malice aim'd Fall'n guiltless of the mark, my certain spear Had made thee buy the brutal triumph dear: Nor should thy sire a queen his daughter boast; The suitor, now, had vanish'd in a ghost: No more, ye lewd compeers, with lawless power Invade my dome, my herds and flocks devour: For genuine worth, of age mature to know, My grape shall redden, and my harvest grow Or, if each other's wrongs ye still support, With rapes and riot to profane my court; What single arm with numbers can contend?

She is Azor Ahai returned … and her triumph over darkness will bring a summer that will never end … death itself will bend its knee, and all those who die fighting in her cause shall be reborn ...” “Do I have to be reborn in this same body?” asked Tyrion.

But when Valentin thought of all that had happened in between, of all that had led him to his triumph, he racked his brains for the smallest rhyme or reason in it.

The groups change more swiftly, swell with new arrivals, dissolve and form in the same breath; already there are wanderers, confident girls who weave here and there among the stouter and more stable, become for a sharp, joyous moment the centre of a group, and then, excited with triumph, glide on through the sea-change of faces and voices and colour under the constantly changing light.

Such were these Giants, men of high renown; For in those days might only shall be admired, And valour and heroic virtue called; To overcome in battle, and subdue Nations, and bring home spoils with infinite Man-slaughter, shall be held the highest pitch Of human glory, and for glory done Of triumph, to be styled great conquerors, Patrons of mankind, gods, and sons of gods— Destroyers rightlier called, and plagues of men.

He wept, he entreated, he promised, he flattered, he importuned, he pretended with so much feeling and apparent sincerity, that he overthrew the virtuous resolves of Camilla and won the triumph he least expected and most longed for.

‘No hands.’ And to an audience stilled with awe, he distributed certified photostatic copies of the obscure regulation on which he had built his unforgettable triumph.