"Elia" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... is sometimes silent, but ever and anon it gives way to what may in charity be presumed to be a crow—-an uncouth, discordant effort to imitate the boastful, tuneful challenge of the civilised rooster. In common with "Elia" (and others) the megapode has no ear for music. It seems to have been practising "cock-a-doodle-doo" all its life in the solitary corners and undergrowth, and to have not yet arrived within quavers of it. It "abhors the ...
— The Confessions of a Beachcomber • E J Banfield
... with his Roman look. And before the morning comes, and Lamb stutters yet more thickly—for there is a slight flavour of punch in the apartment—what talk there has been of Hogarth's prints, of Izaak Walton, of the old dramatists, of Sir Thomas Browne's "Urn Burial," with Elia's quaint humour breaking through every interstice, and flowering in every fissure and cranny of the conversation! One likes to think of these social gatherings of wit and geniuses; they are more interesting than conclaves of kings or convocations ...
— Dreamthorp - A Book of Essays Written in the Country • Alexander Smith
... may challenge my rank? Nevertheless, inquisitive, consider the mysteries that lie in the Turkish-looking sobriquet of "Mufti;" its vowels and its consonants are full of strict intention I never saw cause why the most charming of essayists hid himself in "Elia," but he may for all that have had pregnant reasons; even so, (but that slender wit could read my riddle,) you shall perhaps find fault with my Mussulman agnomen; still you and I equally participate in ...
— The Complete Prose Works of Martin Farquhar Tupper • Martin Farquhar Tupper
... numerous "weems," or underground houses, really used as human abodes, and were they actually so very dark, that when one of the inmates ventured on a joke, he was obliged—as suggested by "Elia"—to handle his neighbour's cheek to feel if there was any ...
— Archaeological Essays, Vol. 1 • James Y. Simpson
... cousinship to the Waltons, and binds him, and all the simplicity of his talk, to his heart, for aye. There is never a hillside under whose oaks or chestnuts I lounge upon a smoky afternoon of August, but a pocket Elia is as coveted and as cousinly a companion as a pocket Walton, or a White of Selborne. And upon wet days in my library, I conjure up the image of the thin, bent old gentleman—Charles Lamb—to sit over against me, and I watch his kindly, beaming ...
— The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 14, No. 83, September, 1864 • Various |
