Personification

That perches in the soul -

Because I could not stop for Death – He kindly stopped for me – The Carriage held but just Ourselves –

Whan that Aprill with his shoures soote

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! Rage! Blow!

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed

was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

On an exceptionally hot evening early in July a young man came out of the garret in which he lodged in S. Place and walked slowly, as though in hesitation, towards K. bridge.

Tom appeared on the sidewalk with a bucket of whitewash and a long-handled brush. He surveyed the fence, and all gladness left him and a deep melancholy settled down upon his spirit. Thirty yards of board fence nine feet high. Life to him seemed hollow, and existence but a burden.

A Saturday afternoon in November was approaching the time of twilight, and the vast tract of unenclosed wild known as Egdon Heath embrowned itself moment by moment.

The trumpets sounded, and instantly the arena was cleared for the race. The people shouted in a frenzy of gladness, and the earth and the air seemed to tremble with the transport.

The dry staring fact was that she had a great deal of money.

"Justice" was done, and the President of the Immortals, in Aeschylean phrase, had ended his sport with Tess.

A very little boy stood upon a heap of gravel for the honor of Rum Alley. He was throwing stones at howling urchins from Devil's Row who were circling madly about the heap and pelting at him.

The cold passed reluctantly from the earth, and the retiring fogs revealed an army stretched out on the hills, resting. As the landscape changed from brown to green, …

The boy stood with his back to the rick, and his eyes fixed on the far horizon, as if he could discern there, in the vast expanse, some promise of happier times; and perhaps he could, for such minds are often the victims of their own imagination.

The voice of the sea is seductive; never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander for a spell in abysses of solitude; …

The reaches opened before us and closed behind, as if the forest had stepped leisurely across the water to bar the way for our return.

The reaches opened before us and closed behind, as if the forest had stepped leisurely across the water to bar the way for our return.

When a girl leaves her home at eighteen, she does one of two things. Either she falls into saving hands and becomes better, or she rapidly assumes the cosmopolitan standard of virtue and becomes worse.

He was sounding the deeps of his nature, and of the parts of his nature that were deeper than he, going back into the womb of Time.

He was sounding the deeps of his nature, and of the parts of his nature that were deeper than he, going back into the womb of Time.