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Simile extended
Houses counted among the Silent People. Walls have ears, but no tongue. Houses, trees, the dead — they tell no tales.
the fields of poppies and golden stubble,
Haha
he began to feel the balm of silent things,
that still, quiet landscape the future, after he himself had died.
Cf. the peace, and secret, of still life, p. 86
the thralldom in F...
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Old Ebeneezo...
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Dame Marigold
Very touching scene, in a sad way
And then it all began over again
Her attitude to the calamity was
“Marigold, you madden me! You’re … you’re not a woman.
Simile ouch!
Hempie’s
A relationship that has become artificial, and connected, on one side, with a sense of duty rather than with spontaneous affection, is always an uncomfortable one.
the magnanimous enemy
Prunella,
a certain borrowed preciousness
Simile xtnded twice
it is the cry of the cock turned into perfume.
Are there bowls of roses in the Fairies’ parlors?
and the Silent People,”
we used always to whisper that they came from beyond the hills.”
“I was country-bred, Master Nat, and I learned not to mind the smell of a fox or of a civet cat … or of a Fairy.
though we can’t always pick and choose our neighbors, neighborliness is a virtue all the same.
Haha
But a good nurse must keep her mind to herself — if it’s not the same as that of her master and mistress.
If folks know they’re not wanted, it just makes them all the more anxious to come— be they Fairies or Dorimarites. It’s just because we’re all so scared of our neighbors that we get bamboozled by them.
No, fairy fruit nor nothing else can poison a clean stomach.”
Life has its sad side, and we must take the rough with the smooth. Why, maids have died on their marriage eve, or, what’s worse, bringing their first baby into the world, and the world’s wagged on all the same.
Life’s sad enough, in all conscience, but there’s nothing to be frightened about in it or to turn one’s stomach.
‘There’s no clock like the sun and no calendar like the stars.’ And why? Because it gets one used to the look of Time. There’s no bogey from o...
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Simile
They say the fruit from over the hills makes one sing. I’ve never tasted so much as a sherd of it, but for all that I can sing.”
Hempie, with triumphant tenderness, was stroking his hands and murmuring soothing words, as she had done when he was a little boy.
As she sang, Master Nathaniel again heard the Note.
as quiet as trees and pictures and the past,
Triple simile!
Master Nathaniel
Simile
Endymion Leer and Hempie had reached by very different paths the same conclusion — that, after all, there was nothing to be frightened about;
there were facts as well as shadows.
Simile extended
Pride and resentment are not indigenous to the human heart; and perhaps it is due to the gardener’s innate love of the exotic that we take such pains to make them thrive.
Narrator’s bon mot. Metaphor Simile
a sentimental velleity.
Smile extended
Double simile
so fine a medicine was the will to action.
There had always been something rather brutal about Ambrose’s common sense.
Haha
