...the one woman who had stood conspicuous, knitting, still knitted on with the steadfastness of Fate.
Charles DickensAbout author
- Author's profession: Novelist, Writer
- Nationality: english
- Born: February 7, 1812
- Died: June 9, 1870
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It is moonlight. Alone in the silence. I ascend my stairs once more, While waves remote in pale blue starlight. Crash on a white sand shore. It is moonlight. The garden is silent. I stand in my room alone. Across my wall, from the far-off moon, A rain of fire is thrown. There are houses hanging above the stars, And stars hung under the sea, And a wind from the long blue vault of time. Waves my curtains for me. I wait in the dark once more, swung between space and space: Before the mirror I...
Conrad Aiken
A full grown horse or dog is beyond comparison a more rational, as well as a more conversible animal, than an infant of a day, a week, or even [a] month old. But suppose the case were otherwise, what would it avail? The question is not Can they reason? nor, Can they talk? but, Can they suffer?
Jeremy Bentham