Linguistic Strip-Mining 2025

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Explanation:

So they basically mean to say that a whole book can feel so big when in reality, it’s those specific sentences, phrases, and words that really hit you in the head and get that imagination fired up and recalling it years later in an imagined scene. They’re just finally writing them down instead of relying on vague impressions from a long time ago that they would have to re-discover through re-reading everything, which wouldn’t really bring it back and be a whole new experience altogether, even as re-reading does ground those remembered impressions back again to those specific syntaxes.
That means even 1.5 million words of a long fantasy series can be turned into 100,000 words of those literary sentence minings. The brain does the rest of the work, but you gave yourself a incredibly precise and comprehensive map than if you had none of those minings in the first place. It’s why summaries don’t work. The brain never latches onto impressions. They latch onto hyper-specifics that stun them for life.

June 14, 2025
Note 0
A General Collection of Voyages and Travels, Vol. 2 by John Pinkerton (1808)
wild-fowl, saffron, rich pastures, corn, clay and loam soils, pasturage, dairies of cows, waggons containing eighty or ninety hundred weight each, drawn with six horses only, throughfare, market-towns, wheat, barley, malt, and all sorts of grain, many hundred quarters, bone-lace, straw-hats, plucked up, when balled, it is laid upon hurdles to dry; and then ground into powder, spread on a floor, and watered, which is called couching, and then it is turned every day till it is perfectly dry and moudly, which is called silvering. After silvering, it is weighed, and put into a bag containing two hundred weight, and then sent to the dyer to try it, who sets a price on it according to its goodness. The best is commonly valued at 181 a ton.
pleasant wood and fine streams, graziers, the shavings and cuttings of paper, corn-fields and meadows, sweet healthful air,
Alaska by James A. Michener (1988)
flecks of rock, resounding cracks, sunlight glistening on its towering spires, with waves playing about its feet, clouds passing overhead,
Archipelago, Volumes 2-12 (1974)
corkscrew road, Luzon sweeping out as far as its western boundary in the mountains of Zambales, high earthfill dam, the resettlement of people, ancient townsite, town nestled among rivers and hills, deer, boar, and hunting game abounding in the forests all around the town attracted Quezon, then serving in the Senate, Nueve Ecija game, huntsman, few left precipitously, cargo-packed jeepney,
page 18
Note 1
All the King's Men by Robert Penn Warren (1946)
Low-slung canvas chair, swivel chair, chintz-covered chair, shabby over-stuffed chair, split-bottom chair, red plush seat of a stiff, carved, walnut chair, sort of hitched my chair back from the table, great soft leather chair, leather chair, So I sat down and hitched my chair up closer and lighted a cigarette, rocking chair, scooted his manacled hands beneath him to the back of his knees,
Note 2
The 900 Days: Siege of Leningrad by Harrison E. Salisbury (1969)
sparkling blue, fox-trotted, gateway, painters' crew, Saturday's Leningradskaya Pravda, the item he had encircled was headlined: "Tamerlane and the Timurids at the Hermitage", embankment, flamboyant comparatives, sweated slum, ripe for agitation, intrigue, revolution, adjoining rooms,
The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner (1929)
book-satchel swinging and jouncing toward her, stooped down, took my overshoes off and unbuttoned my coat, buttoned my coat and we went toward the door,
Note 3
The Great Train Robbery by Michael Crichton (1975)
spring forward, hulking, tattered, blue-uniformed, burly, fast-receding figure, Soon it was gone round a gentle curve.
lingering drifting smoke tat slowly settled over the tracks and the body of the motionless youth
instantly collapsed back to the ground, gave a final convulsive shoulder and lay wholly still
smallish fleet of cabs, croquet equipment, croquet-pronounced "croaky", publican houses, a white scar across his forehead, screevers, plainclothes constable, silver-headed cane, twinged, smoky, consignment, 
seated opposite him, puffing his cigar, waistcoat, gold bullion shipment, wholly impregnable, bullion, ironbound strongboxes, sip his brandy,
The sealed strongboxes are taken by armed guard to the railway station. 
At the station, the strongboxes are loaded into the luggage van of the Folkestone Railway where we place them into two of the latest Chubb safes.
they were on all sides constructed of one-quarter-inch tempered steel. interior hinges.
And he patted his starched shirt front with a flat hand. erected a terminus.
drew plans, moratorium, fury of public debate, 
This was done on a leasing arrangement. South Eastern leased tracks, platforms, and office space from the London & Greenwich line, whose owners were not disposed to give South Eastern any better facilities than necessary.
He added to the box as contains in volume.
page 21
Note 4
The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner (1929)
Caddy knelt and put her arms around me and her cold bright face against mine.
Mother came out, pulling her vein down. She had some flowers. The carriage jolted and crunched on the drive.
said, clutching me, the bright shapes went smooth and steady on both sides, the shadows of them flowing across Queenie's back. They went on like the bright tops of wheels.
She climbed the fence with the letter in her hand and went through the brown, rattling flowers.
smell the clothes flapping, smoke blowing against the branch. 
He hunted in the water, along the bank. They hunted in the branch. Then they all stood up quick and stopped, then they splashed and fought in the branch. Luster got it and they squatted in the water, looking up the hill through the bushes.
page 24
Note 5
Archipelago, Volumes 2-12 (1974)
1973 rice shortage
Above all, a commanding view of the valley and the reservoir when it fills up, and an end to isolation from the rest of Nueva Ecija during the Pampanga River's seasonal floods during the monsoons. 
faces were pressed up against the screen.
antique shops' shelves of santos, or religious images
June 17, 2025
Note 1
The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone (1961)
sweat-dribbled face, dribbled into the church, encampment, beveled building stones, Now when it rained he scooped up his velvet covering from the folding table, grabbed his bag of coins from between his feet and ran through the wet streets to his friend, Amatore the cloth cutter, who allowed him to set up his table under cover,
He started raining blows on the bow, his right elbow crooked stiffly so that he could use his arm as a club. Francesco also began hitting the boy, boxing his ear with the heel of his palm.
He lowered his head as dumb beasts do in the storm. 
From the corner of his eye, he saw his aunt Casandra bulking in the doorway.
altarpiece
page 22
Note 2
Alaska by James A. Michener (1988)
faltered, whipping wind, edging her family toward the alder thickets, muddy crevice, water birds that prowled the shore, monsters poured from the immense nest, mud hut that faced the sunrise, in one big room excavated a few feet below the level of the surrounding earth, howling winds, loosely woven branches plastered with mud, cave-hut, half-wet logs, smoke which lent flavor to what they ate and endless irritation to their eyes, indissoluble, fastened his attention upon a young woman of rare attractiveness, gathering moss and searching for antlers to pulverize, searched the land for the merest scrap for their two sons, eleven seasons old, agencies of control, superior forms of civilization, people along the edges being forced to live on cold and arid lands which could barely support them, sun-darkening hordes, hardier breed, took from the sealskin tunic she wore in winter a piece of dried seal blubber and apportioned it among the children, retaining none for herself, eyes aglimmer, harsh winds, low shrubs, sparse grasses and mosses, predacious, wore such massive pieces of fur clothing that they looked like hulking animals, rumpled black hair drooped low above their eyes,
The five women had different styles of dress, featuring decorating skins with seashells along the hems, but their faces were surprisingly alike. Each was heavily tatooed with vertical blue stripes, some covering their chin, others running the length of the face beside the ears, which were pierced with rings carved from white ivory. When they moved, even the old woman, they did so with determined steps, and as four sleds on which each family's goods would be carried were brought into position, it was these women who grasped the reins and prepared to do the hauling.
The ten children were like a collection of colorful flowers for the clothes they wore were varied in design and color. Some wore short tunics with stripes of white and blue, others long robes and heavy boots, but all wore in their hair some ornament, some flashing bit of shell or ivory.
sinews, long-handled cooking spoons of ivory, shrubs along its banks, 
page 48
All the King's Men by Robert Penn Warren (1946)
a patch of grass roots, grind and whir of the springs and cogs, dusky-dark hallway, red, slick-skinned long faces, or the brown, crinkled faces, marble-topped tables with wirework legs, rub knees under the table and the wirework would always get in the way, 
you knew he was a city-hall slob long before you could see the whites of his eyes. He had the belly and he sweated through his shirt just above the belt buckle, and he had the face, which was creamed and curded like a crow patty in a spring pasture, only it was the color of biscuit dough, and in the middle was his grin with the gold teeth. He was Tax Assessor, and he wore a flat hard straw hat on the back of his head. There was a striped band on the hat.
haw-haw of camaraderie, trails of damp sawdust the old broom, 
So I sat there in the silence (Duffy was never talkative in the morning before he had worried down two or three drinks), and listened to my tissues break down and the beads of perspiration explode delicately out of the ducts embedded in the ample flesh of my companion.
Fate comes walking through the door, and it is five feet eleven inches tall and heavyish in the chest and shortish in the leg and is wearing a seven-fifty seersucker suit which is too long in the pants so the cuffs crumple down over the high black shoes, which could do with a polishing, and a stiff high collar like a Sunday-school superintended and a blue-stripped tie which you know his wife gave him last Christmas and which he had kept in tissue paper with the holly card ("Merry Xmas to my Darling Willie from your Loving Wife") until he got ready to go up to the city, and a gray felt hat with the sweat stains showing through the band. It comes in just like that, and how are you to know? It comes in, trailing behind Alex Michel, who is, or was before the piano player got him, six-feet-two of beautifully articulated bone and gristle with a hard, bony, baked-looking face and two little quick brown eyes which don't belong above that classic torso and in that face and which keep fidgeting around like a brace of Mexican jumping beans. So Fate trails modestly along behind Alex Michel, who apporaches the table with an air of command which would deceive no one.
slapped me on the shoulder with a palm that was tough enough to crack a black walnut. who extended a hand without rising.
Alex jerked a thumb toward his trailing companion. Alex whickered like a stallion and nudged the teacher's pet in the ribs.
bowed to the blast and stood there with the old gray felt hat in his hand, with the sweat showing around the band outside where it had soaked through. Willie's large face, above the stiff country collar, didn't show a thing.
I contributed only a grin which felt sickly on my face, and Willie was a blank.
Note 3
The 900 Days: Siege of Leningrad by Harrison E. Salisbury (1969)
rambling wooden porch, soft air and pale light attracted scores of young couples to the linden alleys and stately parks surrounding Rastrelli's exquisite Catherine Palace.
squat buildings, open windows, haunting sounds of a Skryabin sonata, a nest of creative artists, sat down at his desk, correcting proofs of a long historical novel, 
old villa, now a writer's rest home, dark, handsome, intense and as yet unmarried, finished his novel and sent it off to the publisher, old Mannerheim fortified line across Karllia whic had lain in Soviet hands since the winter war.
Special buses would leave promptly at 7:30 A.M., June 24.
Sayanov, a middle-aged poet with a round face and gold-rimmed spectacles, walked a bit with his friend before turning back to go to bed.
quiet but lighted by a refracted luminosity which flattened the colors, melted out the shadows and washed the great stone buildings with eggshell tints. From a distance came the sound of young voices. They were singing a popular Soviet song.
The chant rose clear and fresh, and down the street appeared a band of students, the girls' dresses white against the darkness of the pavement, the boys in light shirts and navy-blue trouseres. Their arms were linked and they slowly walked, singing with a beauty that was rare and unearthly.
slim young boy, spray of jasmine from an overhanging limb. The boy and girl came up to the Kamenny Ostrov Bridge over the Malaya Neva River. The draw was raised and they waited at the embankment, the girl shivering in the coolness of the night. When the boy tried to put his arm around her, she pulled away willfully and said: "One thing I would never be so stupid as to do is to marry you!"
Finally, the drawbridge was let down. The boy and girl silently crossed over, the girl still holding the sprig of jasmine. They parted at the corner; then the girl called back: "Fedya!"
The young couple vanished. Now the avenue stretched empty and quiet. Leningrad was sleeping through the night that was no night... the longest of the white nights.
Hours after hour he stood looking out the window of his polished-mahogany compartment with its heavy brass fittings, its Brussels carpet, its French plumbing.
searchlight of the Red Arrow's locomotive cut through the dusk and, then, as the train hurtled down the straight course laid out by the engineers of Czar Nicholas I, the horizon slowly lightened.
June 18, 2025
Note 1
The Fist of God by Frederick Forsyth (1994)
hefted onto his shoulder, fumbling for his keys, trenchcoat, lavatorial, dark-jowled, self-locking plate glass swing closed behind him, jangling his keys, russet-brown carpet, key into the lock of his apartment door, lift-well which jutted into the dimly lit lobby.
He came quietly round the lift-shaft holding his silenced 7.65-mm Beretta automatic, which was wrapped in a plastic bag to prevent the ejected cartridged spilling all over the carpet.
Five shots, fired from less than a metre range, all into the back of the head and neck.
big, burly man slumped forward against his door and slithered to the carpet.
latterly armorer, wayward genius, swarthy East Mediterranean appearance
officers seized on the docks of Middlesbrough eight sections of huge steel pipes, beautifully forged and milled and able to be assembled by giant flanges at each end, drilled to take powerful nuts and bolts
tubes were not for a petrochemical plant as specified on the bills of lading and the export certificates but were parts of a great gun barrel designed by Gerry Bull and destined for Iraq. The farce of the Supergun was born.
double-dealing, stealthy paws of several Intelligence agencies, a mass of bureaucratic ineptitude and some political chicanery
grid-locked, to burrow a way out of Marion Penitentiary with a blunt teaspoon, 
cornucopia of inside information, katsa, 
the tiny nipple of the payload, 
system of springs and valves,
straddling the border of North Vermont and his native Canada
universal 155-mm howitzer field gun, field battle = long range is king, sit back and blow the enemy away while remaining inviolate, 
full-bore extended-range shell, 155-calibre field gun itself, rocket-assisted shells, 
GC-45 cannon, sold under world licence by Voest-Alpine, towed howitzer called the G-5 from his GC-45 and a self-propelled cannon, the G6. Both had a range with extended shells of forty kilometers.
battle of Fao, poison gas in the shells,
page 25
Note 2
Dirt Music by Tim Winton (2001)
traipsed, footsore, pokies, welter, snatched up the mug and recoiled as her lips met the cold sarcoma that had formed on the coffee's surface. moony sea, eight-seater dining table, whole seaward wall, slugged the vodka down at a gulp. stewing seagrass, of brine and limey sand, of thawing bait and the savoury tang of saltbush. The outdoor furniture beaded with dew. scalloped hems of the Perrier brolly, bow rails, biminis, and windscreens. mooring buoys into fitful, flickering stars. sea was dark and blank, cold slate, childhood dose of codliver oil, sea air misted on her skin, chill burned her scalp, stockinged feet, sniff the Jeddah air, whiff of pure sea breeze, high perimeter wall, bog-standard homesickness, sniffing for was the highball mix you imbibed every night of your riverside Perth childhood, the strange briny effervescence of the sea tide stirring in the Swan River, into its coves, across the stuarine flats. Miasma of the corniche, the exhaust of Cadillacs and half a million aircon units blasting Freon at the Red Sea.
Note 3
All the King's Men by Robert Penn Warren (1946)
blackstrap molasses, corn blades, narrow-gauge tracks got covered with grass, kindling wood, broadcloth, gullies eat deeper into the red clay, eaves of the veranda, gangly craning look a kid's head has, debouched, girl ladling up ice cream, garter belt, hips pumping hell-for-leather under the lettuce-green smock, plunging through the crowd from the back of the store. 
strong-set man, the pouches under the eyes and the jowls beginning to sag off, and the meaty lips, which didn't sag but if you looked close were laid one on top of the other like a couple of bricks, and the tousle of hair hanging down on the not so very high squarish forehead.
a tall, gaunt-shanked, malarial, leather-faced side of jerked venison, wearing jean peants and a brace of mustaches hanging off the kind of face you see in photographs of General Forrest's calvarymen. And the boss started toward him and put out his head. He shuffled one of his broken brogans on the tiles, and his Adam's apple jerked once or twice, and the eyes were watchful out of that face which resembled the seat of an old saddle left out in the weather, but when the Boss got close, his hand came up from the elbow, as though it didn't belong to Old Leather-Face but was operating on its own, and the Boss took it.
in the dazzle,
June 23, 2025
Note 1
Alaska by James A. Michener (1988)
small fish huddled along their banks, pitched their sleds against the wind that night, the runners worn from having no slow to glide upon, huddled in the bare lee of their sheds on the third night, food in our bellies, chewing until teeth met on only nothingness, thus savoring each morsel as it vanished down their throat, in midafternoon of the sixth day, a river appeared, with reassuring shrubs along its banks, low tent, in the growing darkness, 
he plunged into the river, swam across, and went well inland before heading east, 
swimming back across the river, he took his stance beside some trees, and now if the mammoths sought to flee eastward, they would have to run over him.
staggered about, 
Just as the sun appeared, the mammoths sighted them, and begun to move eastward, as Varnak had anticipated, but they did not get far, because when they approached him, he daringly ran at them, brandishing his club in one hand, his spear in the other, and this so confused the old monarch that she turned back, seeking to lead her troop westward, but now two other Chukchi men dashed at her, until, in despair, she headed due north, ignoring spears and clubs and taking her companions with her.
aspen tree, jabbed deep.
He jabbed his finger into the air.
The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone (1961)
incense-heavy, ogive arches, rustic brick, 
Tears burned, and then overflooded his eyes.
interlarded, florin, scudo, frescoed, heavy coat of intonaco, pounced, billowing gown, carrying matrons, elaborate, cross-beamed ceiling, richly carved wooden bedboards, elaborately robed with the richest of Florentine silks and jewels, high-backed bed, bed-bench, weaving his way through, mettalic luster, worshipping Florentines in their short velvet farsetti, doublets, voluminous cloaks of camlet trimmed in miniver, and high-crowned hats.
cool barble steps, everyday in Florence was a fair, 
The Florentine girls were blond, slender, they carried their heads high, wore colorful coverings on their hair and long-sleeved gowns, high-necked, with overlapping skirts pleated and full, their breasts outlined in filmier fabric and color. The older men were in somber cloaks, but the young men of the prominent families created the great splash between the Duomo steps and the Baptistery by waering their calzoni with each leg dyed differently and patterned according to the family blazon. Their suite of attendants followed in identital dress.
stood against the jagged tan brick face of the cathedral.
with the sinking sun setting the domes of the Baptisery and cathedral on fire.
spots of color on his usually pale cheeks,
cast a pall
a pall of 
a dark cloud or covering of smoke, dust, or similar matter:
"a pall of black smoke hung over the quarry"
War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy (1867)
But before Pierre could decide what answer he would send, the countess herself in a white satin dressing gown embroidered with silver and with simply dressed hair (two immense plaits twice round her lovely head like a coronet) entered the room, calm and majestic, except that there was a wrathful wrinkle on her rather prominent marble brow. 
old prince, in a dressing gown and a white nightcap
purple velvet gown with a high collar
Hélène’s dazzling bare shoulders which emerged from a dark, gold-embroidered, gauze gown,
illuminated garden
But the Emperor and Balashëv passed out into the illuminated garden without noticing Arakchéev who, holding his sword and glancing wrathfully around, followed some twenty paces behind them.
Countess Potocka who, he thought, had gone out onto the veranda, and glided over the parquet to the door opening into the garden
They were moving toward the door. Borís, fluttering as if he had not had time to withdraw, respectfully pressed close to the doorpost with bowed head.
The sun was only just appearing from behind the clouds, the air was fresh and dewy. A herd of cattle was being driven along the road from the village, and over the fields the larks rose trilling, one after another, like bubbles rising in water.
handsome sleek gray horse, accompanied by two hussars
a black horse with trappings that glittered in the sun
a tall man with plumes in his hat and black hair curling down to his shoulders
He wore a red mantle, and stretched his long legs forward in French fashion. This man rode toward Balashëv at a gallop, his plumes flowing and his gems and gold lace glittering in the bright June sunshine.
The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone (1961)
cool marble steps, cobbled streets,
he sprang out of bed, slipped into his loincloth brache, short drawers, shirt and sandals, and left the house.
the streets freshly washed and the stoops scrubbed. open-sided gallery, his eyes sought the outline of the Nino Pisano sarcophagus, held up by its four carved allegorical figures.
its green banks covered with trees and luxuriants vegetation. a little cluster of houses at what had been a Russian ford.
made his way up the slope toward Settignano.
the red poppies in the growing green wheat, the stands of almost black cypresses, 
On seeing the Russian general he threw back his head, with its long hair curling to his shoulders, in a majestically royal manner
distant peaks, rolling ridges, villas, trees, stone terraces, planted vineyards and olive orchards in haromny with the hills, haycocks, circular, oblong, umbrella, tent.
He climbed the cart road into the hills, closed in by the walls that are the buttress of the Tuscan's life, standing as much as thirteen feet high to hold the descending slopes, and built to last a hundred generations. Stone was the dominant factor. with it he built his farms and villas, enclosed his fields, terraced his slopes to retain his soi. Nature has been bountiful with stone; every hill was an undeveloped quarry. If the Tuscan screatched deep with his fingernail he struck buiding materials sufficient for a city. And when he built of dry rock, his walls stood as though masoned.
"The skill with which men handle stone tells how civilized they are."
he climbed through land of which he knew every jutting boulder and tree and furrow.
His upward push brought him to the settlement of Settignano, a dozen houses collected around a gray stone church.
It was only two miles from the city, on the first rise above the valley floor, and an easy haul to town.
surrounding hills.
tiny settlement, dozen stoneyards scattered among the poderi or farms.
marble tombs,
Down the winding road a few hundred yards was the Buonarroti villa in the midst of a five-acre farm, leased to strangers on a long-term agreement.
house hwen two hundred years before by the best Maiano ietra serena, graceful in its austere lines, and with broad porches  overlooking the valley, the river gleaming below like a silversmith's deecoration.
He could remember his mother moving in the rooms, weaving on the broad downstairs porch, kissing him good night in his big corner room overlooking the Buonarroti fields, the creek at the bottom, and the Topolino family of stonemasons on the opposite ridge.
He crossed the back yard and the bone-textured stone walk past the stone cistern with its intricate hatching and crosshatching from which he had taken his first drawing lesson. He then scampered down the hill between the wheat on one side and the ripening grapes on the other, to the deep creek at the bottom, shaded by lush foliage. He slipped out of his shirt, short drawers and sandals and rolled over and over in the cool water, enjoying its wetness on his anxious third body. Then he crouched in the hot sun for a few moments to dry, put on his clothes and climbed refreshed to the opposite ridge.
fluted column, the youngest son beveling a set of steps, one of the older two carving a delicate window frame, the other graining a door panel, the grandfather polishing a column on a pumice wheelstone with thin river sand. Behind them were three arches, and under them scurrying chickens, ducks, pigs.
paving blocks, being jostled in the cart, 
Between the arches hung an oblong piece of pietra serena with examples of the classic treatments of the stone: herringbone, subbia punch-hole, rustic, crosshatch, linear, bevel, centered right angle, receding step: the first alphabet Michelangelo had been given, and still the one he used more comfortably than the lettered alphabet with which he had been taught to read the Bible and Dante.
roughed-out column, a hammer in one hand, a chisel in the other. He liked the heft of them. Stone was concrete, not abstract. 
There was a natural rhythm between the inward and outward movement of his breath and the up-and-down movement of his hammer arm as he slid the chisel across a cutting groove.
The tactile contact with the stone made him feel that the world was right again, and the impact of the blows sent waves of strength up his skinny arms to his shoulders, torso, down through his diaphragm and legs into his feet.
The pietra serena they were working was warm, an alive blue-gray, a reflector of changing lights, refreshing to look at.
"Stone works with you. It reveals itself. But you must strike it right. Stone does not resent the chisel. It is not being violated. Its nature is to change. Each stone has its own character. It must be understood. Handle it carefully, or it will shatter. Never let stone destroy itself.
"Stone gives itself to skill and to love."
In order for it to remain docile it had to be kept warm in sacks, and the sacks kept damp. Heat gave the stone undulations it had in its original mountain home. Ice was its enemy.
cattle, pigs, vines, olives, wheat.
a formless woman who worked the animals and fields as well as the stove and tub
They rode side by side on the high seat behind the two beautiful-faced white oxen. In the fields the olive pickers were mounted on ladders made of slender tree stalks, notched to take the light crossbar branches. Baskets were tied around their waists with rope, flat against the stomach and crotch. They held the branches with their left hand, stripping down the little black olives with a milking movement of the right. Pickers are talkers; two to a tree, they speak their phrases to each other through the branches, for to the contadino not to talk is to be dead a little.
prattle, 
The road, winding along the contour of the range, dipped into a valley and then slowly climbed Mount Ceceri to the quarry. As they rounded the bend of Maiano, Michelangelo saw the gorge in the mountain with its alternating blue and gray serena and iron-stained streaks. The pietra serena had been buried in horizontal layers.
He planted his legs wide, swung his weight from the hips. opened the first crack between the stone nad the ground with an iron bar. moved the stone over the boulders to open ground, then with the help of the quarry-men the block was fulcrumed upward through the open tail of the cart. Michelangelo wiped the sweat fom his face with his shirt. Rain clouds swept down the Arno from the mountains to the north. He bade Topolino good-by.
Warm rain fell on his upturned face. The dark clumps of leaves on the olives were silver green. In the wheat the peasant women were cutting with colored kerchiefs over their hair.
Below him Folerence looked as though someone were sprinkling it with gray powdered dust, blotting out the carpet of red tile roofs. Only the mammal dome of the cathedral stood out, and the straight proud upward trust of the tower of the Signoria, complementary symbols under which Florence flourished and multiplied. He made his way down the mountain, feeling fifteen feet tall.
drawing by candlelight, unshaven, blue beard, hollow cheeks in the flickering light, giving him the appearance of an anchorite, 
Michelangelo went to the side of the platform on which the desk stood majestically in command of its bottega, waited for Ghirlandaio to look up, then asked: "Is something wrong?"
Ghirlandaio rose, raised his hands wearily to breast height, then shook his fingers up and down loosely, as though trying to shed his troubles.
baking sun with his chin resting on his chest, the legs twisted in an angular position, a little knock-kneed,the chest, shoulders and arms of a man who had carried logs and built houses; with a rounded protruding stomach that had absorbed its quantity of food; in its power and reality far outdistancing any of the still-life set figures that Girlandaio had as yet painted for the Tornabuoni choir.
crescent-shaped lunette topping the left side of the choir.
A Tuscan road winding up a mountainside to a white villa,
old women in their blck shawls praying before the Madonnas. The canvas screen has been taken down to let fresh air into the choir. Michelangelo stood irresolutely beneath the scaffolding, unnoticed, then began to walk the long center nave toward the bright sunlight. He turned to take a final look at the scaffolding rising tier upon tier in front of the stained-glass windows, dark now in the slight western light; at the glowing colors of the several completed panels; the Girlandaio artists, tiny figures weaving across the lunette; at the wooden stalls at the base of the choir covered with canvas, the sacks of plaster and sand, the plank table of painting materials, all bathered in a soft glow.
embroidered red mantle, his flowing feathers, and his glittering ornaments
The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner (1929)
brown, rattling flowers
the smoke blowing across the branch, 
looking up the hill through the bushes, 
took off my shoes and rolled up my trousers, slobbering and moaning, squatted down and got her dress wet,
June 24, 2025
Note 1
The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone (1961)
shadows climbing down the scaffolding, fish instead of bistecca, saint floating above the paving stones,
the country people were dozing in their carts as the donkeys and oxen clop-clopped over the stones with their produce for the Old Market
The boy sat before Ghirlandaio, who pulled aside the curtain behind him so that the north light fell on them.
saltpeter, the slightest patch and your paint will be eaten up, Avoid the sand that has been taken from too near the sea. Your lime should be old. I'll show you how to use a trowel to get a full smooth surface. Remember, plaster has to be beaten with the least possible amount of water, to the consistency of butter.
An artist has to be the master of the grubbiest detail of his craft.
connecting outline with red ochre, and, when this had dried, dusted off the charcoal with a feather
seven natural colors, let's start with black,
walnut-sized pieces of pigment, piece of porphyry stone was used as a base, a porphyry pestle to grind with. minimum grindig time was a half hour, no paint was allowed on a Ghirlandaio panel that had been ground hard for less than two hours.
his hands and arms blackened with the pigment, 
real mineral black, black chalk, slag black, little mineral gree, flesh colors mix too parts of the finest sinopia with one part white well-slaked lime.
one hand clutching a sheaf of bills, under his other arm an account book.
hog bristles, white pigs, pound of bristles to a brush, bind them to a large stick like this,
threw his stained arms ceilingward in mock despair, 
the early October air was crisp and lucid, crops were in, wine pressed, olive oil secure in big jars, foliage turned a russet brown to match the warm tan stones, crenalated tower,
pungeance of paint, His hand clamped the brush, He squeezed it between the fingers and the thumb of his left hand.
suggesting a man's bones by the folds of a cloak,
youngsters ragged him mercilessly, cone-shaped mountain crowned by a castle, high-pillowed bier, little black hat, 
the valley of the Arno had the worst winter weather in Taly. The skies overahead were leaden, the cold had a creeping quality that permeated stone and wool and bit at the flesh within.
After the cold came the rain and the cobbled streets were running rivers.
Anything not cobbled was a bog of mud. with her large train of ladies and gentlemen sumptuously gowned by her father
the men sat at a semicircular table facing the flames, crowded together for warmth, their backs cold but their fingers getting enough heat to enable them to work. Santa Maria Novella was even worse. The choir was as icy as an underground cave. Drafts that blew through the church rattled the planks and leather thongs of the scaffolding. It was like trying to paint in the high wind, with one's nostrils breathing ice watter.
the sun's rays had a little warmth in them again. The sun's rays had a little touch of blue.
the skies were powdered with a touch of blue
keyed up, a jaw and an armbone richly bound in silver and gold, from the altar of Santa Maria del Fiore. On the Via Larga, opposite one side of the church, was a gate.
He pushed the gate open.
an enormous oblong garden, with a small building, or casino, in the center; in front, and directly at the end of a straight path, was a pool, a fountain, and on a pedestal a marble statue of a boy removing a thorn from his foot. On the wide porch of the casino a group of young men were working at tables.
All four walls of the garden were open loggias displaying antique marble busts: of the Emperor Hardian, of Scipio, of Emperor Augustus, Agrippina, Nero's mother, and numerous sleeping cupids. There was a straight path leading to the casino, lined with cypresses. Coming from each corner of the quadrangle and centering on the casino were other tree-lined paths curving through green lawns as big as meadows.
toohthed chisels.
His knees sagged.
Grecian urns, vases, the bust of Plato beside the gate.
walked down the gravel path, circled the pool and fountain. Half a dozen men from fifteen to thirty years old were working at board tables. Bertoldo,a figure so slight as to seem all spirit and no body, had his long white hair wrapped in a turban. His red cheeks glowed as he instructed two boys in roughing a piece of marble.
sat on a bench in the Piazaa San Marco with pigions thronging about his feet and the heel of his palm pressing his forehead bruisingly. When he looked up at Granacci his eyes were feverish.
Tears of frustration came to his eyes.
Granacci gazed at the naked longing on his friend's face. 
"Perhaps."
clodhoppers,the flesh tones a sunburned amber, the figure clumsy, with graceless bumpkin muscles; but the face transfused with light as the young lad gazed up at John. Behind him he did two white-bearded assistants to John, with beauty in their faces and a rugged power in their figures. Granacci hovered over him uneasily as the figures emerged.
warm-colored lemon-yellow and rose robes
sundown, damigiana of wine, his scowl blacker than the base of his beard, 
cartoon crowded with figures, 
stood riveted to the planks of the studio floor,
assemblage, sat hunched over the angular corner desk, dwarfed by the fourteen-foot ceiling, 
It took the Florentine sun the better part of spring to permeate the stone.
stone dust, collapsed onto a hard leather chair with a havy plop, tears coming into his eyes, 
long after her candle was out lay open-eyed and motionless, gazing at the moonlight through the frosty windowpanes.
Alaska by James A. Michener (1988)
aboveground huts made of stone and branches, dome above made out of matted branches and skins plastered with mud, 
hung out great curtains of fire, filling the sky with myriad colors of dancing forms and vast spears of light flashing from one horizon to the next in a dazzling display of power and majesty. 
Then men and women would leave their frozen mud of the mean caves to stand in the starry night, their faces to the heavens as those others beyond the horizon moved the light about, hung the colors, and sent great shafts thundering clear above the firmament. There would be silence, and the children who were summoned to see this miracle would remember it all the days of their lives.
bandy-legged, sturdy fellow
pebbled shore fronting the village of Pelek, 
umiak, village larder, watertight sealskin-swen kayak, aspen paddle,
sight a whale surfacing in the distance, black whale riding the surface of the water, its huge tail propelling it forward
cut directly across the whale's path, 
talisman. It was a small circular disk, white and with a diameter of about two narrow fingers. It had been made of ivory from one of the few walruses his father had ever killed, and it has been carved with fine runic figures depicting the ice-filled ocean and the creatures that lived within it, sharing it with the Eskimos
had watched his father carve the disk and smooth the edges so that it would fit properly, and since both realized from the beginning that when finished, this dish was to be something special.
sharp knife made of whalebone, pierced his lower lip, and stuffed the incision with grass. As it healed and the opening grew wider, with larger plugs of wood inserted in each mouth, his lower lip would form a narrow band of skin surrounding and defining a circular hole.
applied herbs to his feet and packed warm rocks against his feet, 
his hair extremely long and matted with a filth that had not been removed in a dozen years,
devoid of birds, devoid of headlands and gulfs and bays, 
stood erect, wedged his knees against the gunwales of the boat, Far behind trailed Oogruk.
with an overhand motion, 
A throwing-stick was a carefully shaped, thin length of wood about two and a half feet long, so devised as to increase considerably the length of a man's arm. The rear end, which contained a kind of slot in which the half of the harpoon rested, snuggled in the crooked elbow of the thrower. The length of the stick ran along the man's arm, extending well beyond his fingertips, and it was against this wood that the harpoon rested. Toward the front end there was a finger rest enabling the man to retain control over both the harpoon and the stick, and close nearby a smoothed place at which the thumb could steady the long harpoon as the man prepared to throw. Steadying himself, the harpooner drew his right arm bearing the stick as far back as possible, checking to ensure that the butt end was secure in its slot. Then, with a wide sweep of his right arm, parallel to the surface of the sea and not up and down as one might expecet, he snapped his arm swiftly forward, released his hold on the nestled harpoon at the precise movement, and, thanks to the doubled length this gave his arm, released the flint-tipped harpoon at the whale with such force that it could drive through the thickest skin. in this intricate method the man slung the harpoon much as little David, twelve thousand years later, would sling his rock against big Goliath. It sometimes requires years of practice before accuracy was obtained, but once the various tricks were synchronized, this slingshot harpoon became a deadly weapon.
Somehow, men with no knowledge of engineering or dynamics deduced that their harpoons would be trebly effective if they were loaded into their atlatls and slung forward instead of being thrown.
that the best way to deliver a harpoon was with a sideways slingshot motion, almost like an awkward child throwing a ball.
On this day the Eskimo leader had calculated perfectly his approch to the target, and from a position a little to the right and close behind the lumbering beast, he planned to flash ahead on an angle which would enable Shaktoolik to strike at a vital spot just behind the right ear and thus provide the two paddlers on the left-hand side an opportunity to unleash their spears also, with the headman remaining available in the stern to plunge his spear somewhat behind the others. Using this maneuver, the four Eskimos on the left-hand side of the umiak would have a chance to wound this enormous creature, perhaps not mortally but certainly deeply enough to render it vulnerable to their subsequent attacks and ultimate victory.
wheeled on its midsection and swung its huge tail viciously.
anticipating the destruction of his umiak if the tail struck, heeled his craft over, but this left the man in front, Shaktoolik with his harpoon, exposed, and the tail swept past, one fluke struck Shaktoolik in the head and shoulders, sweeping him into the sea. Then, in what could have been an accidental blow, the mighty tail smashed down, crushing the harpooner, driving him unconscious deep below the surface of the sea, where he perished. The whale had won the first encounter.
turned adrift, climbed into the umiak, reshuffled the men, in this new configuration, various strategems, pestiferous little creatures, 
silvery dawn,
Toward noon of the second day the headman judged that the whale was tiring and that the time had come to attempt a master thrust, so once more he brought his umiak to a position slightly behind the whale, and again moved forcefully ahead so that his new harpooner would have a clear shot, as would he and the two left-hand rowers.
dereliction, 
moved on, bleeding from its right side,  
the point of the harpoon struck bone and was diverted.
lucky labret,
gathering the whaling lances, holding them aside in one bundle.
feckless,
headway, some distance south of the Arctic Circle, fishing lines, stout poles, ivory hooks, slabs of meat and blubber, 
stayed close to the huts, periodically knocking off the snow that threatened to engulf them, huddling by their meager fire,
superstructures of wood and whalebone and sealskin
spars of wood washed up by the sea, lengths of sinew from the bodies of dead animals
and as he furtively collected these items, a plan evolved.
hairy fellow crouched among his magic pieces, his tattered grments,
page 77
late-evening situation report
June 25, 2025
Note 1
Dirt Music by Tim Winton (2001)
cut-offs, sweat prickle her all over, prow, scald her scalp, fistful of his shirt and drags him inside, 
elastic-sided boots, butterfly swarm of spinnakers, plangent heat, bedhead, aircon hiss receded, Pelicans hung over the freeway like billowing newspapers, scarfed the peanuts, 
knee pants, bugs bang on the tin reflectors and splatter to the pavment to lie stunned,
peeling gold frames, big brass reading lamp,
All the King's Men by Robert Penn Warren (1946)
make a pass at the bottle and sloshed out some whisky into a glass and poured in some water
stuck out his legs on the red carpet, 
looked up at him from the chair,
his white jack on the back of the chair, eyes snap over to it, 
whip his head over at you and his eyes would snap open,
He popped up and his heels dug into the red carpet
The grandfather's clock in the corner of the room, I suddenly realized, wasn't getting any younger. It would drop out a tick, and the tick would land inside his head like a rock dropped in a well, and the ripples would circle out and stop, and the tick would sink down the dark. For a piece of time which was not long or short, and might not even be time, there wouldn't be anything. Then the tock would drop down the well, and the ripples would circle out and finish.
swung his face in my direction
pulled off toward the door, 
I had just about made the door, 
in the dips of the road, the mist frayed out over the slab and blunted the headlights, 
Negritos of Zambales, Vol. 5 by William Allan Reed (1904)
a group passing through a grove of heavy timber with very little underbrush
War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy (1867)
hoar frost, a gleam of bayonets
Among them were grooms leading the Tsar’s beautiful relay horses covered with embroidered cloths.
As when a window is opened a whiff of fresh air from the fields enters a stuffy room
“I am waiting, Your Majesty,” answered Kutúzov, bending forward respectfully.
The Emperor, frowning slightly, bent his ear forward as if he had not quite heard.
“Waiting, Your Majesty,” repeated Kutúzov. (Prince Andrew noted that Kutúzov’s upper lip twitched unnaturally as he said the word “waiting.”) “Not all the columns have formed up yet, Your Majesty.”
In the Emperor’s suite all exchanged rapid looks that expressed dissatisfaction and reproach. “Old though he may be, he should not, he certainly should not, speak like that,” their glances seemed to say.
a roll of volleys of musketry from the slopes of the hill before Pratzen, interrupted by such frequent reports of cannon that sometimes several of them were not separated from one another but merged into a general roar.
He could see puffs of musketry smoke that seemed to chase one another down the hillsides, and clouds of cannon smoke rolling, spreading, and mingling with one another. He could also, by the gleam of bayonets visible through the smoke, make out moving masses of infantry and narrow lines of artillery with green caissons.
A handful of men came galloping toward him. 
pockmarked 
red epaulets
He could see nothing more, for immediately afterwards cannon began firing from somewhere and smoke enveloped everything.
Having passed the Guards and traversed an empty space, Rostóv, to avoid again getting in front of the first line as he had done when the Horse Guards charged, followed the line of reserves, going far round the place where the hottest musket fire and cannonade were heard. 
Russian and Austrian soldiers running in confused crowds across his path.
Several wounded men passed along the road, and words of abuse, screams, and groans mingled in a general hubbub, then the firing died down. 
The highroad on which he had come out was thronged with calèches, carriages of all sorts, and Russian and Austrian soldiers of all arms, some wounded and some not. This whole mass droned and jostled in confusion under the dismal influence of cannon balls flying from the French batteries stationed on the Pratzen Heights.
At last seizing a soldier by his collar he forced him to answer.
How they made the four black horses fly! Gracious me, they did rattle past! 
The Emperor was pale, his cheeks sunken and his eyes hollow, but the charm, the mildness of his features, was all the greater.
After five o’clock it was only at the Augesd Dam that a hot cannonade (delivered by the French alone) was still to be heard from numerous batteries ranged on the slopes of the Pratzen Heights, directed at our retreating forces.
Every ten seconds a cannon ball flew compressing the air around, or a shell burst in the midst of that dense throng, killing some and splashing with blood those near them.
Impelled by the crowd, they had got wedged in at the approach to the dam and, jammed in on all sides, had stopped because a horse in front had fallen under a cannon and the crowd were dragging it out. A cannon ball killed someone behind them, another fell in front and splashed Dólokhov with blood. The crowd, pushing forward desperately, squeezed together, moved a few steps, and again stopped.
Suddenly a cannon ball hissed so low above the crowd that everyone ducked. It flopped into something moist, and the general fell from his horse in a pool of blood. Nobody gave him a look or thought of raising him.
Still the cannon balls continued regularly to whistle and flop onto the ice and into the water and oftenest of all among the crowd that covered the dam, the pond, and the bank.
Above him again was the same lofty sky with clouds that had risen and were floating still higher, and between them gleamed blue infinity. He did not turn his head and did not see those who, judging by the sound of hoofs and voices, had ridden up and stopped near him.
“Fine men!” remarked Napoleon, looking at a dead Russian grenadier, who, with his face buried in the ground and a blackened nape, lay on his stomach with an already stiffened arm flung wide.
https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2600/2600-h/2600-h.htm#link2HCH0001:~:text=Prince%20Andrew%20understood,his%20own%20pity.
The soldiers who had carried Prince Andrew had noticed and taken the little gold icon Princess Mary had hung round her brother’s neck, but seeing the favor the Emperor showed the prisoners, they now hastened to return the holy image.
At last the sleigh bore to the right, drew up at an entrance, and Rostóv saw overhead the old familiar cornice with a bit of plaster broken off, the porch, and the post by the side of the pavement. He sprang out before the sleigh stopped, and ran into the hall.
“Oh God! Is everyone all right?” he thought, stopping for a moment with a sinking heart, and then immediately starting to run along the hall and up the warped steps of the familiar staircase
A solitary tallow candle burned in the anteroom.
plaiting slippers out of cloth selvedges
Prokófy, trembling with excitement, rushed toward the drawing room door, probably in order to announce him, but, changing his mind, came back and stooped to kiss the young man’s shoulder.
“All well?” asked Rostóv, drawing away his arm.
threw off his fur coat and ran on tiptoe through the large dark ballroom
the serfs, men and maids, flocked into the room, exclaiming and oh-ing and ah-ing.
holding him tight by the skirt of his coat, sprang away and pranced up and down in one place like a goat and shrieked piercingly.
All around were loving eyes glistening with tears of joy,
She could not lift her face, but only pressed it to the cold braiding of his hussar’s jacket.
In the room next to their bedroom there was a confusion of sabers, satchels, sabretaches, open portmanteaus, and dirty boots.
A rustle of starched petticoats and the whispering and laughter of girls’ voices came from the adjoining room. The door was opened a crack and there was a glimpse of something blue, of ribbons, black hair, and merry faces. It was Natásha, Sónya, and Pétya, who had come to see whether they were getting up.
The girls sprang aside. Denísov hid his hairy legs under the blanket, looking with a scared face at his comrade for help. The door, having let Pétya in, closed again. A sound of laughter came from behind it.
Sónya, when he came in, was twirling round and was about to expand her dresses into a balloon and sit down. They were dressed alike, in new pale-blue frocks, and were both fresh, rosy, and bright. 
Natásha, taking her brother’s arm, led him into the sitting room,
She pulled up her muslin sleeve and showed him a red scar on her long, slender, delicate arm, high above the elbow on that part that is covered even by a ball dress.
“I burned this to prove my love for her. I just heated a ruler in the fire and pressed it there!”
Curving her arms, Natásha held out her skirts as dancers do, ran back a few steps, turned, cut a caper, brought her little feet sharply together, and made some steps on the very tips of her toes.
extremely pointed toes and small silver spurs
jacket laced with silver
On that third of March, all the rooms in the English Club were filled with a hum of conversation, like the hum of bees swarming in springtime.
The members and guests of the club wandered hither and thither, sat, stood, met, and separated, some in uniform and some in evening dress, and a few here and there with powdered hair and in Russian kaftáns. 
Powdered footmen, in livery with buckled shoes and smart stockings, stood at every door anxiously noting visitors’ every movement in order to offer their services. 
went about in his soft boots between the dining and drawing rooms,
He walked shyly and awkwardly over the parquet floor of the reception room, not knowing what to do with his hands; he was more accustomed to walk over a plowed field under fire, as he had done at the head of the Kursk regiment at Schön Grabern—and he would have found that easier.
committeemen 
a large silver salver
But before he had finished reading, a stentorian major-domo announced that dinner was ready!
The door opened, and from the dining room came the resounding strains of the polonaise:
He winked at the butler, whispered directions to the footmen, and awaited each expected dish with some anxiety.
With the second course, a gigantic sterlet (at sight of which Ilyá Rostóv blushed with self-conscious pleasure), the footmen began popping corks and filling the champagne glasses. 
He was just going to take it when Dólokhov, leaning across, snatched it from his hand and began reading it.
He leaned his whole massive body across the table.
When all was ready, the sabers stuck in the snow to mark the barriers, and the pistols loaded, Nesvítski went up to Pierre.
Next morning when the valet came into the room with his coffee, Pierre was lying asleep on the ottoman with an open book in his hand.
Pierre leaped up from the sofa and rushed staggering toward her.
“I’ll kill you!” he shouted, and seizing the marble top of a table with a strength he had never before felt, he made a step toward her brandishing the slab.
Hélène’s face became terrible, she shrieked and sprang aside. His father’s nature showed itself in Pierre. He felt the fascination and delight of frenzy. He flung down the slab, broke it, and swooping down on her with outstretched hands shouted, “Get out!” in such a terrible voice that the whole house heard it with horror. God knows what he would have done at that moment had Hélène not fled from the room.
She forgot all fear of her father, went up to him, took his hand, and drawing him down put her arm round his thin, scraggy neck.
The princess sank helplessly into an armchair beside her father and wept.
Her eyes were smiling expectantly, her downy lip rose and remained lifted in childlike happiness.
Princess Mary knelt down before her and hid her face in the folds of her sister-in-law’s dress.
Princess Mary had long since put aside her book: she sat silent, her luminous eyes fixed on her nurse’s wrinkled face (every line of which she knew so well), on the lock of gray hair that escaped from under the kerchief, and the loose skin that hung under her chin.
Suddenly a gust of wind beat violently against the casement of the window, from which the double frame had been removed (by order of the prince, one window frame was removed in each room as soon as the larks returned), and, forcing open a loosely closed latch, set the damask curtain flapping and blew out the candle with its chill, snowy draft. Princess Mary shuddered; her nurse, putting down the stocking she was knitting, went to the window and leaning out tried to catch the open casement. The cold wind flapped the ends of her kerchief and her loose locks of gray hair.
Dirt Music by Tim Winton (2001)
wheatlands, veranda, mosquito coils, 
thrum with cicadas, crickets, and birdwings, chirr of frogs,
Boats scuppered at their moorings, shucked off his jeans, 
feels the air chaffing at him, a pair of shorts,
short black shirt and sleeveless blouse, washed-out grin, 
The skirt rides up on her thighs. old vaccination scar high on her arm. A smear of vermillion lipstick brightens the pillowslip.
she could still feel the sun still on it and the sugar sent a ripple through her
The truck rattled and lurched toward the highway.
They swayed and jounced uphill in four-wheel drive along a fenceline between grasstrees and acacia scrub.
They slalomed up the back of a dune and came drifting down onto a hard pan of beach behind a scrubby headland.
Colored lights raining onto the yard amidst all that laughter. Sidling off with the keys to the ambulance.
June 26, 2025
Note 1
All the King's Men by Robert Penn Warren (1946)
CLUMP OF TREES, 
heaved up off the wire, seersucker skirt, chinaberry tree, 
hammock made out of wire and barrel staves, swung between a post and the live oak, bottle into my side pocket, watched the undersides of the oak leaves, dry and grayish and dusty-green, eusty-corroded-looking spots, 
dry, cracking sound, blue serge pants bagging around his underslung behind and with the last rays of the evening sun faibtly glittering on his bald spot among the scrubby patches of hair like bleached lichen.
grassy, starlit sea, posthole, straightened a salt shaker, 
ground mist was starting to show in the low places
gravel sprayed on the undersides of the fenders, 
gusting along the slab, which would be pale in the starlight between the patches of woods and the dark fields where the mist was rising. 
blaze whizzed past and withered on off btween the fgields and the patches of woods,
big black crate ghost down the street and one of them would spit on the concrete and say, "The bastard, he reckins he's somebody,"
maybe a taint of the fishy, sad, sweet smell of the tidelands to it, but fresh nevertheless.
sharp, brittle-looking, age betraying hand showing the painted nails,
The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner (1929)
lowing, chunking into the shadows, hopped way over to the garden,
nuzzled at the wire,
lightning ugs in a bottle, 
bones rounded out of the sitch, where the dark vines were in the black ditch, into the moonlight, like some of the shapes had stopped.
He laced my shoes and put on my cap and we went out.
bullfrog voice, knobnot, parlor window, wet grass, squinch owl, 
pushed the bottle through the lattice, 
long veil like shining wind,
prissy dress, set the glass down, decanter (fill it),  bathrobe, snuggled her head beside mine on the pillow, 
came scuffing along
flower tree by the parlor window, ricklick seeing you, 
jimson weed, His tie as red in the sun, 
went to the fence, looked through the curling flower spaces
sun slanting on the broad grass
the gate, where the girls passed with their booksatchels, 
bright, whirling shapes, 
Alaska by James A. Michener (1988)
sea crossing, driftwood, his arms folded over the rim of the hatch,
seafronts, seacoast, largesse,
moose towered in the air, with antlers bigger than some trees, 
shaggy musk ox,
unskilled at flicking sharp arrow points from cores of flint,
twist of deerskin he wore, consternation, tumbling brook, 
poultice, caribou trousers, sealskin cloak, 
a place half underground, half wood and stone aboves
flintknapper,
page 91 Alaska
The Fist of God by Frederick Forsyth (1994)
needle-pointed towers, kittenish esteem, pillared building, part of a rabbit warren of small rooms whose lack of splendor belies the importance of the operations planned there
glass of single-malt whisky, 
stripped-down, heavily armored long-base Land Rovers over open terrain, and the Amphibians, skilled in canoes, silent-running inflatables and sub-aqua work.
Mike Martin straightened and ran a nut-brown hand through jet-black hair.
forebears, 
British tea-planter at Darjeeling in India.
pink-faced, blond-moustached, pipe in mouth, gun in hand, standing over a shot tiger. Very much the pukka sahib, the Englishman of the Indian Raj.
the wild, ravined countryside teeming with game and tigers, the deep green tea slopes, the climate, the people. And there Susan was born in 1930. The raised her there, an Anglo-Indian girl with Indian playmates.
All British cadets promoted straight to major, they were not supposed to serve under an Indian officer, but Indians could make lieutenant or captain.
drenched Burmese jungles, 
tumbling chestnut hair, hazel eyes and skin lie a European with a permanent golden suntan
four-propeller Argonaut.
crew stop-over, Bara, south of Iraq, where the crew "slipped" while another took over.
BOAC station, 
swarming throngs of brightly colored robes, the sights and smells of the street, the cooking meats by the edge of the Tigris, the myriad little shops selling herbs and spices, gold and jewels—all reminded her of her native India.
short, stocky, pink-skinned and ginger-haired.
a single, lean man in jeans, desert boots, shirt and bomber jacket with a tote bag over one shoulder, a number of those still awake glared at him.
rubbed fingertips over tired eyes, rose and walked to the picture windows. The swath of silver birches that masked his view of the Potomac when they were in full leaf as they were now still lay shrouded in darkness.
catnapping between calls from the President, the National Security Council, the State Department and, so it seemed, just about anyone else who had his number.
oil embargo and the trade blockade?
The sattelites, KH-11 and KH-12, were rolling over Iraq every few minutes taking happy snaps of everything in the entire country. poison gas factory, nuclear facility, bicycle workshop.
boffins, 
Hidden away, stashed deep underground?
before electronic gizmos took over the business of Intelligence-gathering
About the same time the Latvian steamer Gaisma, en route to Germany with a cargo of wood, was torpedoed in an attack by four German cutters off the Swedish island of Gotland.
The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone (1961)
"A teacher is like a cook; give him a stringy chicken or a tough piece of veal, and not even his most delicious sauce can make it tender."
mynah bird
Featherstonhaugh's Excursion Through the Slave States
The rocks, composed of talcose slate, greenstone, hornblendic and other very ancient slaty materials, jut over, in bold ledges, from the lofty and craggy sides of the valley. To the left the mountain is covered in forest-trees growing amidst the crags, and beneath runs the pretty river murmuring through the glen, in which the rifle-manufactories of the government of the United States are situated, the wheels of which were creaking at this early hour, a pleasing proof of the industry that prevails here.
The road was very rough and knobby, occasioned by the cropping out of the edges of the limestone strata, over which we were traveling at right angles, and which dipped very rapidly to the east.
we came abreast of what is called the Massonetto mountain
June 27, 2025
Note 1
Dirt Music by Tim Winton (2001)
His shadow fell across the water.
bound down, retreat to the shadow of the riverbank whose open veins (try vines) are ropy with shadow. They pull his cheek to the soil.
light across the farm but behind hiim it's dirty dim
Shadows flit across the sandbar.
One stoops at the water's edge
scrambles up the bank toward the house
limped up the steps like a flogged animal,
lacerated, sunburnt, crusty with salt and dirt, his lips split, his eyes red above bruises of exhaustion
hair full of grass seeds and cobwebs, his flayed thighs and feet,
it made her eyes sting with tears,
...he had hiccups. He tried to smile but they sounded painful, sob-like
painted him with antiseptic cream and rubbed oil into his sunburn.
petal-like eyelids, marbled with capillaries like those of a child.
thought of herself a couple of days ago sprawled on this bed, languid as a duchess. With his hand in her, warm and startling.
She stooped and took his hand. Held it to her cheek. Listened to the night beyond the insect screen.
winy sea, creekmud, glanced by slick bodies, curtains spill against the dado wall, 
grubby envelope protrudes
sticks to his damp fingers.
craggy frown, rainy granite coast 
He turns the light out and goes back to bed but he doesn't sleep.
hank of toilet paper 
a few gulls skirled in Beaver's forecoat lights 
modest box of chattels,
hoary cheek, and 
July 3, 2025
Note 1
The Naturalist on the River Amazons by Henry Walter Bates (1863)
busy pens, furnished, 
I embarked at Liverpool, in a small trading vessel.
pilot-station, 
It is a small village, formerly a missionary settlement of the Jesuits, situated a few miles to the eastward of the Para river.
Here the ship anchored.
gazed on the land, bare sand-hills and scattered trees, 
a long line of forest, rising apparently out of the water,
a densely-packed mass of tall trees, broken into groups, and finally into single trees as it dwindled away in the distance
the great primaeval forest characteristic of the region, 
Towards evening we passed Vigia and Colares, two fishing villages, and saw many native canoes, which seemed like toys beneath the lofty walls of dirty forest.
the lofty walls of dark forest, 
Note 2
The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone (1961)
unloading his cart, roughhewn young contadino, clodhoppers, sunburned amber, white-bearded assistants, a rugged power in their figures, 
warm-colored lemon-yellow and rose robes
never got stone dust in their lungs, woodchoppers, 
snow-white hair, red-cheeked face and pale-blue eyes
wren, elaborately gowned in silk and pearls, 
homely details of cooking, 
a roughhewn face that appeared to have been carved out of dark mountain rock, 
muddy skin, a jutting jaw, lower lip which protruded beyond the upper, a turned-up nose, the up-tilting end of which bulked larger than the bony bridge; large dark eyes, cheeks showing dark hollows beyond the corners of the mouth; and a mass of dark hair parted in the center, then combed down to the middle of each eyebrow. He was dressed in a long sienna-colored robe, with purple sleeves, the tip of a white collar showing at the neck. He was just medium height, with a sturdy physique which he kept in condition by days of hard riding, and hawking.
Bert's Treatise of Hawks and Hawking by Edmund Bert (1619)
They are at first to be put upon a little clean straw, in a large hamber, firmly fixed upon its side, about breast high, on the branches of a tree, in a retired situation. The lid of the hamber may be so supported as to serve as a sort of platform for the young birds to come out upon, when they are fed.
Twice a day with fresh raw beef, the skin and fat of which to be carefully removed
shelter them from the rain
Pigeons, rooks, or any other birds just killed should be given to them occasionally.
By this treatment, they will soon learn to know the voice or whistle of the falconer.
Unaffiliated:
sun beating down, dusty expanse, report scrawled on a scrap of hide, 
footed the distance around the long way, 
footed the twenty leagues through the Whispering Woods and came back with a report for the king.
Looking eastward still.
Soviet-supported nations and insurgencies are increasingly clustered in areas of critical importance to the survival of the United States.
from thence to
from thence I went to
Journal of Horticulture, Cottage Gardener, and Country Gentleman (1909)
They are planted in regular rows, and poles set for them to run upon. When the poles are covered to the top,
hop-gardens, scaly flowering heads, 
An Excursion from London to Dover, Vol. 2 by Jane Gardiner (1806)
When the hops have been picked and dried in the oast, or tin floor, they are so brittle that they would break to pieces and be spoiled if they were immediately to be put up.
thereabouts
packthread
tassel, 
The Gardeners Dictionary, Vol. 1 by Philip Miller (1835)
flitches, the flesh sprinkled with salt, and laid in a tray, that the blood may drain off: then it is to be salted a little, and rolled up as hard as possible. The length of the collar of brawn, should be as much as one side of the bear will bear; so that when rolled up, it may be nine or ten inches diameter.
mulberry-tree, 
first, finest, and strongest cods are kept for the grain,
yellow, orange color, sea-green, some of a flesh-color, others of a sulphur, and some white.
A Dialogue Between a Lady and Her Pupils by Mrs. Brook (1808)
The whole is then stirred briskly about with birchen rods, in the shape of brushes; and when the heat and agitation have loosened the ends of the silk, they are apt to catch at the rods; they are then drawn out and joined ten, twelve, or fourteen together, and formed into threads, according to the size required by the work for which they are designed.
bobbins,
fastened to an arm of it.
He fastened his gaze to her.
scissars, 
The Complete Dictionary of Arts and Sciences, Vol. 3 (1766)
Two workmen will spin and reel three pounds of silk in a day.
throwsters, worked with a shuttle on a loom
lustrings and taffetas
figured or striped silk,
An Excursion from London to Dover, Vol. 2 by Jane Gardiner (1806)
gave rise to a variety of censorious remarks,
she indulged the vein of that humourous wit to which she was so naturally prone.
prolix for me to describe, 
proverbially licentious,
Mr. A— also informed us, that Richard Boyle, an eminent English Statesman, distinguished by the title of the Great Earl of Cork, was born at Canterbury in 1566, and died in 1643; having spent the last as she did the first years of his life, in the support of the crown of English against Irish rebels, and in the service of his country.
And binds the golden sheaves in brittle bands
The rising rivers float the nether ground.
And rocks the bellowing voice of boiling seas rebound.
The wind redouble, and the rains augment
The waves on heaps are dashed against the shore.
And now the woods and now the billows roar.
botanizing, playing on the flageolet, small portable library of chosen books in three languages, 
We left Canterbury very early that we might see all the beauty of the morning.
The dewy grass sparkled like crystal. every object in nature was animated.
The wild brooke babbling down the mountain's side, 
The lowing herd, the sheep-fold's simple bell;
hum of bees, the linnet's lay of love,
And the full choir that wakes the universal grove,
cottage curs at early pilgrims bark
Crown'd with her pail the tripping milk-maid sings
The whistling plowman stalks afield;
Down the rough slope the ponderous waggon rings;
Throu' rustling corn the hare astonish'd springs,
partridge bursts away on whirring wings
Birds whirred along the byways.
She tripped up the terrace steps. She tripped from Oma City to Olo City.
stately range of barracks, where a number of troops are stationed.
We then passed through Sturry, two miles north east from Canterburry
the river Stour, running close by the house, has at that place a neat stone bridge of three arches over it.
Opposite the mansion, and across the public road, stands a water-mill for grinding corn, which, by the noisy circulation of the wheels,
tapering spire, 
ran across the lane to a corn field, pulled violently, and drew up a root that had seven stalks growing from it.
for the most part, no sooner, Some seed, indeed, is...
Care must afterwards be taken...
but besides that, nothing more can be done. It is left for the rain to water, and the sun to ripen it.
fresh-colored boys, rencontre,
He next pointed out to them two large flat stones, shut up in a kind of box.
understone is fixed, but the upper one turns rond, and presses so heavily upon it, as to bruise and grind the corn to powder,
To do that, there is a contrivance called a boulting engine, and you may look at it if you step this way.
Man. Mansfield then opened a little door in the large wooden box, or bin, that contained the engine.
At the door sit two healthy looking girls
grist, 
gentle eminences,
and at length empties itself into the sea at the distance of about seven miles.
On the northern side of the house, the ground is appropriated to useful gardens, an orchard, and a shrubbery.
the intermingling branches of woodbine and jasmine are formed into an arbour; and, while they afford an agreeable shade, dispense a most grateful odour.
meadow-greens, corn-fields, woods of various greens, combine to render the prospect infinitely beautiful.
the tall elm rears its lofty head erect and stately; while the foliage of an humbler growth decorates the lovely landscape with the utmost luxuriance, and enriches the view with a thousand different shades.
we are transported to distant regions, where the enervated Indian faints beneath the scorching rays of a meridian sun
Mrs. Belton, always mistrustful and suspicious, instantly glided downstairs, and on tip-toe listened behind the door, and heard every word.
fine specimens of minilite, wood stone, and chalcedony
obtained the gren jade, or axe-stone, for ornaments and weapons of war.
The whole body of the shell is pearly white, with an orchreous tinge towards the upper part of the largely dentated keels, which, two in number, are there of a dark umber color.
whence the steam and smoke ascended in dense clouds
procumbent compositaceous plnat,
small shrubby succulent-stemmed plant, with fleshy leaves,
under a high cliff of white clay. The cliffs here, are composed of a bluish indurated clay, and conglomerate, and abound with marine fossils.
the plants being planted in quincunx order, and the grund strewed with white sand,  with which the large pendulous dark-green and shield-shaped leaves of the young plants beautifully contrasted.
Small screens, formed of the young branches of Leptospermum scoparium, to shelter the young plants from the violence of the northerly and easterly winds, intersected the ground in every direction.
On these shores, the clayey rocks had been so acted upon by the sea, as to be worn quite flat.
thick and evergreen rampart between the sea breeze and the main land, their roots and trunks being often laved with the flowing tide.
The wood of this tree is exceedingly hard, close grained, and heavy; and is much in request for knees in ship and boat building.
It in variably inhabits the immediate sea-shore, often grotesquely hanging in an almost pendant manner from rocky cliffs and headlands, and, although of irregular growth, attains a large size. Here, in a clayey rock near high-water mark, the natives shew the impression of the foot of Rongokako, one of their illustrious progenitors; the print of his other foot, made in striding hence, being near Poverty Bay, a distance of more than fifty miles!
I discovered, on a little sandy plain, a species of Veronica, a rambling shrub with large oblong leaves, which to me was quite new.
I did not, as on my former visit, go round the cape (a bold and high promontory composed of indurated clay, reclining back in solemn grandeur, on the face of which, from the continual descent of debris from its summit and sides nothing grows), it being nearly high-water; but, striking inland through a narrow sandy defile, emerged beyond it to the beach.
Here, however, on the side of a very steep hill, open to the South Pacific, which rolled its immeasurable billows to our feet, both shelter and food were anything but obtainable.
spoke in a deeply resonant voice, 
talking to him from the adjoining worktable, 
on an hour's notice, dark dank dungeons,
The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone (1961)
dressed in a long-sleeved gown of rose-colored wool, a gamurra with its full skirt falling in soft, loose pleats, and a tight-laced bodice under which she wore a pale yellow blouse with a high rounded neck. Her slippers were of brocaded yellow and on her thick dark hair was a rose satin cap encrusted in pearls. She was so pale that not even the rose-colored cap and gown could throw color into her thin cheeks.
pecked at her leathery cheek, hunched-over shoulders
searched his friend's features, puzzled.
cold clammy clay
hogshead,
Live models were drawn from every quarter of Florence, provided through Lorenzo: scholars in black velvet; soldiers with bullencks, square heads and thick arching eyebrows; swashbuckling toughs; contadini off their carts; bald-headed old men with hooked noses and nutcracker chins; monks in black coats, black caps with their flaps turned up over their gray hair; the gay blades of Florence, handsome, with Greek noses running straight from the brow, curly hair worn low on their necks, round empty eyes; the wool dyers with stained arms; the callused ironmonges; the burly poters; plump house servants; nobles in red and white silk hemmed with pearls; slender boys in violet; chubby children to serve as models for putti.
neighboring places, 
Eight Cousins by Louisa May Alcott (1874)
portraits of solemn old gentlemen in wigs, severe-nosed ladies in top-heavy caps,little bob-tailed coats or short-waisted frocks
fitful spring rain that pattered on the window-pane
draggle-tailed chicken under a burdock leaf
The girl wiped her hands, crossed her feet on the little island of carpet where she was stranded in a sea of soap-suds, and then, sure enough, out of her slender throat came the swallow's twitter, the robin's whistle, the blue-jay's call, the thrush's song, the wood-dove's coo, and many another familiar note, all ending as before with the musical ecstacy of a bobolink singing and swinging among the meadow grass on a bright June day.
who had taken a sudden fancy to this girl, who sung like a bird and worked like a woman.
a girl who wore a silk frock, a daintily frilled apron, a pretty locket, and had her hair tied up with a velvet snood.
tales of found-lings
Phebe stopped rattling her beans from one pan to another,
they rested on the curly head bent down on Rose's knee,
that the heart under the pretty locket ached with its loss, and the dainty apron was used to dry sadder tears than any she had ever shed.
brown calico gown and blue-checked pinafore
who from her elevated perch had caught glimpses of a gay cart of some sort and several ponies with flying manes and tails.
He held out his hand as he spoke, and Rose timidly put her own into a brown paw, which closed over the white morsel and held it as the chief continued his introductions.
Rose hastily retired to the shelter of a big chair and sat there watching the invaders and wondering when her aunt would come and rescue her.
then sheered off with a relieved expression.
Archie came first, and, leaning over the chair-back, observed in a paternal tone,
“I'm glad you've come, cousin, and I hope you'll find the Aunt-hill pretty jolly.”
Mac shook his hair out of his eyes, stumbled over a stool, and asked abruptly,
“No, you won't! We'll fix you,” cried the lads, as one clapped his cap on her head, another tied a rough jacket round her neck by the sleeves, a third neatly smothered her in a carriage blanket, and a fourth threw open the door of the old barouche that stood there, saying with a flourish,
“Plenty of plum-cake, please.”
“Tell Debby to trot out the baked pears.”
lemon-pie, fritters, tarts
When Rose came down, fifteen minutes later, with every curl smoothed and her most beruffled apron on, she found the boys loafing about the long hall, and paused on the half-way landing to take an observation, for till now she had not really examined her new-found cousins.
They were all so characteristically employed that she could not help smiling as she looked. Archie and Charlie, evidently great cronies, were pacing up and down, shoulder to shoulder, whistling “Bonnie Dundee”; Mac was reading in a corner, with his book close to his near-sighted eyes; Dandy was arranging his hair before the oval glass in the hat-stand; Geordie and Will investigating the internal economy of the moon-faced clock; and Jamie lay kicking up his heels on the mat at the foot of the stairs, bent on demanding his sweeties the instant Rose appeared.
handful of sugar-plums
black frock
“When will she have it?” demanded Geordie, bouncing in his seat with impatience.
“Heart alive! what is the boy talking about?” cried the old lady from behind the tall urn, which left little to be seen but the topmost bow of her cap.
“Some people think so, but I shouldn't like to try it,” answered Charlie, laughing so he split his tea.
“Well, dear, how do you like your cousins?” asked Aunt Plenty, as the last pony frisked round the corner and the din died away.
A brown, breezy man, in a blue jacket, with no hat on the curly head, which he shook now and then like a water dog; broad-shouldered, alert in his motions, and with a general air of strength and stability about him which pleased Rose, though she could not explain the feeling of comfort it gave her. She had just said to herself, with a sense of relief, “I guess I shall like him, though he looks as if he made people mind,” when he lifted his eyes to examine the budding horse-chestnut overhead, and saw the eager face peering down at him. He waved his hand to her, nodded, and called out in a bluff, cheery voice,
“How does my girl do this morning?” he asked, taking the little cold hand she gave him in both his big warm ones.
“That we can cure and we will,” said her uncle, with a decided nod that made the curls bob on his head, to that Rose saw the gray ones underneath the brown.
As she spoke, Rose pointed to a little table just inside the window, on which appeared a regiment of bottles.
“Ah, ha! Now we'll see what mischief these blessed women have been at.” And, making a long arm, Dr. Alec set the bottles on the wide railing before him, examined each carefully, smiled over some, frowned over others, and said, as he put down the last: “Now I'll show you the best way to take these messes.” And, as quick as a flash, he sent one after another smashing down into the posy-beds below.
Something in Uncle Alec's face touched Rose to the heart, and when he held out his hand with that anxious troubled look in his eyes, she was moved to put up her innocent lips and seal the contract with a confiding kiss. The strong arm held her close a minute, and she felt the broad chest heave once as if with a great sigh of relief; but not a word was spoken till a tap at the door made both start.
Rose popped her head through the window to say “come in,” while Dr. Alec hastily rubbed the sleeve of his jacket across his eyes and began to whistle again.
Phebe appeared with a cup of coffee.
“That's the drink for my patient. Go bring me a pitcherful, and another cup; I want a draught myself. This won't hurt the honeysuckles, for they have no nerves to speak of.” And, to Rose's great discomfort, the coffee went after the medicine.
And away he went down the water-spout, over the roof, and vanished among the budding honey-suckles below.
“I de-test it!” answered Rose, with all the emphasis which a turned-up nose, a shudder, and a groan could give to the three words.
Rose dared not look up after a while, for these bad boys vented their emotions upon her till she was ready to laugh and cry with mingled amusement and vexation. Charlie winked rapturously at her behind his mother's fan; Mac openly pointed to the tall figure beside her; Jamie stared fixedly over the back of his pew, till Rose thought his round eyes would drop out of his head; George fell over a stool and dropped three books in his excitement; Will drew sailors and Chinamen on his clean cuffs, and displayed them, to Rose's great tribulation; Steve nearly upset the whole party by burning his nose with salts, as he pretended to be overcome by his joy; even dignified Archie disgraced himself by writing in his hymn book, “Isn't he blue and brown?” and passing it politely to Rose.
Rose liked the big, kindly, silent man who came to her when papa died, was always sending her splendid boxes of goodies at school, and often invited her into his great warehouse, full of teas and spices, wines and all sorts of foreign fruits, there to eat and carry away whatever she liked. She had secretly regretted that he was not to be her guardian; but since she had seen Uncle Alec she felt better about it, for she did not particularly admire Aunt Jane.
When church was over, Dr. Alec got into the porch as quickly as possible, and there the young bears had a hug all round, while the sisters shook hands and welcomed him with bright faces and glad hearts. Rose was nearly crushed flat behind a door in that dangerous passage from pew to porch; but Uncle Mac rescued her, and put her into the carriage for safe keeping.
Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë (1847)
One step brought us into the family sitting-room, without any introductory lobby or passage: they call it here “the house” pre-eminently. It includes kitchen and parlour, generally; but I believe at Wuthering Heights the kitchen is forced to retreat altogether into another quarter: at least I distinguished a chatter of tongues, and a clatter of culinary utensils, deep within; and I observed no signs of roasting, boiling, or baking, about the huge fireplace; nor any glitter of copper saucepans and tin cullenders on the walls. One end, indeed, reflected splendidly both light and heat from ranks of immense pewter dishes, interspersed with silver jugs and tankards, towering row after row, on a vast oak dresser, to the very roof. The latter had never been under-drawn: its entire anatomy lay bare to an inquiring eye, except where a frame of wood laden with oatcakes and clusters of legs of beef, mutton, and ham, concealed it. Above the chimney were sundry villainous old guns, and a couple of horse-pistols: and, by way of ornament, three gaudily painted canisters disposed along its ledge. The floor was of smooth, white stone; the chairs, high-backed, primitive structures, painted green: one or two heavy black ones lurking in the shade. In an arch under the dresser reposed a huge, liver-coloured bitch pointer, surrounded by a swarm of squealing puppies; and other dogs haunted other recesses.
long table with its cover of crimson blaize,
July 6, 2025
The Youth's Companion, Vol. 44 (1871)
We all loved her, as she grew older. She was a pretty little blossom as you would want to see, with her eyes as blue as the violets on a south slope in May, and her hair like yellow gold spun into glittering threads. She had a funny little rose-bud of a mouth, too, and the daintiest little figure-well-made all through, and no mistake about it.
come to or reach."several days out of the village, we struck the Gilgit Road"
11.move or proceed vigorously or purposefully.
reach, achieve, or agree to (something involving agreement, balance, or compromise)."the team has struck a deal with a sports marketing agency"
cancel, remove, or cross out with or as if with a pen."strike his name from the list"
produce (fire or a spark) as a result of friction."his iron stick struck sparks from the pavement"
ignite (a match) by rubbing it briskly against an abrasive surface."the match went out and he struck another"
3.(of a thought or idea) come into the mind of (someone) suddenly or unexpectedly."a disturbing thought struck Melissa"
cause (someone) to have a particular impression."it struck him that Marjorie was unusually silent"
find particularly interesting, noticeable, or impressive."Lucy was struck by the ethereal beauty of the scene"
carry out an aggressive or violent action, typically without warning."it was eight months before the murderer struck again"
(of a disaster, disease, or other unwelcome phenomenon) occur suddenly and have harmful or damaging effects on."an earthquake struck the island"
(of a beam or ray of light or heat) fall on (an object or surface)."the light struck her ring, reflecting off the diamond"
accidentally hit (a part of one's body) against something."she fell, striking her head against the side of the boat"
inflict (a blow)."the armies assembled but never struck a blow"
cause (something unpleasant or painful) to be suffered by someone or something."they inflicted serious injuries on three other men"h 
impose something unwelcome on."she is wrong to inflict her beliefs on everyone else"
"he raised his hand, as if to strike me"
struck off at a tearing pace through the woods
And then she sprang by me like some wild creature, and called through the darkness to my father to come with his lantern, quick, quick, for Nelly had been alone in the dark woods for an hour.
Instantly, as it seemed to me, my father and my oldest brother were following mother along the woodlandpath, and I stole after them, feeling like a second Cain.
So I saw them move off, carrying her between them, and I followed after like an outcast, until it occured to me that, at least, I could call a physician. So I flew by them like the wind, and off on the road to town. By some singular good fortune, if we ought not always to say Providence and never fortune, before I had gone forty rods I met Dr. Greene, who was coming in our direction to visit a patient. So I had him with me on the door-stone when they brought Nelly in.
Besides these, I read daily in my pocket Testament
which strewed the sea with wrecks
Miss Nelly of the violet eyes and the spun-gold hair.
hillocks
a turban or the folds of a thick band of muslin around the temples.
His pillow was on his head and a cool fragment of rock made him no mean bolster.
green window-blinds, 
The first was a jeweller's, and she directed my attention to a ruby velvet case, in which laid a gold thimble. It was the loveliest gold thimble I ever saw in my life! Little tiny leaves and flowers were wrought round the rim, and under that the fine metal shone like flakes of sunlight.
Of course I thought so, but I fear there was an ugly feeling in my heart; it might be called envy. I struggled against it, though, but when she took me to the next shop, and displayed another prospective gift, a lace collar, of exquisite design, I quite broke down, and the collars, and fans, and parasols danced about in all directions, through the trembling mist in my poor foolish eyes.
little red pincushion for his vest pocket, and a watch-case
"Nonsense! " I said, but with such a ghost of a little quavering laugh!
Mother and father both noticed that I was more quiet than usual. Sometimes, when I keptshop for father for a few moments, amid the mingled odors of cheese, salt fish and damp sugar, I forgot to give change, and, indeed, my thoughts were strangely perturbed during those eventful days.
Two fresh, crisp bills, each one with the figure 50 staring me in the face !
cunning little envelope,
So on New Year's Eve, when they thought me sound asleep, I crept downstairs with my goods, and ranged them around everywhere. What a sight it was, to be sure! Such a love of a breakfast shawl! A silver thimble in a fine case! A pretty pattern for a dress! Two or three sets of collars and cuffs! A delicate little dress-cap, some gloves, handkerchiefs, and stockings, and the mighty web of snowy cloth!
doorstone
Unaffiliated (playing around with the word "pelt"):
I pelted across the road
the rain was pelting down
he spotted four boys aged about ten pelting stones at ducks
two little boys pelted him with rotten apples
traders brought reindeer pelts
the alsatians, their thick pelts soaked, sniffed around the trees
"I kissed Gillie briefly on the cheek, and ruffled the pelt of Stuart
the raw skin of a sheep or goat, stripped and ready for tanning.
kemps:     a coarse hair or fiber in wool.
Unaffiliated maybe:
India-rubber leather. red-hot stove
to sell lace and ribbon, or corsets and hoop skirts.
reach the top of (something such as a hill or wave)."she crested a hill and saw the valley spread out before her"
US(of a river) rise to its highest level."the river was expected to crest at eight feet above flood stage"
2.(of a wave) form a curling foamy top."the swell begins to curl and crest"3.have attached or affixed at the top."his helmet was crested with a fan of spikes"
The smell of rain on hot asphalt as the car door opens. The gritty texture of the rope biting into their palms as they climb. The distant siren that punctuates the dialogue.
The Vegetable Kingdom Or, The Structure, Classification, and Uses of Plants by John Lindley (1847)
velvet-carpeted bark, 
The bark of ancient trees is carpeted with velvet
branches are hung with a grey-beard tapestry,
the face of rocks is stained with ancient colours
Heaths and moors wave with a tough and wiry herbage, meadows are clothed with an emerald mantle, amidst which spring flowers of all hues and forms, bushes throw abroad their many-fashioned foliage, twiners scramble over and choke them, above all wave the arms of the ancient forest
Lush, soft herbage threw abroad their many-fashioned foliage, while vines crawled, climbed, creeped, wrapping, and threw tendrils.
Before this lie the bones of some fallen giant of the forest, overspread with great tufts of
Close by, some Psychotria expands its large leaves and wide branches. A Heliconia and a Phrynium start from the mud and marshy foreground
The tall tree on the right of Eschweilera, with a smooth bark and pinnated leaves
These and different kinds of Bilbergia have also taken possession of the rotten trunks in the neighbourhood. Near these is the white-barked Cecropia peltata, with large green leaves hoary with down on the under side." The cable-like climbers on the extreme right are not named by Dr. Von Martins
The Youth's Companion, Vol. 44 (1871)
gable window 
rain was dashing against the window
racket 
Then he flung out of the room
But bethink you, if you die, what good will all your possessions do you?
large American steamer at the whar
although he had grown so tall, and stout, and sunburnt, and was in coarse working clothes, instead of the pretty suit of navy blue I last saw him wear.
he color came to his cheek, and he turned his head this way and that, like a stray bird that hears its mother's voice, but he did not see me
becalmed
We had run through the "trades," and had been lying becalmed for several days, when abreeze sprang up that promised soon to take us round the African Continent.
eddying
the mists from the river eddied around the banks
cape pigeon-
though dozens of its companions were eddying around us within the course of the next few days .
A Month in the Country by J.L. Carr (2012)
Then the guard whistled, the train jerked forward a couple of paces—and stopped
Then the engine blew up a splendid plume of steam and shuffled off, a row of faces staring woodenly at me.
The Legend of William Oh by Macronomicon (2024)
the wad of stew-soaked bread
The shop was packed wall-to-wall with others
close-shaved head
and scars near his eyes
hoisting his leather sack of supplies
Together, the two of them followed the path to The Tower, joining asteady stream of men and women marching along underneath thesweltering heat of The Tower
The Vegetable Kingdom Or, The Structure, Classification, and Uses of Plants by John Lindley (1847)
overgrown slab 
velvet-carpeted bark, 
The bark of ancient trees is carpeted with velvet
branches are hung with a grey-beard tapestry,
needlegrass
rapt attention,
July 11, 2025
Note 1
gentle zephyrs breathing through the fragrant pines, inlands and knolls,
Travels Through North and South Carolina by William Bartram (1791)
tenacious cinereous-coloured clay
stately trees of the great
Broom-Pine
checkered
high open forests of stately pines, flowery plains, and extensive green savannas, chequered with the incarnate Chironia pulcherrima, andAfclepias fragrans, perfumed the air whilst they pleased the eye.
endless green savannas, chequered with coppices of fragrant ſhrubs, filled the air with the richest perfume.
The perpetual forest hems the city in on all sides landward
and towards the suburbs, picturesque country houses are seen scattered about, half buried in luxuriant foliag
glossy velvety-green leaves
strongly digitated foliage,
As night came on, many species of frogs and toads in the marshy places joined in the chorus: their croaking and drumming, far louder than anything I had before heard in the same line, being added to the other noises, created an almost deafening din.
The fire-flies were then out in great numbers, flitting about the sombre woods, and even the frequented street
The tract of land is intersected by wellmacadamised suburban roads, the chief of which, the Estrada das Mongubeiras (the Monguba road), about a mile long, is a magnificent avenue of silk-cotton trees (Bombax monguba and B. ceiba), 
huge trees whose trunks taper rapidly from the ground upwards, and 
whose flowers before opening look like red balls studding the branche
The naked branches, the sodden ground matted with dead leaves, the grey mist veiling the surrounding vegetation, and the cool atmosphere soon after sunrise, all combine to remind one of autumnal mornings in England
Negritos of Zambales, Vol. 5 by William Allan Reed (1904)
The more prosperous Negritos in the long-established rancherias have four-posted houses of bamboo, with roof and sides of cogon grass. The floors are 4 feet from the ground and the cooking is done underneath the floors. A small fire is kept burning all night. The inmates of the house sleep just above it, and in this way receive some benefit of the warmth. If it were not for these fires the Negrito would suffer severely from cold during the night, for he possesses no blanket and uses no covering of any sort.
The Naturalist on the River Amazons by Henry Walter Bates (1863)
large glossy heart-shaped leaves,
wings are cream-coloured
the protected under-surface of the leaves
We were amazed at seeing ants an inch and a quarter in length, and stout in proportion, marching in single file through the thickets.
This ant is seen everywhere about the suburbs, marching to and fro in broad column'
My servant told me that they would carry off the whole contents of the two baskets (about two bushels) in the course of the night, if they were not driven off; so we tried to exterminate them by killing them with our wooden clog
What they did with the hard dry grains of mandioca I was never able to ascertain, and cannot even conjecture
baskets out of palm leaf, nito grass, and thick, dried forest vines
A long bench or two, a pillow rack, and a semi-reclining chair,
separate note from grab driver: palaka removed head Pampanga
Pouteria campechiana goes by many names, from Canistel and egg fruit to Tisa, Tiesa, Tiessa, or Chessa
The Youth's Companion, Vol. 44 (1871)
The shark showed over the taffrail, 
dark alleys, and squalid houses,and damp, mouldy cellars, and filthy court-yards. 
bloodshot eyes, matted hair, emaciated faces, shrivelled limbs.
grating doors,
haggard, emaciated, matted hair, pallid face, glaring eyes
Travels Through North and South Carolina by William Bartram (1791)
as a breeze from the river had scattered the clouds of mosquitoes that at first infested me
It being a fine cool morning, and fair wind
They are first produced on, or close to, the shore, in eddy water, where they gradually spread themselves into the river, forming most delightful green plains, several miles in length, and in some places a quarter of a mile in breadth. 
The Annals of the Barber-surgeons of London by Sidney Young (1890)
On Monday before the feast of St. Gregory the will of Richard le Barber, our first Master, was proved in the Court of Husting. To Katherine his wife and Johanna his daughter, he left tenements and rents in Bread Street, Cordwainer Street, Queenhithe, Candlewike Street, and Whitecrouche Street. To Thomas de Mangrave his apprentice, a shop in Bread Street; to the fabric of London Bridge 20s., and the residue to pious uses.
Note 2
re-combined notes:
studded with flowers, enamelled with emerald-green, dotted with, checked with, 
birds edying overhead, fitful spring rain pattering, rain dashing against the window pane, carpeted matted foliage, inlands and knolls, deer and boar, bullcart, 
stout, wide-shouldered, lush and soft herbage, parti-colored frocks, needlegrass, cutting through the field, pelting toward the door, chattering(?) Eurasian tree sparrows,
the dark-gray undersides of urban concrete installments, 
the bank of the river, sandbank, eddy, lagoon, breakwater / sandbar, 
large lance-shaped leaves, 
July 12, 2025
Note 1
Travels in Western Africa by William Gray and Dochard (1825)
swampy hollows, a cluster of wide-spreading trees, down a shady lane, ambles sturdily ahead, land-carriage, earthen or pewter plates, glass window, coarse linen shirt,kitchen-grate, a thicket composed of underwood and cane; a hard yellow clay, intermixed with small quartz pebbles, a large circular mud hut, 
For about two miles the road led us over hilly and broken ground within a few yards of the river side.
rice, pistacios, cassada, and small beans
gently rising hills, covered with wood.
small iron stone gravel, large masses of which rose above the surface in all direction
white cotton cap, coloured silks, worsteds, close shirt of white cotton, short sleeves, long loose sleeves, surplice (descends below the knees), embroidered (about the shoulders and breast), smallclothes, wear their hair cut close, sandals, slippers, complete the catalogue of their wardrobe.
The Naturalist on the River Amazons by Henry Walter Bates (1863)
retired creeks, gloomy pathways of the forest, Brazilian seaport towns
Note 2
Trying to learn use of the term "bathe" with water:
The rain bathed him.
"The warm waters of the Caribbean bathed the sandy shore." (The waves are gently and continuously washing up against the beach)."The river bathes the ancient stone walls of the castle." (The river flows alongside the walls, constantly touching them)."He sat on the dock, letting the cool lake water bathe his feet." (The water is softly flowing over his feet).
"she retired into the bathroom with her toothbrush"
everyone retired early that night"
The Naturalist on the River Amazons by Henry Walter Bates (1863)
retired creeks
gloomy pathways of the forest
Brazilian seaport towns
verdure
Travels in Western Africa by William Gray and Dochard (1825)
It is about fifty yards wide, two feet deep, and runs rapidly to the north, over a rough stony bottom.
The low ground on the borders between the forest wall and the road was encumbered with a tangled mass of bushy and shrubby vegetation, amongst which prickly mimosas were very numerous, covering the other bushes in the* same way as brambles do in England
The light coloured sandy and rocky soil, which, with little variation, we passed over since entering the Foolah country, here changed to a rich dark mould 5 hills on all sides, rising gently one above another, and covered with large clumps of trees, bounded this luxuriant spo
assing some large unconnected lumps of rock of from five to twenty feet perpendicular height
baskets of cane
sanguinary
The vegetable productions are indigo, cotton, rice, maize, yams, cassada, shalots, and pompions; and their fruits are oranges, lemons, plantains, bananas, tamarinds, and nittas, or the locust fruit; the latter is a kind of mimosa, very much resembling the tamarind tree
They are, like all other African females, extremely fond of amber, coral, and glass beads, which they bestow in profiision on their heads, necks, arms, waists, and ancles.
the brig sprung a leak, and nearly carried away her mainmast in a squall
Our horses (one of which died) were reduced to the very last stage of want, having subsisted, for several days, on a little rice and biscuit dust, with a very small quantity of water.
I so far succeeded as to purchase seven horses, and was fortunate enough to meet there fifteen camels 
chiefly engaged in trade, except when the approach of the rains summons them to the corn and rice grounds.
They subsist chiefly on milk, a little corn, which they obtain in exchange for butter when in the vicinity of towns, and such game as they can kill.
Their only furniture consists of a few mats to lie on, some wooden bowls and calabashes, and a few leather bags ; the latter serve them as churns, and to carry water in when encamped at a distance from where it is to be found.
Their dress is very plain, being nothing more than a piece of cotton cloth, about two and a half yards long and three quarters wide, wrapped round the waist, and descending a little below the knees, with another of the same kind thrown over the shoulders. The men wear a cotton cap besmeared with grease, to which is sometimes added, by way of ornament, the end of a cow's tail, died blue or red. Like all other pagans, they are very superstitious, and wear a great number of grigres, or charms, round their necks, arms and legs. They are inordinately fond of red cloth, which they make use of in covering those charms. Their weapons are long spears, bows and arrows, and occasionally a long gun. They are good marksmen with all these, and seldom throw away a shot ; but this arises more from the difficulty they find in obtaining powder, ball, and small shot, than from any dislike to miss their mark
Caravans from the interior frequently stop there, on their way to the settlements on the coast, and dispose of their goods to the masters of some of the small trading vessels from St. Mary's, or to the native merchants, who carry on at tliat place, and the towns lower down the river, a very considerable trade in gold, ivory, and bees' wax ; in exchange for which they receive fire-arms, powder, Indiagoods, coral, amber, glass beads, iron, tobacco, rum, and cutlery.
The dress of these people is far from being inelegant or inconvenient : the men wear on the head a white cotton cap, very neatly worked with different coloured silks or worsteds ; a close shirt of white cotton, with short sleeves, next the skin, covers the body from the neck to the hips, and is surmounted by a very large one of the same materials, with long loose sleeves, not unlike a surplice ; this descends below the knees, and is embroidered, in the same way as the cap, about the shoulders and breast. The smallclothes, which are very roomy above, descend about two inches below the knee, where it is only sufficiently large not to be tight. This part of their dress is generally blue. They wear their hair cut close, and make use of none of the grease or rancid butter of which the JolofF men are so lavish. Sandals or slippers protect their feet from the heat of the sand, and from thorns; and complete the catalogue of their wardrobe.
The dress of the women is neither so decent nor so clean. The body, from the waist upward, is almost always naked, except when enceinte , in which case a sort of short chemise, without sleeves, covers the neck and stomach. They plat their hair neatly into a profusion of small braids, but are so lavish of butter or palm oil on them and their skins (which are generally of a very fine black) that they cannot be approached without experiencing the very unpleasant effects of such anointings, rendered doubly offensive by the addition of profuse and constant perspiration.
The huts and yards of these people are extremely clean, and, although small, are comparatively comfortable. The walls of both are, for the most part, composed of split cane formed into a sort of wicker work resembling hurdles. The roofs of the former are conical, and covered with long dry grass, fastened on with a small line made from the inner bark of the monkeybread tree. On the whole, their houses have a very neat appearance.
The amusements of these people are confined to dancing and music, which take place almost every fine evening at a late hour, in the centre of the village, where, when the moon does not afford them light, a large fire is made for that purpose.
The young of both sexes, dressed in their gayest attire, attend on these occasions ; a ring is formed by them and the spectators, and the former dance in regular succession by pairs. The instrument which accompanies this dance is called a ballafo *, and affords better music than might be expected from such rude materials ; it is composed of cane and wood, in the following manner. A frame, three feet long, eighteen inches wide at one end, and nine at the other, is made of cane, split very thin, and supported at the corners, about nine inches from the ground, by four upright sticks of nearly an inch diameter ; across this frame are laid twenty pieces of hard wood, diminishing in size in the same proportion progressively, from one end to the other, as the frame to which they are slightly attached with thin twine. Under each of these cross pieces, is suspended an empty gourd, of a size adapted to the tone of note required, having a hole in the part where it comes in contact with the stick, and another at the bottom ; the latter is covered with a thin piece of dried sheep's gut.
It is played on with two small sticks, by a man who sits cross legged on the ground, and is accompanied by one or more small drums.
I also observed here a sort of amusement, or rather inquisitorial exhibition, called by the natives Kongcorong. It was thus : a man, covered from head to foot with small boughs of trees, made his appearance in the afternoon near the town, and gave notice to the young women and girls that he would pay them a visit after sunset. At the appointed time he entered the village, preceded by drums, and repaired to the assembly place, where all were collected to meet him with the music and singing. He commenced by saying that he came to caution the ladies to be very circumspect in their conduct towards the whites, meaning the men of the Expedition, and related some circumstances, with which he said he was acquainted, little to their credit : — but, as it was his first time, he would neither mention names, nor inflict the usual punishment, namely, flogging. He, however, would take advantage of the first opportunity which they would be imprudent enough to afford him.
All he said was repeated by the girls in a sort of song, accompanied by the music and clapping of hands. Every one who had any thing to fear from his inquisitorial authority, made him a present j and I observed that not one of the girls withheld this proof of their fear of his tongue, or of their own consciousness of guilt. He remained with them until near midnight.
ocre-coloured clay intermixed here and there with small fragments of ferruginous stone, which, in several places, makes its appearance above the surface in the form of large rocks
one hundred bars in baft, muslin, coral, amber, tobacco, scarlet cloth, and a pair of pistols
vociferous
acceded 
Our means of transport decreased daily ; we had lost since the 2d, one camel, one mule, and four horses, and there was no possibility of procuring any at Kayaye ; the camels left on the road by Bon-ama, had not yet come up, although we had despatched a man to bring them. Every thing, however, being ready, we fixed the 25th for our departure.
We travelled along nearly east at the rate of two miles an hour over a flat country thinly covered with baobabs, tamarinds, rhamnus lotus, and other fruit trees within a short distance of the river ; between us and which lay a low tract of land, annually inundated, where rice is cultivated by the natives when the water retires after the periodical rains
The path, for the most part of the way, was extremely narrow and inconvenient, in consequence of the closeness of the wood, which is low and stunted, the soil being a mixture of dark red sand, and small iron stone gravel, large masses of which rose above the surface in all direction
Coonting is a considerable town, partly surrounded with a mud wall, about six feet high. It is in three divisions, each separated from the other by a clear space of about two hundred yards, in which stand some fine large evergreen trees, in whose shade the natives spend the most part of the day, engaged in conversation, playing a game somewhat resembhng draughts, at which they are very clever, and sleeping, a very general recreation in that country. Here also is held the assembly of the head men and chiefs, when any matter of importance requires their attention. Each of those divisions is governed by a head man, who is under the control of a chief, subject to the king of Katoba, The town is pleasantly situate in an extensive plain, and bears the marks of cultivation to a considerable distance, surrounded on all sides, except the sw., by gently rising hills, covered with wood. The town is plentifully supplied with water of a good quality, from wells nine fathoms deep, at the bottoms of which is a stratum of solid rock
Here... place afforded an abundance of forage and water for the animals, and an opportunity of procuring a small quantity of rice, pistacios, cassada, and small beans, for ourselves.
seated in a large circular mud hut, surrounded by about twenty-five boys, from the age of seven to fourteen, learning to read and write Arabic
alcaide: a commander of a castle or fortress (as among Spaniards, Portuguese, or Moors)
We left Coonting at four o'clock on the morning of the S8th, and travelled east. Two of the horses were unable to rise from the ground this morning, and were left to their fate. At about a mile from Coonting, we entered a thicket composed of underwood and cane, which was so close that we were obliged to cut down the branches and some trees, for a considerable distance, in order to admit of the camels passing with the loads. The face of the country begins to rise here considerably, and to be diversified by hill and dale — the former high and covered with wood, and the latter apparently very fertile. The soil, too, changed from light sand to a hard yellow clay, intermixed with small quartz pebbles. For about two miles the road led us over hilly and broken ground within a few yards of the river side.
An Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations by Adam Smith (1776)
I have seen several boys, under twenty years of age, who had never exercised any other trade but that of making nails... could make, each of them, upwards of two thousand three hundred nails in a day... blows the bellows, stirs or mends the fire as there is occasion, heats the iron, and forges every part of the nail: in forging the head, too, he is obliged to change his tools...the making of a pin, or of a metal button
In the first fire engines {this was the current designation for steam engines}, a boy was constantly employed to open and shut alternately the communication between the boiler and the cylinder, according as the piston either ascended or descended
One of those boys, who loved to play with his companions, observed that, by tying a string from the handle of the valve which opened this communication to another part of the machine, the valve would open and shut without his assistance, and leave him at liberty to divert himself with his play-fellows.
Observe the accommodation of the most common artificer or daylabourer in a civilized and thriving country
The shepherd, the sorter of the wool, the wool-comber or carder, the dyer, the scribbler, the spinner, the weaver, the fuller, the dresser, with many others, must all join their different arts in order to complete even this homely production. 
ship-builders, sailors, sail-makers, rope-makers
The miner, the builder of the furnace for smelting the ore, the feller of the timber, the burner of the charcoal to be made use of in the smelting-house, the brickmaker, the bricklayer, the workmen who attend the furnace, the millwright, the forger, the smith, must all of them join their different arts in order to produce them.
all the different parts of his dress and household furniture, the coarse linen shirt which he wears next his skin, the shoes which cover his feet, the bed which he lies on, and all the different parts which compose it, the kitchen-grate at which he prepares his victuals, the coals which he makes use of for that purpose, dug from the bowels of the earth, and brought to him, perhaps, by a long sea and a long land-carriage, all the other utensils of his kitchen, all the furniture of his table, the knives and forks, the earthen or pewter plates upon which he serves up and divides his victuals, the different hands employed in preparing his bread and his beer, the glass window which lets in the heat and the light, and keeps out the wind and the rain
Imagined Communities by Benedict Anderson (1983)
-a(ny) reader
sticky Semarang road
he has no idea of the word "socialism": nonetheless he feels a profound malaise in the face of the social organization that surrounds him and he feels the need to enlarge his horizons by two methods: travel and reading
newspaper as cultural product
caprice, 
imagined linkage, calendrical coincidence,
Within that time, 'the world' ambles sturdily ahead.
famine reportage, 
Reading a newspaper is like reading a novel whose author has abandoned any thought of a coherent plot. (!)
each book has its own eremitic self-sufficiency.
Small wonder that libraries, personal collections of mass-produced commodities, were already a familiar sight, in urban centres like Paris, by the sixteenth century.
The significance of this mass ceremony—Hegel observed that newspapers serve modern man as a substitute for morning prayers—is paradoxical. It is performed in silent privacy, in the lair of the skull. Yet each communicant is well aware that the ceremony he performs is being replicated simultaneously by thousands (or millions) of others of whose existence he is confident, yet of whose identity he has not the slightest notion.
daily or half-daily intervals,
Dickens too serialized his popular novels in popular newspapers.
individual egotisms into an impersonal collective will, what would otherwise be chaos into a new state legitimacy
sodalities, centripetal, 
The Naturalist on the River Amazons by Henry Walter Bates (1863)
Cassia trees, with their elegant pinnate foliage and conspicuous yellow flowers, formed a great proportion of the lower trees, and arborescent arums grew in groups around the swampy hollows
The road then ascended slightly, and the soil and vegetation became suddenly altered in character.
Some of them were elegantly veined and hairy (Melastomae), whilst many, scattered amongst the rest, had smaller foliage (Myrtles), but these were not sufficient to subtract much from the general character of the whole.
a few cattle belonging to an estate down a shady lane were congregated, panting, under a cluster of wide-spreading trees
giddy height
The leaves, which have the ordinary pinnate shape characteristic of the family, are emitted from the stems at long intervals, instead of being collected into a dense crown, and have at their tips a number of long recurved spines
Many of the woody lianas suspended from trees are not climbers, but the air-roots of epiphytous plants (Aroidese), which sit en the stronger boughs of the trees above, and hang down straight as plumb-lines
Some are suspended singly, others in clusters ; some reach halfway to the ground and others touch it, striking their rootlets into the earth
Amongst them were species of Marantaceae, some of which had broad glossy leaves, with long leaf-stalks radiating from joints in a reed-like stem
The trunks of the trees were clothed with climbing ferns, and Pothos plants with large, fleshy, heart-shaped leaves. Bamboos and other tall grass and reed-like plants arched over the pathway
a vegetation like that in the great palm-house spread over a large tract of swampy ground
it mingled with large exogenous trees similar to our oaks and elms covered with creepers and parasites
the ground encumbered with fallen and rotting trunks, branches, and leaves; the whole illuminated by a glowing vertical sun, and reeking with moisture
a large building, white-washed and red-tiled as usual, raised on wooden piles above the humid groun
The second story was the part occupied by the family, and along it was an open verandah, where people, maie and female, were at work.
He complained also of the dearness of slaves, owing to the prohibition of the African traffic, telling us that formerly a slave could be bought for 120 dollars, whereas they are now difficult to procure at 400 ($13,535.37 in 2025 ?) dollars.
On Sundays gay parties of forty or fifty persons used to come by land and water, in carriages and gay galliotas, to spend the day with the hospitable owner
spotted-fever
This hurry of the people was such for some weeks that there was no getting at the Lord Mayor’s door without exceeding difficulty; there were such pressing and crowding there to get passes and certificates of health for such as travelled abroad, for without these there was no being admitted to pass through the towns upon the road, or to lodge in any inn. Now, as there had none died in the city for all this time, my Lord Mayor gave certificates of health without any difficulty to all those who lived in the ninety-seven parishes, and to those within the liberties too for a while.
It appeared like a deſart to a great extent, and terminated, on the land side, by frightful thickets, and open pine forests.
inviolate
At the reanimating appearance of the rising sun, nature again revives ; and I obeythe cheerful summons of the gentle monitors of the meads and groves.
The house was a square building, consisting of four equal-sized rooms ; the tiled roof projected all round, so as to form a broad verandah, cool and pleasant to sit and work in. The cultivated .ground, which appeared as if newly cleared from the forest, was planted with fruit trees and small plots of coffee and mandioca. The entrance to the grounds was by an iron-grille gateway from a grassy square, around which were built the few houses and palm-thatched huts which then constituted the village.
emendations, text is literally bristling
(especially of hair) close-set, stiff, and spiky:"a bristling beard"
aggressively brisk or tense:"he fills the screen with a restless, bristling energy"
recondite, dotages
The age of Shakespeare, 1579-1631, Vol. 1 by Thomas Seccombe and John William Allen (1903)
species of commonplace book of aphorisms flowing out of the poet's daily reading
Timber Or Discoveries Made Upon Men and Matter by Ben Jonson (1892)
For every note is stamped with the powerful individuality of the writer, so that even the reflected thoughts of others have become wholly Jonson's own ; while the care with which the notes have been penned, and the painstaking attention to matters of style and expression, entitle Jonson here as elsewhere to challenge the first place of his age as a master of vigorous, idiomatic English prose
Learning definitions, grudged and wreathe:
he grudged the work and time that the meeting involved
"he watched the smoke wreathe into the night air"
"he sits wreathed in smoke"
"shall I once more wreathe my arms about Antonio's neck?"
streams of flame
Indian earthen ware
July 21, 2025
Note 1
Alaska by James A. Michener (1988)
knocking away the snow that threatened to engulfed them, meager fires
superstructures of wood and whalebone and sealskin.
premonitory forms, salvaged his pride by shifting the discussion,
precipitate departure, stygian waters,
Athapascans, 
July 31, 2025
Note 1
Banded rustication 
eye-glass
for aught I know
The French Marshall, a poem by Henry Abbey, (either excerpted from Appletons' Journal of Literature, Science and Art, Vol 2 [1869] or from The Ark Vol. 3 [1913], likely the former)
loud-mouthed bells, flower-sweet face, laid her Springlike head against the Autumn of his cheek, with charms of smile and mien, her gold loose hair with flowers like jewels set, wondrous epaulet, war's red van, 
tarred and feathered
tarred him on!
feathered a perfect lob over the net
watered stock:
The term came from his time in the livestock business, when he would have his cattle lick salt and drink water before selling them, to increase their weight.
: to draw together the edges of by or as if by a lace passed through eyeletslaces her fingers behind her head
a: to adorn with or as if with lacethe surrounding countryside was laced with villages and hamlets—L. C. Heinemannb: to mark with streaks of color
: to add something to impart pungency, savor, or zest toa sauce laced with garlicconversation laced with sarcasm
: to admit of being tied or fastened with a lace2: to make a verbal attack —usually used with intohis boss laced into him for being late
: a cord or string used for drawing together two edges (as of a garment or a shoe)2: an ornamental braid for trimming coats or uniforms3: an openwork usually figured fabric made of thread or yarn and used for trimmings, household coverings, and entire garmentslaced laceless lacelike 
Prince Alexis: or, 'Beauty and the beast'. (1882)
the huge jaws writhe convulsively, and from their edges the hot flakes of blood and foam spurt over Michael's face
August 14, 2025
Note 1
A Boston Girl's Ambitions by Virginia Frances Townsend (1887)
poured through the window-panes [and flickered around the ceramic tiles]
solitary beam glanced over a head that lay, as though in deep slumber, on the pillow. The light shot across his face and into the hair.
He dipped the spoon in the broth.
A small hand, the delicate skin chapped and roughened, stole out from under the blanket, and laid itself on his arm.
tear-wet lashes, 
broiled beefsteak, hot coffee, and fresh rolls.
shrub-shaded driveways, beds and borderings of flowers gave vivid color and grace to the landscape.
At the back of the house stretched a large, fragrant old garden.
Wide stretched the buildings.
Some of the fruit-trees drew their mellow juices from a soil that had nourished them for more than a century.
Discovering the word scarf:
He scarfed his favorite drink. He scarfed his favorite meal.
a quick short movementlithe snaps of its body
a sound made by snapping somethingshut the book with a snap
a: an act or instance of seizing abruptly : a sudden snatching at something
Learning the word snap:
a sudden spell of weathera cold snap
: the condition of being vigorous in body, mind, or spirit : alertness, energyb: a pleasing vigorous quality
snap
3 of 4adverb: with a snap
snap
4 of 4adjective1: done, made, or carried through suddenly or without deliberationa snap judgment2: called or taken without prior warninga snap election3: fastening with a snapa snap lock4: unusually easy or simplea snap course
Note 2
A Boston Girl's Ambitions by Virginia Frances Townsend (1887)
He sat near his sister, in a rickety arm-chair.
Her voice faltered and then steadied itself.
He seized the warm little hands, that suddenly reached themselves out to him.
Before she could speak, he seized her in his arms, and whirled her about the room as though she had been a baby.
August 15, 2025
Note 1
A Boston Girl's Ambitions by Virginia Frances Townsend (1887)
little wafts of cool west wind came through open doors and windows,
the dark, slender, supple-framed young man
Dorrice's eyes followed him with proud content.
She wore, this afternoon, a white dress, with a wide lace scarf at her throat.
She folded her hands.
There was a knock on the door. An instant later, Mrs. Kent rose to receive Ray Gathorpe.
cool, shaded sitting-room
seedy youth, the thin face, the deep-rimmed, despairing eyes.
fine, eager face, 
clear, decided accent,
She turned to gaze through the honeysuckle-vines at the dull-red afterglow in the western sky.
leaning over the low parapet and plucking a yellow rose from a large bush below her.
fastening the yellow rose in Carryl's vest button-hole
bushes, gay with blossoms, low, wide-spreading shrubs, hid the piazza in a great nest of greenery,
She thanked him with a smile in which her eyes had, just then, more share than her lips, and it struck him that she looked, as she leaned against the parapet, with her dark head and slender limbs in strong relief against the greenery, like some piece of rare sculpture; but even such a brother as Carryl Dacres would be less likely than a lover to say this to his sister.
In a moment, his thoughts recurred to another subject. "But you haven't told me yet what you think of young Gathorpe," he said.
Before she could reply,  there was a movement at one of the windows, and Mrs. Kent and her guest came out and joined the two on the piazza.
They were much in the habit of bantering each other; and in their lively badinage and repartee, sometimes one, sometimes the other, got the better.
There was a little silence. Carryl had been moving about the room, during the last few minutes; he came to a full pause before his sister, and the two looked in each other's face. Ray caught the glance that stole up from the brown, dark-lashed eyes. There was a strange solemn look in them. What did it mean?
Ray took in at a glance the airy grace of her figure, in a buff cambric, the fine cool fabric clinging close to her limbs, with a scarf of pale lemon color tied in large, pendant bows at her throat. She wore a small round hat of light yellow straw, around which was knotted some soft gauzy stuff, of a little darker shade. Her dresses were always simple in make, as they were quiet in tint, but clinging folds and flexile lines invested her with a subtle womanly daintness.
"No, Chief, I can't have you along this morning," she said, in a tone which showed the animal was a pet with her. "Be a good dog and go straight to your mistress, and take care of her until I come back."
He lifted his hat. "You have a lovely morning for your drive, Miss Dacres," he said. "Is it to be a long one?"
"Not very: I am going over to Belmont, on some errands for Mrs. Kent."
"If I should presume to ask permission to accompany you, I wonder if it would be to meet with the fate that Chief did, just now!" patting the big head, for, on recognizing that voice, the dog had returned, and was regarding the pair with solemn, intent gaze.-"Can you muster courage to try and see, Mr. Gathorpe?" she answered, archly.
"Well then, my I have the pleasure of driving with you this morning, Miss Dacres?"
For answer she made room on the seat, and placed the reins in his hands.
perfect morning in the waning midsummer
Days of fiery heat had preceded it, paralyzing the air, and parching the land.
An east wind blew, and stirred the drooping leaves, and thrilled the fainting land.
straw-colored blinds
row of tiger-lillies in the front yard
They drew up to the gate of the farm-house, and after he had assisted her to alight, and she had gone inside, he walked about in the short grass that bordered the road, and patted Dapple's white nose, and absently snapped off a grasshopper from his coat-sleeve, and smiled to himself a little, as he thought what a grave turn the gay talk with which they started had taken.
small, sharp-featured mistress,
eying Raw curiously, her apron drawn over her head.
The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone (1961)
One should not become an artist because he can, but because he must. It is only for those who would be miserable without it.
Wasted Fires: A Romance of Australia and England by Hume Nisbet (1902)
after he had taken from his overcoat his pipe and tobacco pouch, fixing a pair of cold, stone-coloured eyes upon the husband and wife
He was an old man, this weekly comforter, how old it would be difficult to guess ; a spare, thin figure, with a shrivelled, wrinkled face, hard in expression, whiskers and hair grizzly and harsh, and eyebrows over-pent and shaggy.
flushed cheeks.
،،Well, what do you think of it ? " asked Dirk, while his wife sat silent at the other side of the table with closely-clasped hands, as the old man silently folded it up, and, taking off his spectacles, slowly began to fill his pipe
daresay
" Yes, yes, perhaps "—a long pause, filled out with heavy puffs of smoke—“however, I have not come to discourage you ; it may be all right in the end ; let us hope so, for your sake.
said Mrs. Davelock, with a miserable look in her rich brown eyes.
sea-scape
his ghastly pallor 
host and hostess became wan and wearied as the timepiece on the mantel ticked out the lagging moments.
A white tom-cat sprang on to the table at this pause in the conversation, and, arching his back, purred as he rubbed his soft sides against the dark downcast cheeks of his mistress.
A beautiful starry night it was into which the old man briskly walked with a jaunty step, his stick sounding on the pavement as if three heels were ringing along, and the young man watched him as he receded, buttoning up his overcoat.
he resolved to walk the distance.
advanced quickly to step upon it
Dirk had stopped half way, all of a sudden, and was looking behind him with his hand pressing the calf of his left leg as if in great pain.
The chemist looked for a moment very ponderous and solemn as Dirk rolled up his trousers, surprised himself to find no trace of a blow.
A chill of horror struck Dirk as he heard this verdict, alone in Metaltown, and such a catastrophe in store ; he grew blind for a moment, while the place swam round and a cold sickness settled upon his heart, as all the dire consequences flashed before him.
no chance of getting any one to attend to him, he managed to crawl over the bed and dress himself. 
rasher of bacon
Dirk gave a little gasp as he drew out his purse
sank back on the hard antimaccassar-covered sofa to ruminate 
The first trouble which Mrs. Davelock experienced, after getting in, was from a deluge of milk-men. The knocker went from morning to night, while cards lay upon the lobby floor like a heavy shower of snow, and before her bewildered brain could grasp the difficulty, she had committed herself to about two dozen of these milk-decocting adventurers
parcel of drawings
he strode down the office stairs and out to the street with a mist of hot blood before his eyes
Place Saint-Georges in Paris, showing top-floor garret windows
aldermen, chattels
Fitz-Stephen's Survey of the Metropolis (excerpted either from Saint Pancras Past and Present or The Municipal Parks, Gardens, and Open Spaces of London)
yew trees, wood of which esteemed the best for making bows.
cavalcade
odoriferous woods
The Picture of London (could be 1802, 1810, who knows)
In 1419, Sir Thomas Eyre, compassionating the distress of the poor in times of scarcity, built Leaden-hall at his own expense, and gave it to the City to be employed at a public granary. It is now (1800?) used as a market for poultry, meat, hides, and leather.
charities in 1419
In the ensuing year Smithfield was paved, and in 1615 the sides of the principal streets, which had before been laid with pebbles, were now paved with broad free-stone and flags.
amerced
Shortly after Charles's execution, Sir Abraham Reynardson, then lord mayor, refusing to proclaim the abolition of monarchy, was degraded from his office and imprisoned; a more obsequious one was then chosen. On the death of Commonwell, the common council made a strong opposition to the committee of safety, declared for a free parliament, and refused to advance resources; when government, dreading the effects of such an opposition, ordered General Monk to march his army into the city, who broke and cut to pieces the city gates, portcullises, and posts.
About the beginning of May, 1665, one of the most...
Bring out your dead!
in one week = 6988 dead
was London actually paganism in 17th century, or is that a byword for Protestants?
burgesses
corporate bodies of tradesmen,
any of the most expensive seminaries for private tuition,
A Boston Girl's Ambitions by Virginia Frances Townsend (1887)
small, steep-roofed, slender-pillared portico, 
faltered
solemn, faltering tones, 
? dignity in the ward, in death,
Travels and Adventures in Southern Africa by George Thompson (1827)
diversified with hanging woods, rocks, and waterfalls,
a gothic cathedral, with narrow sloping buttresses covered with a smooth turf of the liveliest verdure,
The garden is watered by a little brook...
Somerset Farm—extensive Government establishment—under the superintendence of Mr. Hart
August 18, 2025
Note 1
Excerpt 1
The Green Satin Gown by Laura E. Richards (1903)
Here we sat, and fanned ourselves with our pocket-handkerchiefs, while I tried to find breath for a question; but there was not time! 
snowy hair, arranged in puff on puff
We were wearing large sleeves then, something like yours at the present day, and high collars; the fashion was at its height. This gown had long, tight, wrinkled sleeves, coming down over the hand, and finished with a ruffle of yellow lace; the neck, rounded and half-low, had a similar ruffle almost deep enough to be called a ruff; the waist, if it could be called a waist, was up under the arms: briefly, a costume of my grandmother's time. Little green satin slippers lay beside it, and a huge feather-fan hung by a green ribbon.
Excerpt 2
?
He flutterred his finger to her. He fluttered around the room.
sunfaced
he came wrapped in robes,
battlemented wall
August 19, 2025
Note 1
The Green Satin Gown by Laura E. Richards (1903)
stuffed chairs, its tidies, and cabinet organ
The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone (1961)
haircloth
coverlets, cupboard, catercorner, hatrack,
small bundle of clothes,
drew in his breath sharply,
lay, his hands locked behind his head,
entresol, foyer,
the walls in a cool cream color,
light brown hair and fair complexion, tall and corpulent, with a heavy face and plump underchin.
dark, handsome, saturnine. his eyes slashed through the assemblage, separating every personage and relationship. He missed nothing that could be useful to him,
young suckling pig roasted on a spit, with rosemary in their mouths,
slipped her arm through his,
The following morning he and Bertoldo walked through the sentient air of early spring, the sky a cerulean blue, the stones of Florence fire-gold as they absorbed the sun. Above them on the hills of Fiesole each cypress, villa and monastery stood out from the green-gray background of olives and vines. They went to the far end of the garden, to the collection of marble books. It was as though they were standing in an ancient cemetery whose tumbled headstones had been bleached by the sun.
August 20, 2025
Note 1
o—---[[ NOTAS! ]]----—o
The Home Grounds By Edward Gorton Davis & Ralph Wright Curtis, 1915
Floral Life: Devoted to the Flower Garden and the Home, Volume 2, 1904
History of Oregon, Volume 1, by Hubert Howe Bancroft & Frances Fuller Victor, 1890
The Story of a Pioneer: With The Collaboration Of Elizabeth Jordan by Anna Howard Shaw, 1915
The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone, 1961
All the King's Men by Robert Penn Warren, 1946
Caravans to Santa Fe by Alida Malkus, 1928
Raquel of the Ranch Country by Alida Malkus, 1927
The Life and Letters of Washington Irving, Volume 4, Oxford University, 1864
The Home Grounds By Edward Gorton Davis & Ralph Wright Curtis, 1915
A rustic pergola over a long, straight, bricked walk.
Inclosing borders should not be of a monotonous and rigid outline. Such monotony comes largely from an overuse of shrubs as compared to trees; a continuous line of this low material gives no relief nor variety. Tree should be used first where there is room for them, and should form the bulk of the plantings.
A garden may be a perfectly lawless place...
An inclosed and flower-bordered kitchen garden three hundred years old
Vines... for draping the arches of garden walks...
A dooryard where the stone steps form a flower garden of rock plants. These steps lead from a terrace to a garden in which native wood plants have been naturalized
Vines should be used with caution and placed where they will accentuate ideas already established.
Norway Maple... a tough and hardy tree, low-headed but excellent for the lawn or the average city street where there are no wires.
Cornus mas; bears yellow flowers early in spring, before the leaves appear.
Tulip Tree, or Whitewood... foliage is rich and glossy, but limbs are very brittle.
Weeping European Beech... purple varieties, erect and weeping, are more striking, but the normal green-foliage types are more satisfactory.
Trembling Aspen... usually a small tree, from 40 to 50 feet high, with gray-green trunk and limbs, most attractive against a dark background.
Scotch Pine... irregular spreading habit, and bluish green foliage with salmon-colored trunks; grows rapidly but is short-lived in America.
Red, or Norway, Pine... a native pine, little used but very handsome and thoroughly satisfactory; foliage long and dark green, in heavy clusters, making a strong, bold effect when the trees are massed in groups.
Weeping Japanese Cherry... pale rose-purple flowers, appearing early, before the leaves.
Alternate-Leaved Dogwood... a slender little native tree or large shrub, with branches in whorls wide apart, very Japanese-like.
Retinospora pisifera var. squarrosa, a Japanese Cypress with blue-gray, feathery foliage 
(e.g., The young man passed the blue-gray, feathery foliage of a Japanese cypress.)
Maidenhair Tree... this remains narrow for forty or fifty years, and then broadens out, with wide-reaching limbs.
Umbrella Pine... A hardy but rare plant, conspicuous in both form and foliage. The leaves are clustered twenty to thirty in a whorl, are long and narrow, and are dark glossy green in color.
These conical evergreen types are always emphatic and conspicuous, and do not harmonize readily with normal surroundings in America. As specimens such evergreens should be used sparingly. They are much safer in solid groups. Even when planted in mass, the individuals themselves are so emphatic that it takes years for them to merge together into a solid evergreen mass. Comparing a solid planting of Norway Spruce... with a similar planting of Hemlock... it is seen that in the former every individual spruce is stiff and conical and remains so for years, while in the latter, even five years after planting, the hemlocks, with their graceful habit and foliage, have lost their individuality and merged into one indefinite mass. The hemlock is the finest tree that can be used for solid evergreen planting.
As a class, the rapid-growing trees are weak-wooded and transient. They are cheap, and are usually thought of as fillers for temporary or quick effects.
The White, or Silver, Poplar... has striking foliage, green above and white woolly below, but it easily collects dirt and soon becomes unsightly. The tree grows very rapidly, suckers abundantly, and is likely to become a nuisance.
The Box Elder, or Ash-leaved Maple... is another worthless tree for the street. It is a small, straggling tree, good for holding a bank because it grows and spreads so rapidly. It is used in western street planting because it is resistant to drought; but there is no justification for it in the East, where one may have such sterling good trees as Elms, Oaks, Oriental Planes, and Sugar and Norway Maples.
The Horse-chestnut, like the Soft Maple, is planted far too much on city streets. It is a tree for the open lawn, and when set in the average dry city street it not only invites vandalism by its flowers and fruits, but also invariably suffers from lack of water and becomes unsightly before the summer is gone.
The Hardy Catalpa is both weak-wooded and conspicuous in flower. It also has large, tender leaves, which easily collect dust and become torn and ragged in a storm.
The Beech (Fagus) is not suitable for street planting, although it is not mentioned above. It is hard to get established, casts a dense shade, and is worthless on dry soil.
Floral Life: Devoted to the Flower Garden and the Home, Volume 2, 1904
Leaf-cuttings make the most compact and shapely plants, but more graceful plants are grown from soft-wood cuttings taken in May, June, July and August
Begonia... The branches are drawn down over the sides of the basket so as to cover it completely, the effect being that of a hanging great ball of bloom.
but when rightly grown, well hardened and intelligently handled they frequently retain their bloom for four weeks or more.
Several years ago the church at which occurred one of the most notable weddings in Newport was decorated with Easter Lilies and this magnificent Begonia, the aisles being flanked by hundreds of magnificent baskets upon high pedestals, the standards of which were festooned with Smilax, forming a strikingly rich and graceful effect.
To me this same Pine-all Pines, in fact has a stately, soldier-like air, as if doing battle with the storms of this world to protect its frailer treasures.
The Southern Pine has a minstrel's voice, and a proud, commanding mien;  It sings the songs of the winds that smite its musical boughs of green.
But whether its silvery foliage be likened to priestly vestments, steel-blue lances, or vibrating cords, the beauty of the White Pine is unquestioned.
A botanist would note that the needles are three sided and grow five in a group, while you and I were merely admiring their silken sheen, as the wind tossed them about and the sun sparkled in many swift changes of silver and steel-blue light among them.
But the trees that stand on poor, parched hillsides, from which all fertility has gradually washed away, are the ones that usually bear the heaviest crop of fruit. 
Their leaves are small and poorly colored, their branches thinly set, and after a few years of prodigal fruitage they die, recalling the old practice of ringing vines and trees to make them bear heavily
The tall, scraggy Gum-trees of our swamps 
steel-blue berries
On high, cold mountain tops grows another pretty little evergreen shrub, Dendrium buxifolium prostratum. "Mountain Heather" it is familiarly called, though its near relative, D. buxifolium, of the coast region, is knownas Sand Myrtle. It is an exceedingly pretty little bush, and grows in dense, rounded clumps in the bare spaces about and among the Rhododendrons. Its flowers are small and dainty-pale pink and scentless.
A combination of rocks and rustin work will form an ideal floral rockery, if set in irregular, careless fashion.
A novel change from the regulation primly-set, stone-banked imitation is an arrangement of half a dozen huge rocks (which will frequently cost less than a cart-load of small ones) covered with trailing bloomers. Stiff Geraniums and stately bedding plants would be manifestly out of place here; so drooping and trailing plants and old-fashioned ribbon-grasses fill the crevices, partly cover the rocks, and surround the rustic bench or chair at their base.
Effectiveness of large masses of stone in a rockery 
Rockeries, as made in the past, are held in contempt by all gardeners who have not survived their taste, but large rocks in semi-detached masses are always susceptible to artistic treatment and suggestive of bold and beautiful effects.
Among the Japanese this germ in the child is fostered and trained to adorn life with the same kind of grace and charm which results from the honeysuckle or the climbing rose that you train to adorn the pillars of the home verandah.
Do not crowd too many blossoms into one vase; do not join discordant colors; do not let the arrangements be too symmetrical, or too stiff. A few loosely arranged roses in a bowl with honeysuckle, or a few sprays of Clematis paniculata, are far more pleasing than an over-crowded arrangement of the same flowers.
as golden-rods and asters growing together in a bit of marsh-land
Shujiu-aikio: The esteem of all mankind.... Fortunate indeed must the Japanese student of the mysteries of flower-lore be, if he becomes endowed with the half of these most desirable graces. 
The garden of a grand mansion should not be copied from the one belonging to the cottage, nor the garden on the hillside be a counterpart of the one on the plain.
The paths therein were keys to the place. They were either covered with pebbles, shells, or else made simply of well-trodden earth. These dirt walks, after a heavy dew or shower, undoubtedly were moist and muddy, consequently, the paper-soled shoes or dainty slippers-the only foot-gear the dear ladies, our foremothers, considered either appropriate or be coming—must have been in a sorry condition following the early morning's visit to the garden, when the huge basket was filled with the full-blown roses for the making of most excellent rose water, the favorite perfume of that time. 
These antiquated, simple and fragrant gardens of the first part of the last century were divided by clipped box into squares or parallellograms, diamonds and circles. 
Fruit trees were scattered about here and there through the garden...  later turned into most toothsome preserves, jellies, jams and marmalades.
Holding an important place in this old-time garden was a sort of latticed arbor, retreat or summer-house. 
In September, when one walked in the dear old garden, the shout of the cicada, the shrill chirrup of the cricket, and the drowsy hum of the bee, busy storing its winter supply, could be heard, for these indefatigable little workers were after the fruit-honey.
As autumn advanced this luxuriant verdure and vegetation gradually lost its charm; it grew weedy, untidy and unkempt; but the month of May, with its Snowdrops, Crocuses, Hyacinths and Violets abounded in promise ; June with its rich rankness of bloom and perfume being the culmination of that assurance.
History of Oregon, Volume 1, by Hubert Howe Bancroft & Frances Fuller Victor, 1890
glistening heights
purpled summits of the continuous range, silvered with snow in spring and autumn, and glowing during the afternoons of summer under a rosy violet mist
As the eastern foothills sink to plain, the forest disappears, only a few scattering pines remaining in the vicinity of the Dalles; by the bars and on sandy margins of the river grow willows and low shrubs, while above them rise high rounded buffs, bald and monotonous, yet not without picturesque effect.
Beyond these the country rolls off in broken plains, covered in spring by a delicate verdure bright with flowers, later wearing a russet hue that early gave it the name of desert.
There is an abundance of water-fowl, conscpicuous among which are brant, geese of several species, cranes, mallard, canvas-back, and summer duck, blue-winged and green-winged teal, snipe, golden and killdee plover, and other wading birds, some of which are not palatable.
The streams are well-stocked with fish—the brooks with trout, and the rivers with salmon of two or three species.
It consisted of a strong stockage about twenty feet high, without bastions, embracing an area of two hundred and fifty by one hundred and fifty yards.
grapevines trained along a rude trellis
The steps leading to the hall of the governor's house were of horseshoe form, and between the two flights stood a twenty-four-pound cannon, mounted on a ship's carriage, and on either side of this were two mortar guns, all with shot piled orderly about them, but otherwise looking innocent enough in their peaceful resting-places.
There were no galleries around the walls for sentries, nor loop-holes  for small-arms, no appearances, in fact, indicating a dangerous neighborhood.
...trader, clerk, smith, baker, or tailor.
A bell large enough for a country church was supported by three stout poles about twenty feet high, covered with a little pointed roof to keep off the rain. This brazen monitor rang out at five o'clock in the morning, rousing the furriers, mechanics, and farmers to their tasks.
consisting in winter of eight gallons of potatoes and eight salt salmon, and in summer of pease and tallow
And if within the fort this industry was necessary, it was none the less so without, where a farm of about seven hundred acres had been brought under cultivation, on which was raised abundance of grain and vegetables, requiring extensive storehouses. 
Large bands of cattle and sheep were kept, the latter improved by careful breeding until they yielded twelve-pound fleeces.
The Story of a Pioneer: With The Collaboration Of Elizabeth Jordan by Anna Howard Shaw, 1915
We were with five hundred emigrants on the lowest deck of the ship but one, and as the storm grew wilder an unreasoning terror filled our fellow-passengers.
for hours we watched the dreary shuttle of labor swing back and forth as the convicts carried pails of water from one side of the island, only to empty them into the sea at the other side. 
As a return for my service of song the men kept my little apron full of ship sugar—very black stuff and probably very bad for me; but I ate an astonishing amount of it during that voyage, and, so far as I remember, felt no ill effects.
I was at the foot of a ladder up which a sailor was carrying a great pot of hot coffee
The western sky was a mass of crimson and gold clouds,
I can still see a line of big Irishmen standing very straight and holding out their tongues for inspection.
Discovering that my tiny petticoats were in my way, my new friend had a little boy's suit made for me; and thus emancipated, at this tender age, I worked unwearyingly at his side all day long and day after day.
blows of my dull but active hatchet
I had a little adventure of my own, as when one day, in visiting our cellar, I heard a noise in the coal-bin. I investigated and discovered a negro woman concealed there. 
The first banana I ever ate was purchased that day, and I hesitated over it a long time. Its cost was five cents, and in view of that large expenditure, the eating of the fruit, I was afraid, would be too brief a joy. I bought it, however, and the experience developed into a tragedy, for, not knowing enough to peel the banana, I bit through skin and pulp alike, as if I were eating an apple, and then burst into ears of disappointment. 
berry-patches
We forded innumerable streams, the wheels of the heavy wagon sinking so deeply into the stream-beds that we often had to empty our load before we could get them out again. Fallen trees lay across our paths, rivers caused long detours, while again and again we lost our way or were turned aside by impenetrable forest tangles.
In the back of the wagon my mother had a box of little pigs, and during the afternoon these had broken loose and escaped into the woods.
Possibly she had visions of red barns and deep meadows, sunny skies and daisies
but her face never lost the deep lines those first hours of her pioneer life had cut upon it.
That night we slept on boughs spread on the earth inside the cabin walls
Behind our blankets, swaying in the night wind, I thought I saw the heads and pushing shoulders of animals and heard their padded footfalls.
Mother was practically an invalid. She had a nervous affection which made it impossible for her to stand without the support of a chair. But she sewed with unusual skill, and it was due to her that our clothes, notwithstanding the strain to which we subjected them, were always in good condition. She sewed for hours every day...
On every side, and at every hour of the day, we came up against the relentless limitations of pioneer life. There was not a team of horses in our entire region. The team with which my brother had driven us through the wilderness had been hired at Grand Rapids for that occasion, and, of course, immediately returned. Our lumber was delivered by ox-teams, and the absolutely essential purchases we made "outside" (at the nearest shops, forty miles away) were carried through the forest on the backs of men. Our mail was delivered once a month by a carrier who made the journey in alternate stages of horseback riding and canoeing. But we had health, youth, enthusiasm, good appetites, and the wherewithal to satisfy them, and at night in our primitive bunks we sank into abysses of dreamless slumber such as I have never known since. Indeed, looking back upon them, those first months seem to have been a long-drawn-out and glorious picnic, interrupted only by occasional hours of pain or panic, when we were hurt or frightened.
All the horrible stories we had heard of Indian cruelty flashed into our minds, and for a moment we were dumb with terror. Then I remembered having been told that the one thing one must not do before them is to show fear. 
There were also a few arithmetics and algebras, a historical novel or two, and the inevitable copy of Uncle Tom's Cabin, whose pages I had freely moistened with my tears.
Our coffee soon gave out, and as a substitute we made and used a mixture of browned peas and burnt rye. 
The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone, 1961
fractured off the high corners
pulled up a bench, straddled the block, gripping it with both knees, picked up hammer and chisel
His body settled down in a soughing movement
brass lamps on Lorenzo's writing desk
Seven chairs were drawn up to a low table.
Perched on the edge of a stiff leather chair
Pico della Mirandola put his elbows on the low table, resting his chin on his clasped hands.
moistened his overly red, projecting underlip
He took a book down from the shelf, quickly thumbed through it and read the story of the statue
the white blouse embroidered with grapes and leaves, the short surcoat with cape sleeves belted in front with silver buckles, the wine-colored stockings
Torrigiani came stalking down the path, his flame-colored cloak and orange plumes on his black velvet hat flying. He hauled up short in front of Michelangelo.
Torrigiani seized his arm. Michelangelo held back.
The carpenter and grocer sitting in the sun before their shops pulled at their caps respectfully; otherwise his new clothes were no more of a success at home than they had been with Rustici.
He eyed the three gold coins gleaming on the desk.
said, his face a deep red
He murmured to Lorenzo, "We shall not be too far apart, only a few hundred feet across the Piazza San Macro. If you lean out the window of your monastery cell you will hear me cutting stone in the garden"
three gold coins on his washstand
linen tablecloth bordered with openwork
The color rose to his cheeks.
gowned in gray damask embroidered with jewels
high-backed purple throne chair
All the King's Men by Robert Penn Warren, 1946
I stood there against the wall, under the bookshelves that went up to the ceiling, full of old leather books, a lot of them law books, that got lost in the shadows up above and made the room smell musty like old cheese.
rubiginous-hided... face
his white jacket hung on the back of the chair
the Judge's face was the color of calf's liver again
heaved himself in the direction of the bottle
...right—" the Boss ruminatively turne the glass in his hands—"back...
said from way up there where his head was, above the rays of the desk lamp
admitted ruefully, lifting his face under the light. and shaking his head in fatalistic sadness
popped straight up in the chair with that inner explosiveness he had when, all of a sudden, he would snatch a fly out of the air or whip his head at you and his eyes would snap open.
popped up and his heels dug into the red carpet
sloshed out of his glass onto his Palm Beach pants
thicker'n blue-bottle flies on a dead dog
walk barefoot in the cow pasture
looked up at [anyone]'s face, squinting, studying it, cocking his own head to one side.
Caravans to Santa Fe by Alida Malkus, 1928
Slipping to a window where one long dazzling shaft of sunshine pierced a crack in the shutter
rope-haired trappers
barbaric Yanqui caravaners
Consuelo stretched herself reflectively upon the bed, tossing aside a hand-woven coverlet of drawn threads
and lifted the bare foot to catch a breeze stirring through deep-silled windows.
In fact, her mirrored face was all that she cared about at the moment. Hers was that most charming of Spanish types, which in profile is straight-nosed, delicately cut, but which in full face appears childish, the nose short, a trifle broad, the eyes large and heavy-lidded, the lips full, petulant. There was strength in the squaring of the jaw and in level, heavily marked brows, scowling now with her rebellions.
ancient blue Chinese mantle
Dipping a wide-toothed tortoise comb into the tepid water that still stood in a heavy silver washbasin by her bed, she ran it through the dark waves till they curled crisply, with a shining order.
Large and high-ceiled, its adobe walls were tinted a salmon pink; the two windows, square-paned, deeply recessed by the three-foot walls, were curtained with lace, and the great carven bedstead was draped with rose-red damask hangings from Spain.
Before a small corner fireplace with an Indian chimney lay a thick and enormous buffalo skin, and the rough board floor was strewn with other peltries.
There were many shawls, black Spanish lace from Seville, a bright embroidered peasant challis, gold and salmon flowers on a white ground, fine merinos and cashmeres of European peasant patterns.
Consuelo chose now a white dress of sheer batiste, embroidered heavily in white, full-skirted, with a short plain bodice. She donned the red shoe that still lay under the bed, and when Felicita had brought her the other from the doorway, she permitted the peon woman to throw the flowered shawl over her shoulder, and stepped out into the corredor. Then she turned impulsively and ran back. Snatching a silk scarf from the bed, she draped it over Felicita’s head.
Her dress of black silk was voluminous and hung straight from her shoulders,—a fact which the shawl about her shoulders could not hide.
Manuel, taking silence as assent, was already strumming, and intoning his new copleta in a plaintive nasal tenor.
Raquel of the Ranch Country by Alida Malkus, 1927
fashionable school for girls whose turrets overlooked the Hudson
this feudal castle in its beautiful grounds, all splashed with the reds and golds of autumn.
Lights were already glowing within the school.
Raquel could see girlish figures passing and repassing before the windows in their soft-colored frocks.
long-legged, handsome girl from the depths of an easy chair where she sprawled with a book.
At the ranch there was only the odor of fresh alfalfa blossoms to cover the smell of frying meat or sizzling frijoles.
calfskin bags
Raquel attacked the clumsy-looking knotted rope with deft fingers
Raquel was so absorbed that she did not hear the door softly open and close.
But the pride and confidence in her voice faded as her empty hand fell to her side
She laid a cordial hand on Raquel’s arm.
Anne Marvin winced at Raquel’s grip
Tall, blonde, handsome, she was easily the best and the most simply dressed girl at school. Her hair was ashen fair, her skin a flushed ivory, and she wore tans, ashes of roses, sage greens, deep blues, avoiding the usual pinks and blues affected by blondes.
Anne could not have imagined her in Lois’ setting of taffetas and filet laces.
The Life and Letters of Washington Irving, Volume 4, Oxford University, 1864
Don't snub me about my late literary freak. 
Besides, I write for pleasure as well as profit 
You tell me Pierre was quite distressed lest any "thoughtless word of his should have marred my happy literary mood."
self-complacency
jewing the world
restive
felicitating
unexampled
superintending
fagged 
snug establishment
New York... It is really now oneof the most racketing cities in the world, and reminds me of one of the great European cities (Frankfort,for instance) in the time of an annual fair.
boudoir
lilies of the valley 
unpretending affair
importunity
adverting
the trees along the bank formed a screen
raciness
desideratum
the winter fireside
soi-disant
he then gazed at it until the tears gathered in his eyes
After tea he took mallet and chisel, and proceeded to unbox it. 
Delve by SenescentSoul, 2019 (June 2)
white undershirt with a pair of plaid cotton pajama pants
hook-nosed man 
Rain pulled his bound hands down underneath himself and, with some struggling, managed to get them in front of him. 
ragged slab of meat
Mid-sentence, the archer cut off and tilted his head, then looked out to the road, narrowing his eyes. Rain followed his gaze and started searching the treeline across the road for whatever had caught his attention.
There was a faint white glow in the air, pulsing in intensity. Looking for the origin, he noticed that the woman had her eyes closed and arms spread. The glow was emanating from her body and washing away the filth as if it had never been. The pulses of light built on her skin before silently breaking away, diffusing outwards in a sphere. The light drifted through the clearing like a pale, luminous fog, curling around objects it encountered and rolling along the ground in eddying waves.
more:
psionics
The Zombie Knight Saga by George M. Frost, 2013 (April 6)
The door flew from its hinges, ripping its deadbolt and chained lock right out of the wood and plaster.
August 27, 2025
Note 1
NOTAS
Raquel of the Ranch Country by Alida Malkus, 1927
A Boston Girl's Ambitions by Virginia Frances Townsend, 
Raquel of the Ranch Country by Alida Malkus, 1927
Smiling her prettiest and edging her horse closer to Raquel’s, she waited for an introduction to the attractive strangers.
She waved a comprehensive hand at the other girls.
As the boys lifted their caps with a flourish and cantered away, Marian turned on Raquel.
drawly
Then rage boiled up to her rescue.
Tears stung Raquel’s eyes.
In her pocket was a letter from Dad.
pale pink
There was a long yellow envelope awaiting Raquel when she and Anne set down their bags three mornings later in the great hall at The Towers, a night message from Dad.
“Enlisted today. Assigned to animal transport section,” it ran. “Need you back to run the rancho.” He was to leave as soon as she could get home. Dad enlisted! And she was to be the Boss of the Lazy L!
When the girls were assembled in the auditorium, Miss Hetty Carter stepped before them to make an announcement. Something in her manner commanded a deeper hush than usual.
It was always bewildering to Raquel, the recollection of that leave-taking at The Towers.
Deep in the old trunk, with Anne sorting her traveling clothes, she rose at a knock to see the whole school, apparently, trying to crowd into her room.
Girl after girl, they squeezed in, and then bright little Lillie Matthews was speaking for them.
And here was a token of their esteem.
And earnest little Lillie, eyes suddenly brimming, planted a kiss on Raquel’s cheek.
a shower of books, scarves, boxes of candy, girls’ trinkets, came pouring into Raquel’s lap and trunk
That same afternoon two west-bound trains sped into the setting sun, bearing two girls
into a strange country where life might deal none too gently.
a lazy cigarette drooping from his lips
On the long kitchen table twelve big golden-brown loaves cooled, giving off a delicious odor.
Beside it were spread some three dozen plump little birds
crinkly-eyed
tiny wrinkles protested against the desert glare.
She stooped to take out the second pan of bread, and the smell of roasting venison escaped as the oven door was opened. The mingling of meat odors and fresh bread brought the hound dogs sniffing at the kitchen screens. On the back of the stove the inevitable frijole beans simmered.
Mrs. Daniels hurried out to the piazza where Jami, his eyes glued to a pair of field glasses, was looking towards the pass through which ran the road to town.
ice cream fountain
cream-plastered walls
Raquel drew a sigh of content.
Her eyes sparkled as she called over her shoulder, “I pretty nearly forgot what the sun looked like back there.”
purty clothes
overhead sky
afeared
high-ceilinged, deep-walled
a platter of golden brown quail at the other, flanked with savory bacon... flaky potatoes, chili and beans, winter squash... sweet-pickled peaches... mounds of bread
Ole Hossfoot speared a piece of bread, deftly reaching across Jimmy’s face
Jami’s smooth cheek was bulging, and Georgie’s face was bisected with a whole slice of bread and butter.
Angel’s eyes followed lovingly the bowl of beans, which, never stopping its circuit of the table, was now in Dad’s hands.
There was a momentary pause in the clatter of fork and knife against plate long enough to hear a pounding on the dining-room floor from beneath.
Every one roared, except Russell and Georgie, who sank down in his seat.
It was long and fairly wide, with heavy, irregular beams studding its ceiling.
Mesquite roots and dried tulas burned in an uncommonly large fireplace, built with a projecting hood by some Mexican craftsman with a cunning hand. The firelight leaped ruddily on the cream plastered walls, and on trophies of ranch hunts hanging there.
A Boston Girl's Ambitions by Virginia Frances Townsend, 1887
a smooth yellow-brown line, between wide margins of grass, flecked with daisies and white clover
She drew off her glove, and gave him the soft, slender hand; and his own, large and white and shapely closed over it.
entered the cool shaded avenues
A little later, when the two ladies sat at lunch...
It was an old, fragrant, dreamy place, reaching far down from the back of the house, filled with fruit-trees and vines and bushes, while beds full of sweet, old-fashioned flowers edged the walks with narrow borderings of bright color.
The sun of the waning afternoon caught the dark, clear outline, and sent little golden flecks among the thick, glossy hair.
wore suits of dark, well-fitting summer-cloth
said Carryl, meeting his friend's gaze, and plucking a spear of grass,
spoke absently
as you lay there, and I looked at your profile, cut sharply against the grass, the whole thing came up to me, clear and fresh as though it happened yesterday
is coming on in a blind, rapid way... Something in his gait or manner strikes me curiously. He runs against me at the corner, and then starts back;
and when I get a glance into his eyes, there is a look of wild misery in them which I hope never to see in human eyes
Among the soft brown shadows, his face had a strained, white look.
he said, in a low, imperative voice
Carryl sprang to his feet.
His black eyes blazed large in his white face.
It brought her, swift and startled, down the stairs. She had on a dressing-sacque of cream-colored cashmere, edged with a light blue embroidery. She had been arranging her hair; and, in her haste, a part of the rich auburn mass had slipped down, and hung, a rippling heap about her shoulder.
exclaimed Dorrice, her startled glance going from one to the other
He would never forget how she looked at that instant, with the great shining in her eyes, with her proud, tremulous lips, and her hair, with its golden glints, like a dark cloud, about her pale face.
Then the train began to move, and Ray had to spring aboard.
Carryl found his sister pacing the room.
She gave a low cry at sight of him, and tried to speak; but sobs broke instead of words. When he went to her, she clung to him, white and shaken.
A faint flush crept under the clear olive skin.
She answered in low, shaken tones.
Late that evening...
The rattling of horse-cars, the rumbling of coach wheels, the hum of voices, the movement of feet, and all the myriad sounds, with which the great city was filling the summer night, came through his window in a dim, muffled way.
he threw himself into a chair, crossed his arms on the table, buried his face in them, and broke down in a great sob.
All his future he must remember the charming little suppers they had on the piazza, embowered in the greenery of shrubs and vines, while the old garden behind filled the air with the sweet, subtle odors of ripening flowers and fruits, and the sunset slowly dulled into the pale safforns and lavenders of twilight.
upon Dorrice, cool and graceful in some light summer-dress, the glint of a sunbeam in her hair, the glancing of a shadow on the curve of her cheek; and upon the strong, stalwart young men
letter-case
glanced at him with startled, questioning eyes
They had a fancy for this remote nook, and always preferred it to the small terraces and pretty summerhouses and little, shadow-dappled grass-plots that offered such tempting lounging-places nearer the house.
stretched himself on the grass dim and cool with shadows
Carryl was on the little rustic bench beside him.
He bent over suddenly, and placed the leather case under Ray's eyes. "Do you know who wrote that?" he asked, pointing to a card which lay on the silken lining.
Ray took the card up, and scanned it contiuously. He read Caryl Dacres' name, and an address, in a large, scrawling hand.
staring curiously from the card—a good deal worn round the edges—to his companion's face
Ray drew a long breath, turned over the case, and inspected it curiously. Then, in a flash, it all came back to him; he was on his feet in a moment.
looking at his friend with an unutterable look in his eyes.
Drowsy little winds woke and went to sleep again among the leafy cherry-boughs. A yellow shaft of sunlight struck down on the big bole, and brought out all the knots and wrinkles of the old bark. Big yellow butterflies, and brown-belted bees flitted about in the dim, purplish shadows.
fair, girlish figure
what splendid pluck that girl carries under all her softness
At last the young men rose. While Carryl had been talking, the dim blue shadows had gathered under the great tree, and a mass of low-lying, fleecy clouds in the west, began to flush into deep crimsons and brighten into dazzling yellows.
These acquiescent laconics were not Dorrice's habit.
Dorrice slipped out of the front door. Her white dress gleamed between the shrubberies, as she came swiftly down the path to where Ray was standing.
Some of these were so amusing that, once or twice, people passing on the sidewalk stopped to listen to the laughter that floated out into the night.
It was only when they went inside that the talk took a graver tone.
The young men had barely stared for the train, when...
That was Carryl's stride along the gravel.
She had sprung into a side-path which led up to the house; and, as she disappeared among the shrubberies, she heard him calling, "Where are you, Gathorpe?"
continue on Chapter 44 (XLIV)
Every one roared, except Russell and Georgie, who sank down in his seat. 
hit something at an angle and bounce off obliquely:"the stone glanced off a crag and hit Tom on the head
(of light) reflect off something with a brief flash:"sunlight glanced off the curved body of a dolphin"
August 28, 2025
Note 1
ELLC by Exterminatus, 2016
A sword had punctured through the nape of her neck. § The sudden thrust had driven the blade completely through her throat, leaving the bloodied tip poking out from underneath her chin.
August 29, 2025
Note 1
Middlemarch by George Eliot (1871)
iron-grey hair
said, with an easy smile,
observe her newly
"You see how widely we differ, Sir James. I have made up my mind that I ought not to be a perfect horsewoman, and so I should never correspond to your pattern of a lady." Dorothea looked straight before her, and spoke with cold brusquerie, very much with the air of a handsome boy, in amusing contrast with the solicitous amiability of her admirer.
was at the tea-table
said Sir James, in a tender tone of remonstrance
Mr. Cassaubon had come up to the table, tea-cup in hand, and was listening.
he interposed, in his measured way.
the balanced, sing-song neatness of his speech, occasionally corresponded to by a movement of his head
Mr Brooke wound up, rubbing his thumb transversely along the edges of the leaves as he held the book forward.
...But now, how do you arrange your documents?"
"In pigeon holes partly," said Mr. Cassaubon, with rather a startled air of effort.
"Ah, pigeon holes will not do. I have tried pigeon-holes, but everything gets mixed in pigeon-holes: I never know whether a paper is in A or Z."
"I wish you would let me sort your papers for you, uncle," said Dorothea. "I would letter them all, and then make a list of subjects under each letter."
Mr. Cassaubon gravely smiled approval, and said to Mr Brooke," You have an excellent secretary at hand, you perceive."
"No, no," said Mr Brooke, shaking his head; "I cannot let young ladies meddle with my documents. Young ladies are too flighty."
Dorothea felt hurt. Mr. Cassaubon would think that her uncle had some special reason for delivering this opinion, whereas the remark lay in his mind as lightly as the broken wing of an insect among all the other fragments there, and a chance current had sent it alighting on her.
and in looking at her, his face was often lit up by a smile like pale wintry sunshine. Before he left the next morning, while taking a pleasant walk with Miss Brooke along the gravelled terrace he had mentioned to her...
And he delivered this statement with as much careful precision as if he had been a diplomatic enjoy whose words would be attended with results.
ordinary long-used blotting-book which only tells of forgotten writings
bridle path: a trail suitable for horseback riding
bridle-road
dissimulated by tall barricades of frizzed curls and bows
bright full eyes.
absorbing into the intensity of her mood, the solemn glory of the afternoon with its long swathes of light between the far-off rows of limes, whose shadows touched each other.
the disadvantages of the short-waisted swallow-tail
hemmed in by enemy troops
hemmed and hawed
walled of the eyes: to roll in a dramatic manner.
to roll (one's eyes) in a dramatic manner.
He was in the least jealous of the interest with which Dorothea had looked up at Mr Cassaubon: it never occurred to him that a girl to whom he was meditating an offer of marriage could care for a dried bookworm towards fifty, except, indeed, in a religious sort of way, as for a clergyman of some distinction.
Dorothea, who had been on her bonnet and shawl, hurried along the shrubbery and across the park that she might wander through the bordering wood with no other visible companionship than that of Monk,the Great St Bernard dog, who always took care of the young ladies in their walks.
She walked briskly in the brisk air, the color rose to her cheeks, and her straw bonnet (which our contemporaries might lok at with conjectural curiosity as at an obsolete form of basket) fell a little backward. She would perhaps be hardly characterized enough if it were omitted that she wore her brown hair flatly braided and coiled behind so as to expose the outline of her head in a daring manner at a time when public feeling required the meagreness of nature to be dissimulated by tall barricades of frizzled curls and bows, never surpassed by any great race except the Feejeean.
she wore her brown hair
"How delightful to meet you, Miss Brooke," he said, raising his hat and showing his sleekly-waving blood hair.
Miss Brooke was annoyed at the interruption.
his dimpled hands were quite disagreeable.
Her temper made her colour deeply, as she turned his greeting with some haughtiness.
equivocate
Note 2
NOTAS
Raquel of the Ranch Country by Alida Malkus, 1927
Raquel of the Ranch Country by Alida Malkus, 1927
Rummaging under the dead grass and leaves she soon found the end of the pipe
dust-clogged
Climbing up above, Raquel found that under a shelving rock there was moisture.
to watch the tiny stream trickle forth—to be sucked into thirsty, heat-caked muzzles
As she rode Raquel’s eyes traveled anxiously over the plains in search of wandering stock. 
the amount she wanted in bills and gold, stowed away in a money belt about her slender waist
The pinto stood the trip very well indeed, and came daintily down the runway of the box car at the small tank stop, their last station. Georgie’s pony followed with the air of a veteran traveler.
And so on a hot day in July down the dusty little street that was Agua Prieta (which means dirty water) rode two boys who might easily have passed for natives. They were Raquel and Georgie.
They trotted out of the dusty little town and loped away across the desert with full saddle bags and light hearts.
Long alkaline stretches reached before them, stunted palms and huge Spanish daggers sped merrily behind them.
Don Martin was comfortably soothing, stretched out again in his chair, with a whiskey at his elbow.
Georgie rolled his eyes lugubriously, and heaved an eloquent groan.
He suddenly bellowed forth, and finally from the rear of the casa appeared a very ancient old woman who set about laying a table.
Again they were in the saddle—steady lope and trot and walk and lope, across burning deserts, cactus covered, with mirages unfolding on the flats before them.
Sundown brought them to a rambling hacienda, where curious, tousled heads and frightened faces peered from a dirty doorway.
An old man slept on his haunches against the wall.
Then she closed her lips with an effort and seemed alarmed that she had said so much.
green plaza, statue in the center, the deep galleried hotel covered with a profusion of scarlet roses.
There were plenty of beautiful boy faces in Mexico, soft-eyed, long-lashed.
over palm-covered mesas, through palmetto groves by streamlets shrunken with the heat
crumbling walls laden with purple bougainvillea, with creamy roses, caressed by a mellower moonlight than northern nights know.
balconied bedroom, cool linen sheets inviting rest, Raquel went dreamily over
The carven table, laden with ancient, hand-hammered silver
Don Nestor came trembling up the little flight of stairs that gave upon the court yard, knocking at their doors. He was in nightshirt and cap, a candle in his hand.
They rode breathlessly through the night, up into the foothills over a rocky trail.
The heaving horses climbed
There was a short pursuit and shooting but Manuel shook it off by cutting sharply upward into the hills over this unfrequented path.
They had reached the deserted house, perched near the edge of a sharp cliff, the height of which could not be seen in the darkness.
replied Manuel courteously but firmly
Manuel spread his blanket, and made ready to lie down on the floor.
Instinctively he drew nearer Raquel.
suddenly pointing through the window to a distant hillside, where firelight flared up for a moment, then died down.
There are probably sheepmen, vaqueros, even bandits, in these hills.
Without troubling to look, he lay down in his blanket.
How long a time had passed as she slept Raquel could not have told. She became conscious of some one fumbling about her. Wrapped in that heavy torpor of first sleep, she could not move. Then hands touched her, crept about her waist. The touch brought her instantly fully awake, but an instinct kept her motionless; the hands felt for the pockets of her money belt.
A Boston Girl's Ambitions
sitting-room
The hair, coiled high on the beautiful-shaped head, and lying in large, soft rolls about the delicate temples, was heavily frosted with gray, and there were hints of wrinkles about the corners of the eyes and the firm, sweet mouth.
The ancient lady was dressed in a silver brocade of richest texture, and in the scant, stiff lines of her time.
A kerchief, whose soft, white folds, thin almost as mist, were drawn over her bosom, showed the curve of her neck and the snowy throat.
a bewitching spell must have dwelt in those sweet, gray eyes.
There was a sudden stir at the door, and Dorrice Dacres came into the room.
moonlit gravel-path
large vase of brilliant-hued flowers
she was seateed in the big wicker-chair, with the huge mastiff stretched on the rug at her feet
great gallery of fine portraits
said Dorrice, with the light which a sudden pleasure always brought up from the dark depths of her eyes.
it was his large, gary eyes that smiled upon her. 
the small, bustling, seaport town, with its narrow streets, its little gabled houses, and its old-world social atmosphere
subjoined Ray
In a moment, Dorrice said, "But though I was persecuted with a legion of names..."
Carryl made a wry face; but there was a touch of embarassment, and something deeper than that, in his laugh.
could not exchange the freedom and quiet of her own home, for the gay crowds, the confined rooms, and the daily excitements, of the summer-resorts
To Dorrice's healthy organization of soul and body frequent changes of scene and climate were not essential; and, with all her delight in shore and mountain scenery, she did not hanker for these, so long as there was a chance of seeing Carryl each day.
eager for some of the former life and brightness in the silent old rooms
much impressed with her first glance at the stately stone house, amid its noble grounds, as she caught sight of it from the road
As she drew nearer, 
the sultry heats had passed, and though the days were bathed in rich, sunny atmospheres, these held also the first fine, bracing tonic of the autumn.
The sky was a deep, shining, mysterious azure, unlike all other azures of the year.
It had a calm, brooding peace.
impossible to gaze on it and not think of heaven
the wide land, green with that last rich, dazzling green, just before the frosts steal in, and illuminate it with more than the glory of sunrise and sunset.
Eight Cousins by Louisa M. Alcott
odd nooks
Windows broke out in unexpected places, little balconies overhung the garden most romantically
pink satin hats and tiny hose
till her aunt caught her wiping tears away with the train of a wedding-dress, and that discovery put an end to the sewing society.
heavy-eyed and listless
cooking-stove, and Aunt Peace petted her like a poodle.
Bad weather and a cold kept her in-doors
she spent most of her time in the library where her father's books were stored
a sound broke the stillness, making her prick up her ears
Running down the long hall, she peeped out at both doors, but saw nothing feathered except a draggle-tailed chicken under a burdock leaf
following the changeful song, it led her to the china-closet door
girl in a blue apron scrubbing the hearth
answered the girl, looking up with a twinkle in her black eyes
And Rose crept through the slide to the wide shelf on the other side, being too hurried and puzzled to go round by the door.
crossed her feet on the little island of carpet
bobolink singing and swinging among the meadow grass on a bright June day
watched with interest the scattering of dabs of soft soap over the bricks
asked Phebe, looking up at her guest and wondering how life could be dull to a girl who wore a silk frock, a daintily frilled apron, a pretty locket, and had her hair tied up with a velvet snood.
For a minute there was no sound in the kitchen but the little daughter's sobbing and the sympathetic patter of the rain. Phebe stopped rattling her beans from one pan to another, and her eyes were full of pity as they rested on the curly head bent down on Rose's knee, for she saw that the heart under the pretty locket ached with its loss, and the dainty apron was used to dry sadder tears than any she had ever shed.
brown calico gown and blue-checked pinafore
Phebe's last words made Rose smile in spite of her tears, and she looked out from behind her apron with an April face, saying in a tone of comic distress,
“That's one of my troubles! I've got six aunts, and they all want me, and I don't know any of them very well. Papa named this place the Aunt-hill, and now I see why.”
“I do hope it isn't Aunt Myra; she always scares me out of my wits asking how my cough is, and groaning over me as if I was going to die,” said Rose, preparing to retire the way she came, for the slide, being cut for the admission of bouncing Christmas turkeys and puddings, was plenty large enough for a slender girl.
growled Debby, who thought it her duty to snub children on all occasions.
Rose scrambled into the china-closet as rapidly as possible, and there refreshed herself by making faces at Debby, while she settled her plumage and screwed up her courage. Then she crept softly down the hall and peeped into the parlor.
So she skipped boldly through the half-open folding-doors, to behold on the other side a sight that nearly took her breath away. § Seven boys stood in a row all ages, all sizes, all yellow-haired and blue-eyed, all in full Scotch costume, and all smiling, nodding, and saying as with one voice, “How are you, cousin?”
Rose hastily retired to the shelter of a big chair and sat there watching the invaders and wondering when her aunt would come and rescue her.
As if bound to do their duty manfully, yet rather oppressed by it, each lad paused beside her chair in his wanderings, made a brief remark, received a still briefer answer, and then sheered off with a relieved expression.
Russian essays and stories by Maurice Baring, 1908
In Central Russia there is a bite in the morning air, a smell of smoke, of damp leaves, of moist brown earth, and a haze hangs before the p. 58tattered trees, which are generously splashed with crimson and gold.
At last the monk said that everybody attacked him and
September 7, 2025
Note 1
Russian essays and stories by Maurice Baring, 1908
Browning was a writer who was all sound and no sense, a victim to a fatal fluency and an incredible facility of expression
saugrenu
the ground is littered with straw
the great column of smoke mixed with flame issuing from the furnace
a stone building with a Doric portico consisting of four red columns, a white pediment, a circular pale green roof, and a Byzantine minaret
wooden log-built cottages thatched with straw dotted over a rolling plain
The plain was variegated with woods—oak trees and birch being their principal trees—and stretched out infinitely into the blue distance.
It was Wednesday, the day of the bazaar. The bazaar in the village is the mart, where the buying and selling of meat, provisions, fruit, melons, fish, hardware, ironmongery, china, and books are conducted.
dressed in stiff robes of green and gold
as they walked they intoned a plain song
The peasants gathered round in a semicircle with bare heads and joined in the service, making countless genuflexions and signs of the cross, and joining in the song with their deep bass voices.
There was Wotan in a blue shirt, with a spear; and Alberic, with a grimy face and a hammer, was meddling with the furnace, and Siegfried, in leather boots and sheepskin, was smoking a cigarette and waving an enormous hammer, while Mimi, whining and disagreeable as usual, was having his head smacked.
barefooted children with straw-coloured hair and blue eyes running about everywhere
And the bell was born. I hope the silver rouble which I threw into it, and which now forms a part of it, will sweeten its utterance, and that it may never have to sound the alarm which signifies battle, murder, and sudden death.
LAST night I went to see my old friend Dimitri Nikolaievitch A⸺. I found him, as usual, in the little den which he shares with a bullfinch, a lizard, and a fox terrier on the sixth floor of a huge sordid barrack. As usual, he was smoking, and there was a lack of buttons on his coat.
If a man dislikes Shakespeare he feels it incumbent on himself to proclaim the fact on the housetops, p. 99as though it were a great discovery, oblivious of the fact that people and literature are like a Seidlitz powder, the man must have the complementary blue powder which when mixed with the white powder of the book produces a fizzing combustion in a glass of water. Count Tolstoi being without the blue powder that makes Shakespeare fizz for him has to write a book in which he explains that Shakespeare knows nothing of human nature and could not draw a living character. This does not damage Shakespeare’s reputation as a playwright, but it destroys Count Tolstoi’s reputation as a critic. Byron produces the same effect; people who dislike Byron get very angry if one says that he is a great poet, and quote you a long list of the errors in syntax which are to be found in his works. Now, the reason I want to talk about Byron is that being a foreigner and living far off from the literary fashions of London, far from the catchwords and quarrels of cliques and coteries
To judge Byron by the standard of Tennyson is like criticising Michael Angelo by the standard of Benvenuto Cellini.
obiter dicta
“Read all that Goethe says about Byron in ‘Eckerman,’ not merely the oft-quoted phrases of his being the greatest genius of the nineteenth century, but all his obiter dicta with regard to Byron, and you will be struck by their profound wisdom and incredible acuteness.
thundershower
it is impossible to read it without being convinced that the man who wrote it was more than a ‘clever man.’ He was a poet. He was a great poet. Because to have said—
‘his eyes
Were with his heart, and that was far away,’
in this connection signifies that he had the gift by the use of the simplest possible and most ordinary words of piercing the heart and brain with the divine stab which only great poetry can inflict.
“Other poets can do other things. But because Virgil and Keats touch you with a wand that produces a ravishing enchantment, because Shelley and Coleridge lift you into unimagined heavens of light and music, because Shakespeare takes your breath away by the potent magic of his phrases, that does not prove that Byron has not in his fashion achieved what is generally accepted as being one of the highest achievements of poetry: that is to say, the achievement of making style disappear and of knocking you on the head with poetry made out of the language of every day.
grand comme le monde
But to do justice to Byron one must take a deep draught of his foaming beverage, and to refresh your memory just listen to these stanzas. Don’t stop to pause and criticise line by line, but drink the whole thing in at a draught
??????? the French ideals of stagecraft, of the “well-made” play, which produced the skill of Scribe, the ingenuity of Sardou, the logic of Alexandre Dumas fils
In France there was likewise a revolt against the “well-made” play, and dramatists of the naturalist school gave to the public what they called “slices of life,” which in its turn produced a reaction towards romanticism and artificial comedy.
??????? But in spite of the various phases of Scribisme and naturalism, and in spite of the fact that the Scribe-Sardou tradition has been thrown to the winds, certain ideals belonging to this school remain in the modern French stage, namely, the necessity of “situations,” or of fundamental theses to be worked out logically, which cause many modern French plays to resemble mathematical problems.
the modern French play à thèse goes back for its machinery to the old ideal of the well-made play; that is to say, the wine is new, but the skins are old.
!!!!!!!!! The Russian stage simply aims at one thing—to depict everyday life; not exclusively the brutality of everyday life, nor the tremendous catastrophes befalling human beings; nor to devise intricate problems and far-fetched cases of conscience in which human beings might possibly be entangled. It simply aims at presenting glimpses of human beings as they really are, and by means of such glimpses it opens out avenues and vistas on to their lives. The Russian stage, therefore is like the Russian novel, realistic because it is a reflection of life, and it is unlike the French naturalist novel or naturalist play because these two things never reproduced life as it is, but portions only of life exaggerated and magnified by the fantastic vision of men of talent who were sometimes men of genius. The reflection of anybody who has some experience of the stage, on reading this will, I imagine, be the following: The everyday life of ordinary human beings can be reflected in a novel, but not on the stage, which demands the observation of certain conventions and the presence of certain cardinal factors such as dramatic interest, the conflict of wills, etc., which are indispensable to the acted drama. Moreover, the public goes to the theatre to be amused, and the faithful photography of everyday life cannot be amusing; the public wishes to forget everyday life, and to find on the stage that which in everyday life is not predominant. Well, the Russian stage has proved that these two contentions are not necessarily true. Excellent plays can be written on the basis of strong situations, but the Russian playwrights have proved that excellent plays can be written in which the situations are neither more nor less dramatic than those which occur every day before our eyes among our immediate circle of acquaintance. They have also proved another thing—that the public finds this kind of play interesting in the extreme and flocks to see it; and this leads one to conclude that the secret of the matter lies possibly in the fact that these plays are true pictures of life, and not would-be pictures of life which are in reality false, and that the former cannot help being interesting, and the latter cannot help being tedious. I believe that plays written about real life, in which the characters live and behave as they do in reality, would be not only interesting but successful in any country. However that may be, the fact remains that the modern Russian play consists of a series of pictures of everyday life faithfully depicted, without any research of special theses or situations more theatrical than those which everyday life abundantly affords, and that these plays are successful. They make money. A cosmopolitan traveller once said to me that he could no longer sit through a modern French play of the type of Le Dédale or plays such as M. Bernstein writes, because he found them so intolerably artificial, and this was because he had seen many Russian plays, of which the pre-eminent characteristics were reality and naturalness. This being so it is easy to understand that Russian plays form an exceedingly interesting commentary, an illuminating “abstract and brief chronicle” of the Russian life of to-day.
⸺
sidelights:
a light placed at the side of something:"a designer village with sidelights along the pathways"BRITISH ENGLISHa small light on either side of the front of a motor vehicle, used in poor light when full headlights are not required.
wall light(sidelights)a ship's navigation lights.natural light coming from the side:"through the window blazed the cold light of winter morning; sidelight, the most harsh"a narrow window or pane of glass set alongside a door or larger window:"we added French doors with sidelights and a fanlight overhead"a piece of incidental information that helps to clarify or enliven a subject:"one has to wade through pages of extraneous material in order to discover these sidelights on the management of an estate"
Middlemarch by George Eliot (1871)
taken in the scent of a fresh bouquet after a dry, hot, dreary walk
sat down in his arm-chair, stretched his legs towards the wood-fire... and rubbed his hands gently.
closed her pamphlet... and rose as if to go.
She threw off her mantle and bonnet, and sat down opposite to him, enjoying the glow, but lifting up her beautiful hands for a screen. They were not thin hands, or small hands; but powerful, feminine, maternal hands.
Dorothea's brow took an expression of reprobation and pity.
said Mr Brooke, with a quiet nod.
little buried in books
said Dorothea, energetically
said Mr Brooke, without showing any surprise, or other emotion.
Since Dorothea did not speak immediately, he repeated, "I thought it better to tell you, my dear."
said Dorothea, in a clear unwavering tone
Mr Brooke pausde a little, and then said in a lingering low tone,
during which he pushed about various objects on his writing-table, and finally stood with his back to the fire, his glasses on his nose, looking at the address of Dorothea's letter
Mr Brooke threw his head and shoulders backward as if some one has thrown a light missle at him.
her eyes following the same direction as her uncle's
It seemed as if something like the reflection of a white sunlit wing has passed across her features, ending in one of her rare blushes.
really startled at the suspicion which had darted into her mind
The day was damp, and they were not going to walk out, so they both went up to their sitting-room; and there Celia observed that Dorothea, instead of settling down with her usual diligent interest to some occupation, simply leaned her elbow on an open book and looked out of the window at the great cedar silvered with the damp.
Celia's small and rather guttural voice speaking in its usual tone, of a remark aside or a "by the by."
When she spoke there was a tear gathering.
There as something funereal in the whole affair..
I have been little disposed to gather flowers that would wither in my hand, but now I shall pluck them with eagerness, to place them in your bosom."
vouchsafed
Mr. s
damp-silvered cedar
damp-silvered smile
September 24, 2025
Note 1
## !-NOTAS-!
A Boston Girl's Ambitions
Man and Nature
Youth's Companion
The Railway Children
A Boston Girl's Ambitions
Sometimes she caught a whiff of syringas and lilacs.
The great, solemn-faced moon looked on her through the twisted boughs and tremulous leaves of the gnarled pear-tree. She sat down, at last, on a low seat by the window, and leaned her head forward on the sill. Bits of moonlight glimmered about the small, dark head. She heard a hum of voices below, and occasionally a man's full, deep-chested laugh. Bt at last the sounds grew faint, as did the scent of the syringas. When she awoke...
Travels Through North and South Carolina
the wide ocean, which, a few moments past, was gentle and placid, is now thrown into disorder, and heaped into mountains, whole white curling crests seem to sweep the skies
This furious gale continued near two days and nights, and not a little damaged our fails, cabin furniture, and state-rooms, besides retarding our passage.
He got into Charleston that evening, and we the next morning, about eleven o'clock.
the gentle moon rising in dignity from the east, attended by thousands of glittering orbs;
the mighty whale, sovereign of the watery realms, who cleaves the seas in his course
The surface and vegetable mould here is generally a loose sand, not very fertile, except some spots bordering on the sound and inlets.
These seashells, through length of time, and the subtle penetrating effects of the air, which dissolve them to earth, render these ridges very fertile; and, when clear of the their trees, and cultivated, they become profusely productive of almost every kind of vegetable.
Caterby's ground doves... cooing
settled in this fruitful district
and on the verges of the canals, where the road was causwayed
The tempest being over, I waited till the floods of rain had run off the ground, then took leave of my friends, and departed. The air was now cool and salubrious, and riding seven or eight miles, through a pine forest, I came to Sapello bridge, to which the salt tide flows. 
their tops and verges stained with a rose-red, which, at a little distance, has the appearance of clusters of roses, at the extremities of the limbs
The leaves are oblong, lanceolate and entire, somewhat hoary underneath; their upper furface of a full green, and shining...
The sudden transition from rich cultivated settlements, to high pine forests, dark and grassy savannas...
Man and Nature
Vast forests have disappeared from mountain spurs and ridges...
the soil of the alpine pastures which skirted and indented the woods
Youth's Companion
If the wind whisks off a man's hat and gives him a long chase for its recovery, does he expect or get any sympathy?
Yesterday morning, as an old colored man was coming down town, the wind, in a frolicsome mood, blew his hat high in air and deposited it inside of the high iron picket fence of the old Franklin school-house.
with his head powdered with dust
good beef and mutton
The man threw off his bonnet.
white-headed hornet darted off
the hornets speedily fell upon her
milk-pail
The Railway Children
an ordinary red-brick-fronted villa, with coloured glass in the front door, a tiled passage that was called a hall, a bath-room with hot and cold water, electric bells, French windows, and a good deal of white paint
December 27, 2025
The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone
germinal heat
worldling (came from searching earthling)
serried
annunciation
pain-fraught
He decided that he would carve Mary at the moment of decision, while suckling her infant, when, knowing all, she must determine the future: for herself; for her child; for the world.
Mary would dominate the marble.
secondary; present, vitally alive, but in no way distracting
The figure of Mary could be a composite of these strong Tuscan mothers.
He poured water on it to look for cracks, struck its ends with a hammer to listen for its sounds, tested for flaws, bubbles, stains.
The block was as though translucent.
eyes pierced through... through the built-up layers of crystals compounded within its structural unity