Name the quote - no googling thank you

[Stewbum]

'The wind sounds up here,' quoth Eugene, stirring the fire, 'as if we were keeping a lighthouse. I wish we were.'

'Don't you think it would bore us?' Lightwood asked.

'Not more than any other place. And there would be no Circuit to go. But that's a selfish consideration, personal to me.'

'And no clients to come,' added Lightwood. 'Not that that's a selfish consideration at all personal to ME.'

'If we were on an isolated rock in a stormy sea,' said Eugene, smoking with his eyes on the fire, 'Lady Tippins couldn't put off to visit us, or, better still, might put off and get swamped. People couldn't ask one to wedding breakfasts. There would be no Precedents to hammer at, except the plain-sailing Precedent of keeping the light up. It would be exciting to look out for wrecks.'

'But otherwise,' suggested Lightwood, 'there might be a degree of sameness in the life.'

'I have thought of that also,' said Eugene, as if he really had been considering the subject in its various bearings with an eye to the business; 'but it would be a defined and limited monotony. It would not extend beyond two people. Now, it's a question with me, Mortimer, whether a monotony defined with that precision and limited to that extent, might not be more endurable than the unlimited monotony of one's fellow-creatures.'

 

[veggiepatch1959]

Never heard of any of those characters but I've definitely heard of their originator.

Because I had to f**king Google it.

Sorry!! But you had me intrigued.

 

[Parra]

Based on what you are reading I'm going for Dickens. But I'm not familiar with the quote or the characters.

 

[Stewbum]

His finest work in my opinion - Our Mutual Friend. Eugene Wrayburn is part Sidney Carton, part Charles Dickens.

PS - this thread is not for monomaniacs. Add quotes....

 

[veggiepatch1959]

Based on what you are reading I'm going for Dickens. But I'm not familiar with the quote or the characters.

Good shot Parra!!

Hey Stewie, is it correct that Our Mutual Friend was Dickens' last work?

Or is my memory shorter than 18 hours?

 

[Stewbum]

Good shot Parra!!

Hey Stewie, is it correct that Our Mutual Friend was Dickens' last work?

Or is my memory shorter than 18 hours?

Last completed work, yes.

He died mid-way through The Mystery of Edwain Drood. An excellent read despite being unfinished. The BBC tv series did it justice with a finish a couple of years back.

 

[Parra]

On the 24th of February, 1815, the look-out at Notre-Dame de la Garde signalled the three-master, the Pharaon from Smyrna, Trieste, and Naples.

As usual, a pilot put off immediately, and rounding the Château d'If, got on board the vessel between Cape Morgion and Rion island.

Immediately, and according to custom, the ramparts of Fort Saint-Jean were covered with spectators; it is always an event at Marseilles for a ship to come into port, especially when this ship, like the Pharaon, has been built, rigged, and laden at the old Phocee docks, and belongs to an owner of the city.

The ship drew on and had safely passed the strait, which some volcanic shock has made between the Calasareigne and Jaros islands; had doubled Pomègue, and approached the harbor under topsails, jib, and spanker, but so slowly and sedately that the idlers, with that instinct which is the forerunner of evil, asked one another what misfortune could have happened on board. However, those experienced in navigation saw plainly that if any accident had occurred, it was not to the vessel herself, for she bore down with all the evidence of being skilfully handled, the anchor a-cockbill, the jib-boom guys already eased off, and standing by the side of the pilot, who was steering the Pharaon towards the narrow entrance of the inner port, was a young man, who, with activity and vigilant eye, watched every motion of the ship, and repeated each direction of the pilot.

The vague disquietude which prevailed among the spectators had so much affected one of the crowd that he did not await the arrival of the vessel in harbor, but jumping into a small skiff, desired to be pulled alongside the Pharaon, which he reached as she rounded into La Réserve basin.

When the young man on board saw this person approach, he left his station by the pilot, and, hat in hand, leaned over the ship's bulwarks.

He was a fine, tall, slim young fellow of eighteen or twenty, with black eyes, and hair as dark as a raven's wing; and his whole appearance bespoke that calmness and resolution peculiar to men accustomed from their cradle to contend with danger.

"Ah, is it you, Dantès?" cried the man in the skiff. "What's the matter? and why have you such an air of sadness aboard?"

"A great misfortune, M. Morrel," replied the young man,—"a great misfortune, for me especially! Off Civita Vecchia we lost our brave Captain Leclere."

 

[Stewbum]

Ok. Let's go. 1000 points to anyone who gets this. if you have no idea just enjoy it. One of the most famous books in English history. Hint: Dickens loved it.

IN an age abandoned to dissipation, and when the ties of religion and morality fail to have their accustomed influence on the mind, the publication of a New Work of his nature makes its appearance with peculiar propriety.

It has not been unusual, of late years, to complain of the sanguinary complexion of our laws; and if there were any reason to expect that the practice of felony would be lessened by the institution of any laws less sanguinary than those now in force, it
would be a good argument for the enacting of such laws.

Wise and virtuous legislators can wish nothing more ardently than the general welfare of the community; and those who have from time to time given birth to the laws of England, have indisputably done it with a view to this general welfare. But as the wisest productions of the human mind are liable to error, and as there is
visibly an increasing depravity in the manners of the age, it is no wonder that our laws are found, in some instances, inadequate to the purposes for which they were enacted: and, perhaps, if, in a few instances they were made more, and in others less severe than they are at present, the happiest consequences might result to the
public.

It is with the utmost deference to the wisdom of their superiors, that the editors of this work offer the following hints for the improvement of the police of this country, and the security of the lives and properties of the subject: and,

1stly. If his majesty would be graciously pleased to let the law operate in its full force against every convicted house-breaker, it would probably greatly lessen the number of those atrocious offenders; and consequently add to the repose of every family of property in the kingdom. What can be conceived more dreadful than a
band of ruffians drawing the curtains of the bed at midnight, and presenting the drawn dagger, and the loaded pistol? The imagination will paint the terrors of such a situation, in a light more striking than language can display them.

2dly. If the same royal prerogative was exerted for the punishment of women convicts, it would indisputably produce very happy effects. It is to the low and abandoned women that hundreds of young fellows owe their destruction. They rob, they plunder, to support these wretches. Let it not seem cruel that we make one remark, of which we are convinced experience would justify the propriety. The execution of ten women would do more public service than that of an hundred
men; for, exclusive of the force of example, it would perhaps tend to the preservation of more than an hundred.

3dly. Notorious defrauds, by gambling, or otherwise, should he rendered capital felonies by a statute; for, as the law now stands, after a temporary punishment, the common cheat is turned loose to make fresh depredations on the public.

4thly. Forgery, enormous as the crime is, in a commercial state, might perhaps be more effectually punished and prevented than at present, by dooming the convict to labour for life on board the ballast-lighters. Forgers are seldom among the low and abandoned part of mankind. Forgery is very often the last dreadful refuge to
which the distressed tradesman flies. These people then are sensible of shame, and perpetual infamy would be abundantly more terrible to such men than the mere dread of death.

5thly. Highwaymen, we conceive, might with propriety be punished by labouring on the high-way, chained by the legs, agreeable to a design we have given in a plate in this work. Many a young fellow is hardened enough to think of taking a purse on the highway, to supply his extravagancies, who would be terrified from the practice, if he
knew he could not ride half a dozen miles out of London, without seeing a number of highwaymen working together, under the ignominious circumstances above-mentioned.

With regard to murderers, and persons convicted of unnatural crimes, we cannot think of altering the present mode of punishment. 'Him that sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed:' as to the other wretches, it is highly to be lamented that their deaths cannot be aggravated by every species of torment!

Having said thus much, we submit our labours to the candid revision of the public, nothing doubting that, on a careful perusal, they will be found to answer the purpose of guarding the minds of youth against the approaches of vice; and, in consequence, of advancing the happiness of the community.

 

[Stewbum]

On the 24th of February, 1815, the look-out at Notre-Dame de la Garde signalled the three-master, the Pharaon from Smyrna, Trieste, and Naples.

As usual, a pilot put off immediately, and rounding the Château d'If, got on board the vessel between Cape Morgion and Rion island.

Immediately, and according to custom, the ramparts of Fort Saint-Jean were covered with spectators; it is always an event at Marseilles for a ship to come into port, especially when this ship, like the Pharaon, has been built, rigged, and laden at the old Phocee docks, and belongs to an owner of the city.

The ship drew on and had safely passed the strait, which some volcanic shock has made between the Calasareigne and Jaros islands; had doubled Pomègue, and approached the harbor under topsails, jib, and spanker, but so slowly and sedately that the idlers, with that instinct which is the forerunner of evil, asked one another what misfortune could have happened on board. However, those experienced in navigation saw plainly that if any accident had occurred, it was not to the vessel herself, for she bore down with all the evidence of being skilfully handled, the anchor a-cockbill, the jib-boom guys already eased off, and standing by the side of the pilot, who was steering the Pharaon towards the narrow entrance of the inner port, was a young man, who, with activity and vigilant eye, watched every motion of the ship, and repeated each direction of the pilot.

The vague disquietude which prevailed among the spectators had so much affected one of the crowd that he did not await the arrival of the vessel in harbor, but jumping into a small skiff, desired to be pulled alongside the Pharaon, which he reached as she rounded into La Réserve basin.

When the young man on board saw this person approach, he left his station by the pilot, and, hat in hand, leaned over the ship's bulwarks.

He was a fine, tall, slim young fellow of eighteen or twenty, with black eyes, and hair as dark as a raven's wing; and his whole appearance bespoke that calmness and resolution peculiar to men accustomed from their cradle to contend with danger.

"Ah, is it you, Dantès?" cried the man in the skiff. "What's the matter? and why have you such an air of sadness aboard?"

"A great misfortune, M. Morrel," replied the young man,—"a great misfortune, for me especially! Off Civita Vecchia we lost our brave Captain Leclere."

I'm going to risk making a fool of myself and say The Count of Monte Christo. I've read it but it was many years ago. It's the only French novel I've read.....Dante sounds familiar.

 

[Parra]

It is. These are the opening paragraphs - they are enough clues in these lines. Well done, figured it wasn't too hard though.,

As for that one you have posted - no idea. The first newspaper editorial ?

 

[Stewbum]

It is. These are the opening paragraphs - they are enough clues in these lines. Well done, figured it wasn't too hard though.,

As for that one you have posted - no idea. The first newspaper editorial ?

It's a famous work of non fiction by multiple authors. You might call it the first book about crime.

 

[Stewbum]

THOMAS DUN

Head of a Gang of Outlaws, on Account of whom King Henry I. is
credibly supposed to have built Dunstable. Executed Piecemeal.

THIS person was of very mean extraction, and born in a little
village between Kempston and Elstow, in Bedfordshire. It is said he
had contracted thieving so much from his childhood, that everything
he touched stuck to his fingers like birdlime, and that, the better
to carry on his villainies, he changed himself into as many shapes
as Proteus, being a man that understood the world so well -- I mean
the tricks and fallacies of it -- that there was nothing which he
could not humour, nor any part of villainy that came amiss to him.
To-day he was a merchant, on the morrow a soldier, the next day a
gentleman, and the day following a beggar. In short, he was every
day what he pleased himself. When he had committed any remarkable
roguery his usual custom was to cover his body all over with
nauseous and stinking sear cloths and ointments, and his face with
plasters, so that his own mother could not know him. He would be a
blind harper to commit one villainy, and a cripple with crutches to
bring about another; nay, he would hang artificial arms to his body.
Besides, his natural barbarity and cruel temper was such, that two
or three men together durst scarcely meet him; for one day, being
upon the road, he saw a wagoner driving his wagon full of corn to
Bedford, which was drawn by five good horses, the sight of which
inflamed him to put the driver to death; accordingly, without making
any reflection on the event, he falls on the wagoner, and with two
stabs killed him on the spot, boldly took so much time as to bury
him, not out of any compassion for the deceased, for he never had
any, but the better to conceal his design; and then, mounting the
wagon, drives it to Bedford, where he sells it, horses and all, and
marched off with the money. Dun at first thought it the best way to
commit his robberies by himself, but finding, upon trial, the method
not so safe as where they were a company together, he betook himself
to the woods, where he was soon joined by gangs of thieves as wicked
as himself. These woods served them as a retreat on all occasions,
and the caverns and hollow rocks for hiding places, from whence,
night and day, they committed a thousand villainies.

 

[Stewbum]

LORD STOURTON AND FOUR OF HIS SERVANTS

Executed 6th of March, 1556, for the Murder Of William Hartgill,
Esq., and his Son John, of Kilmington, Somerset, after an implacable
Persecution

On the 28th of February, 1556, Lord Stourton was arraigned at
Westminster Hall before the judges and several of the council. It
was long before he would answer to the charge laid against him, till
at last the Lord Chief Justice declared to him that he must be
pressed to death, according to the laws of the land, if he would not
answer; after which he made answer, and was convicted, and condemned
to be hanged, together with his four men, for the following murders.
In the reign of Edward VI., William Lord Stourton, having charge of
one of the King's places near Boulogne, died; and shortly after his
death, Charles Lord Stourton, his son and heir, went to Kilmington,
to the house of William Hartgill, Esq., where Dame Elizabeth, late
wife to Lord William and mother to the said Charles Lord Stourton,
sojourned, and earnestly persuaded William Hartgill to be a means
that Dame Elizabeth should enter into a bond to him, in a great sum
of money, that she should not marry; which the said William Hartgill
refused, unless Lord Stourton would assign some yearly portion for
his mother to live upon. In discoursing on this matter Lord
Stourton quarrelled with William Hartgill; and on Whitsunday, in the
morning, he went to Kilmington Church with several men, with bows
and arrows, and guns; and when he arrived at the church door, John
Hartgill, son of William, being told of the said Lord Stourton's
coming, went out of the church, drew his sword, and ran to his
father's house adjoining the churchyard side. Several arrows were
shot at him in passing, but he was not hurt. His father and mother
were forced to go up into the tower of the church with two or three
of their servants for safety. When John Hartgill arrived at his
father's house he took his long-bow and arrow, bent a cross bow,
charged a gun, and caused a woman to bring the cross-bow and gun
after him, and he with his long-bow came forth and drove away the
said Lord Charles and his men from the house, and from about the
church, except half-a-score that had entered the church, among whom
one was hurt in the shoulder with a hail shot.

 

[simmo1]

Pretty sure its Lord of the Rings.

 

[Stewbum]

The Newgate Calendar.

Also known as The Malefactor's Bloody Register.

Details the executions held at Newgate Prison.

 

[Parra]

Pressed to death is a sentence. You want leniency? Hanging.

Fascinating. I will have to read all of this

 

[Stewbum]

Pressed to death is a sentence. You want leniency? Hanging.

Fascinating. I will have to read all of this

It's one of a kind.

 

[Stewbum]

t was about the beginning of September, 1664, that I, among the rest of my neighbours, heard in ordinary discourse that the plague was returned again in Holland; for it had been very violent there, and
particularly at Amsterdam and Rotterdam, in the year 1663, whither, they say, it was brought, some said from Italy, others from the Levant, among some goods which were brought home by their Turkey fleet;
others said it was brought from Candia; others from Cyprus. It mattered not from whence it came; but all agreed it was come into Holland again.

We had no such thing as printed newspapers in those days to spread rumours and reports of things, and to improve them by the invention of men, as I have lived to see practised since. But such things as these
were gathered from the letters of merchants and others who corresponded abroad, and from them was handed about by word of mouth only; so that things did not spread instantly over the whole nation, as they do now. But it seems that the Government had a true account of it, and several councils were held about ways to prevent its coming over; but all was kept very private. Hence it was that this rumour died off again, and people began to forget it as a thing we were very little concerned in, and that we hoped was not true; till the
latter end of November or the beginning of December 1664 when twomen, said to be Frenchmen, died of the plague in Long Acre, or ratherat the upper end of Drury Lane. The family they were in endeavoured
to conceal it as much as possible, but as it had gotten some vent in the discourse of the neighbourhood, the Secretaries of State got knowledge of it; and concerning themselves to inquire about it, in
order to be certain of the truth, two physicians and a surgeon were ordered to go to the house and make inspection. This they did; and f nding evident tokens of the sickness upon both the bodies that were
dead, they gave their opinions publicly that they died of the plague. Whereupon it was given in to the parish clerk, and he also returned them to the Hall; and it was printed in the weekly bill of mortality in the usual manner, thus -

Plague, 2. Parishes infected, 1.

 

[Parra]

I had to cheat. Another book by Daniel Defoe I'll have to read.

 

[Parra]

“Naw. But I just can’t get used to it,” Bigger said. “I swear to God I can’t. I know I oughtn’t think about it, but I can’t help it. Every time I think about it I feel like somebody’s poking a red-hot iron down my throat. Goddammit, look! We live here and they live there. We black and they white. They got things and we ain’t. They do things and we can’t. It’s just like living in jail. Half the time I feel like I’m on the outside of the world peeping in through a knothole in the fence….”