79b4d2b
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There are very few moments in a man's existence when he experiences so much ludicrous distress, or meets with so little charitable commiseration, as when he is in pursuit of his own hat.
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victorian
disease
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Charles Dickens |
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Matt is a tortured soul,' Amanda insisted. 'He's Heathcliff and you're Cathy. He's Rochester and you're Jane Eyre. He's-' 'Darcy and I'm Elizabeth. I get it. And you're wrong.
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romance
reference
romance-novels
victorian
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Robin Brande |
a2bce5a
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"He may care for her, though she really has been almost rude to him at times. But she! - why, Margaret would never think of him, I'm sure! Such a thing has never entered her head." "Entering her heart would do."
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love
victorian
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Elizabeth Gaskell |
2ae9dd7
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Huzza for the Queen! Huzza for Old England!
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queen-victoria
victorian
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Jules Verne |
3aed24e
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The dining-room was in the good taste of the period. It was very severe. There was a high dado of white wood and a green paper on which were etchings by Whistler in neat black frames. The green curtains with their peacock design, hung in straight lines, and the green carpet, in the pattern of which pale rabbits frolicked among leafy trees, suggested the influence of William Morris. There was blue delft on the chimneypiece. At that time there must have been five hundred dining-rooms in London decorated in exactly the same manner. It was chaste, artistic, and dull.
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decorative-arts
material-culture
social-history
victorian
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W. Somerset Maugham |
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It was immediately clear that the book had been undisturbed for a very long time, perhaps even since it had been laid to rest. The librarian fetched a checked duster, and wiped away the dust, a black, thick, tenacious Victorian dust, a dust composed of smoke and fog particles accumulated before the Clean Air acts.
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library
books
dust
pollution
victorian
library-books
london
librarians
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A.S. Byatt |
e0dcfe4
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It is perhaps little wonder that the end of Victorianism almost exactly coincided with the invention of psychoanalysis.
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victorian-age
psychoanalysis
victorian-era
victorian
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Bill Bryson |
906f5c0
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[...] era un viso indimenticabile, un viso tragico. Sgorgava dolore con la stessa purezza, naturalezza e inarrestabilita con cui sgorga l'acqua da una sorgente nei boschi. Non c'era artificio in esso, ne ipocrisia, ne isterismo, ne maschera; soprattutto non c'era la minima traccia di pazzia. La pazzia era nel mare vuoto, nel vuoto orizzonte, [...]; come se la sorgente fosse stata naturale in se ma innaturale in quanto sgorgava da un deserto.
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victorian
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John Fowles |