To Do List

• Moby Dick
• Watt
• Laundry
• Short Story draft - 1

St. George and The Dragon

To Do List

• Moby Dick
• Watt
• Clean Room - Saturday

To Do List

• I94 sign
• EE110 Final
• EE221L Grading
• EE110 Grading

To Do List

• I94
• EE110 Quiz 4
• EE110 Final Exam
• Grading EE221L
• EE110 Assignment 3 print out

To Do List

• Tax Call
• Bank Call
• Grading
• EE110 Quiz
• EE110 Lav Grading

Parade's End - pg. 6

During Tietjen's late trouble -- for four months before Tietjens' wife had left him to go abroad with another man -- Macmaster had filled a place that no other man could have filled. For the basis of Christopher Tietjens' emotional existence was a complete taciturnity -- at any rate to his emotions. As Tietjens' saw the world, you didn't "talk". Perhaps you didn't even think about how you felt.

Parade's End - Opening

Some Do Not...

Part One

THE TWO YOUNG MEN -- they were of the English public official class -- sat in the perfectly appointed railway carriage. The leather straps to the windows were of virgin newness; the mirrors beneath the new luggage racks immaculate as if they had reflected very little; the bulging upholstery in its luxuriant, regulated curves was scarlet and yellow in an intricate, minute dragon pattern, the design of a geometrician in Cologne. The compartment smelt faintly, hygenically of admirable varnish; the train ran as smoothly -- Tietjens remembered thinking -- as British gilt-edged securities. It travelled fast; yet had it swayed or jolted over the rail joints, except at the curve before Tonbridge or over the points at Ashford where these eccentricities are expected and allowed for, Macmaster, Tietjens felt certain, would have written to the company. Perhaps he would even have written to the Times.

The individual volumes of Parade's End were first published in Great Britain by Duckworth & Co. in 1924, 1925, 1926, 1928.

This edition published in Great Britain in 1997 by

Carcanet Press Limited

4th Floor, Conavon Court

12-16 Blackfriars Street

Manchester M3 5BQ

Text copyright Janice Biala 1924, 1925, 1926, 1928

Afterword copyright Gerald Hammond 1997

All rights reserved.

A CIP catalogue record for this book

is available from the British Library.

The publisher acknowledges financial assitance from the Arts Council of England.

Printed and bound in England by SRP Ltd, Exeter.

To Do List

• Grading EE221, EE110
• Gerogia Southern Training
• Tax Call
• Bank Call
• Buy Pillows

To Do List

• EE110 Midterm
• EE110 Assignment
• tax call
• bank call

Moby Dick - pg. 444

It does seem to me, that herein we see the rare virtue of a strong individual vitality, and the rare virtue of thick walls, and the rare virtue of interior spaciousness. Oh man! admire and model thyself after the whale! Do thou!, too, remain warm among ice. Do thou, too, live in this world without being of it. Be cool at the equator, keep thy blood fluid at the Pole. Like the great dome of St. Peters, and like the great whale, retain, O man! in all seasons a temperature of thine own.

But how easy and how hopeless to teach these fine things! Of erections, how few are domed like St. Peter's! of creatures, how few vast as the whale! 

Moby Dick - pg. 427

"Your woraciousness, fellow-critters, I don't blame ye so much for; dat is natur, and can't be helped; but to gobern dat wicked natur, dat is de pint. You is sharks, sartin; but if you gobern de shark in you, why den you be angel; for all angel is not'ing more dan de shark well goberned. Now, look here, bred'ren, just try wonst to be cibil, a helping yoursebls from dat whale. Don't be tearin' de blubber out your neighbour's mout, I say. Is not one shark dood right as toder to dat whale? And, by Gor, none on you has de right to dat whale; dat whale belong to some one else. I know some o' you has berry brig mout, brigger dan oders; but den de brig mouts sometimes has de small bellies; so dat de brigness ob de mout is not to swallar wid, but to bite off de blubber for de small fry ob sharks, dat can't get into de scourge to help demselves.

Moby Dick - pg. 424

Though amid all the smoking horror and diabolism of a seafight, sharks will be seen longingly gazing up to the ship's decks, like hungr dogs round a table where red meat is being carved, ready to bolt down every killed man that is tossed to them; and though, while the valiant butchers over the deck-table are thus cannibally carving each other's live meat with carving-knives all gilded and tasselled, the sharks, also, with their jewel-hilted mouths, are quarrelsomely carving away under the table at the dead meat; and though, were you to turn the whole affair upside down, it would still bbe pretty much the same thing,  that is to say, a shocking sharkish business enough for all parties; and though sharks also are the invariable outriders of all slave ships crossing the Atlantic, systematically trotting alongside, to be handy in case a parcel is to be carried anywhere, ot a dead slave to be decently buried; and though one or two other like instances might be set down, touching the set terms, places, and occasions, when sharks do most socialy congregate, and most hilariously feast; yet is there no conceivable time or occasion when you will find them in such countless numbers, and in gayer or more jovial spirits, than around a dead Sperm Whale, moored by night to a whale-ship at sea. If you have never seen that sight, then suspend your decision about the propriety of devil-worship, and the expediency of conciliating the devil.

To Do List

• ee221 midterm print out
• ee110 midterm prep
• report for stephanie
• 600 Moby Dick
• 50 Watt

To Do List

• Circuits Course Assignment
• Cicuits Lab Grading, Course Review
• Watt
• Moby Dick

Ted G

The story here sneaks up on you. Almost nothing is predictable. It starts slowly, and then bam. It goes off in an unexpected direction. The interesting narrative device here is that we follow her and discover things as she does. But she knows things, many things, that we do not. She does get surprised as we do, but not always so. At the end, she is allowed to write the future, for her lover at any rate.

To Do List

• fiber optics review
• moby dick
• instrumentation lab review
• bs degree copy

Moby Dick - pg. 414

The red tide was now poured from all sides of the monster like brooks down a hill. His tormented body rolled not in brine but in blood, which bubbled and seethed for furlongs behind in their wake. The slanting sun playing upon this crimson pond in the sea, sent back its reflection into every face, so that they all glowed to each other lik red men. And all the while, jet after jet of white smoke was agonizingly shot from the spiracle of the whale, and vehement puff after puff from the mouth of the excited headsman; as at every dart, hauling in upon his crooked lance (by the line attached to it), Stubb straightened it again and again, by a few rapid blows against the gunwale, then again and again sent it into the whale.

Moby Dick - pg. 408

Again: as the profound calm which only apparently precedes and prophesies of the storm, is perhaps more awful than the storm itself; for, indeed, the calm is but the wrapper and envelope of the storm; and contains it in itself, as the seemingly harmless rifle holds the fatal powder, and the ball, and the explosion; so the graceful repose of the line, as it silently serpentines about the oarsmen before being brought into actual play -- this is a thing which carries more of true terror than any other aspect of this dangerous affair. But why say more? All men live enveloped in whale-lines. All are born with halters round their necks; but it is only when caught int he swift, sudden turn of death, that mortals realize the silent, subtle, ever-present perils of life. And if you be a philosopher, though seated in the whale-boat, you would not at heart fell one whit more of terror, than though seated before your evening fire with a poker, and not a harpoon, by your side.

Moby Dick - pg. 399

Consider the subtleness of the sea; how its most dreaded creatures glide under water, unapparent for the most part, and treacherously hidden beneath the loveliest tints of azure. Consider also the devilish brilliance and beauty of many of its most remorseless tribes, as the dainty embellished shape of many species of sharks. Consider, once more, the universal cannibalism of the sea; all whose creatures prey upon each other, carrying on eternal war since the world began.

Consider all this; and then turn to this green, gentle, and most docile earth; consider them both, the sea and the land; and do you not find a strange analogy to something in yourself? For as this appalling ocean surrounds the verdant land, so in the soul of man there lies one insular Tahiti, full of peace and joy, but encompassed by all the horrors of the half known life. God keep thee! Puch not off from that isle, thou canst never return!

Moby Dick - pg. 393

Long exile from Christendom and civilization inevitably restores a man to that condition in which God placed him, i.e. what is called savagery. Your true whale-hunter is as much a savage as an Iroqois. I myself am a savage, owing no allegiance but to the King of the Cannibals; and ready at any moment to rebel against him.

Moby Dick - pg. 388

Who Garney the painter is, or was, I know not. But my life for it he was either practically conversant with his subject, or else marvellously tutored by some experienced whaleman. The French are the lads for painting action. Go and gaze upon all the paintings of Europe, and where will you find such a gallery of living and breathing commotion on canvas, as in that triumphal hall at Versailles; where the beholder fights his way, pell-mell, through the consecutive great battles of France; where every sword seems a flash of the Northern Lights, and the successive armed kings and Emperors dash by, like a charge of crowned centaurs? Not wholly unworthy of a place in that gallery, are these sea battle-pieces of Garnery.

Moby Dick - pg. 362

"For three hundred and sixty miles, gentlemen, through the entire breadth of the state of New York; through numerous populous cities and most thriving villages; through long, dismal uninhabited swamps, and affluent, cultivated fields, unrivalled for fertility; by billiard-room and bar-room; though the holy-of-holies of great forests; on Roman arches over Indian rivers; through sun and shade; by happy hearts or broken; through all the wide contrasting scenery of those noble Mohawk counties; and especially, by rows of snow-white chapels, whose spires stand almost like milestones, flows one continual stream of Venentianly corrpt and lawles life. There's your true Ashantee, gentlemen; there howl your pagans; where you ever find them, next door to you; under the long-flung shadow,  and the snug patronizing lee of churches. For by some curious fatality, as it is often noted of your metropolitan freebooters that they ever encamp around the halls of justice, so sinners, gentlemen, most abound in holiest vicinities.

stuck inside of mobile with the memphis blles again

Oh, the ragman draws circles
Up and down the block.
I'd ask him what the matter was
But I know that he don't talk.
And the ladies treat me kindly
And furnish me with tape,
But deep inside my heart
I know I can't escape.
Oh, Mama, can this really be the end,
To be stuck inside of Mobile
With the Memphis blues again.

Well, Shakespeare, he's in the alley
With his pointed shoes and his bells,
Speaking to some French girl,
Who says she knows me well.
And I would send a message
To find out if she's talked,
But the post office has been stolen
And the mailbox is locked.
Oh, Mama, can this really be the end,
To be stuck inside of Mobile
With the Memphis blues again.

Mona tried to tell me
To stay away from the train line.
She said that all the railroad men
Just drink up your blood like wine.
An' I said, "Oh, I didn't know that,
But then again, there's only one I've met
An' he just smoked my eyelids
An' punched my cigarette."
Oh, Mama, can this really be the end,
To be stuck inside of Mobile
With the Memphis blues again.

Grandpa died last week
And now he's buried in the rocks,
But everybody still talks about
How badly they were shocked.
But me, I expected it to happen,
I knew he'd lost control
When he built a fire on Main Street
And shot it full of holes.
Oh, Mama, can this really be the end,
To be stuck inside of Mobile
With the Memphis blues again.

Now the senator came down here
Showing ev'ryone his gun,
Handing out free tickets
To the wedding of his son.
An' me, I nearly got busted
An' wouldn't it be my luck
To get caught without a ticket
And be discovered beneath a truck.
Oh, Mama, can this really be the end,
To be stuck inside of Mobile
With the Memphis blues again.

Now the preacher looked so baffled
When I asked him why he dressed
With twenty pounds of headlines
Stapled to his chest.
But he cursed me when I proved it to him,
Then I whispered, "Not even you can hide.
You see, you're just like me,
I hope you're satisfied."
Oh, Mama, can this really be the end,
To be stuck inside of Mobile
With the Memphis blues again.

Now the rainman gave me two cures,
Then he said, "Jump right in."
The one was Texas medicine,
The other was just railroad gin.
An' like a fool I mixed them
An' it strangled up my mind,
An' now people just get uglier
An' I have no sense of time.
Oh, Mama, can this really be the end,
To be stuck inside of Mobile
With the Memphis blues again.

When Ruthie says come see her
In her honky-tonk lagoon,
Where I can watch her waltz for free
'Neath her Panamanian moon.
An' I say, "Aw come on now,
You must know about my debutante."
An' she says, "Your debutante just knows what you need
But I know what you want."
Oh, Mama, can this really be the end,
To be stuck inside of Mobile
With the Memphis blues again.

Now the bricks lay on Grand Street
Where the neon madmen climb.
They all fall there so perfectly,
It all seems so well timed.
An' here I sit so patiently
Waiting to find out what price
You have to pay to get out of
Going through all these things twice.
Oh, Mama, can this really be the end,
To be stuck inside of Mobile
With the Memphis blues again.

Watt - Opening

Mr. Hackett turned the corner and saw, in the failing light, at some little distance, his seat. It seemed to be occupied. This seat, the prperty very likely of the municipality, or of the public, was of course not his, but he thought of it as his. This was Mr. Hackett's attitude towards things thaat pleased him. He knew they were not his, but he thought of them as his. He knew they were not his, because they pleased him.

All Rights Reserved

Originally published by The Olympis Press, Paris, 1953

First American Edition published 1959

Tenth Printing

No part of this book may be reproduced, for any reason, by any means, including anymethod of photographic reproduction, without the permission of the publisher.

MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Distributed By Random House, INC., New York

To Do List

• Lab session
• Moby Dick
• Hume's Treatise

The Secret Life of Ford Madox Ford

1. STOP STOP SIX

Livid sweet undies drawl

Elevate

So do we squeal sporty ritual

Once a great kiss sin tells

Dance is night

Later away training melodies dances rues

Latent traveler on light

Lays tense on all day silky past far deportment

Says your songs tombs surely rail

You arrest my faculties, you person  .................... knees descend

On her part

Like rain occurs missing the whole point so he tired

She would say her little ditty of soul yes

She would say that her circuitous panties descend their

.................. first voyage

Her rear less a dress

This I can't defeat ........ This stone slays me

I go and do that to her

Her lap opens kisses its tune foils this hurt

Dance of energy

They did bounce her

Her rule was grand it twists like a boulevard

To Do List

• Quiz
• VCU Library
• carytown

How It Is - Closing

alone in the mud yes the dark yes sure yes panting yes someone hears me no one hears me no murmuring sometimes yes when the panting stops yes not at other times no in the mud yes to the mud yes my voice yes mine yes not another's no mine alone yes sure yes when the panting stops yes on and off yes a few words yes a few scraps yes that no one hears no but less and less no answer LESS AND LESS yes

so things may change no answer end no answer I may choke no answer sink no answer sully the mud no more no answer the dark no answer die no answer DIE screams I MAY DIE screams I SHALL DIE screams good

good good end at last of part three and last that's how it was end of quotation after Pim how it is

How It Is - pg. 139

and this life in the dark and mud its joys and sorrows journeys intimacies and abandons as with a single voice perpetually broken now one half of us and now the other we exhale it pretty much the same as the one he had devised

and of which untiringly every twenty or forty years according to certain of our figures he recalls to our abandoned the essential features

and this anonymous voice self-styled quaqua the voice of us all that was without on all sides then in us when the panting stops bits and scraps barely audible certainly distorted there it is at last the voice of him who before listening to us murmur what we are tells us what we are as best he can

How It Is - pg. 138

and to whom given our number not unreasonable to attribute exceptional powers or else at his beck assistants innumerable and to whom in pursuance of the principle of parsimony not excessive at times ten seconds fifteen seconds to assign the ear which Kram eliminated our murmur demands otherwsie desert flower

How It Is - pg. 137

such an acervation of sacks at the very outset that all progress impossible and no sooner imparted to the caravan the unthinkable first impulsion than arrested for ever and frozen in injustice

then from left to right or west to east the atrocious spectacle on into the black night of boundless futurity of the abandoned tormentor never to be victim then a little space then his brief journey done prostrate at the foot of a mountain of provisions the victim never to be tormentor then a great space then another abandoned and so on infinitely

How It Is - pg. 132

the fuck who suffers who makes to suffer who cries who to be left in peace in the dark the mud gibbers ten seconds fifteen seconds of sun clouds earth sea patches of blue clear nights and of a creature if not still standing still capable of standing always the same imagination spent looking for a hole that he may be seen no more in the middle of this faery who drinks that drop of piss of being and who with his last gasp pisses it to drink the moment it's someone each in his turn as our justice wills and never any end it wills that too all dead or none

How It Is - pg. 124

and that there be never offered to the eyes of

of whom

of him in charge of the sacks

to his eyes the spectacle on the one hand of a single one among us towards whom no one ever goes and on the other of a single other who never goes towards anyone it would be an injustice and that is above in the light

in other words in simple words I quote on either I am alone and no further problem or else we are innumerable and no further problem either

save that of conceiving but no doubt it can be done a procession in a straight line with neither head nor tail in the dark the mud with all the various infinitudes that such a conception involves

nothing to be done in any case we have our being in justice I have never heard anything to the contrary

with that of a slowness difficult to conceive the procession we are talking of a procession advancing in jerks or spasms like shit in the guts till one wonders days of great gaiety if we shall not end one after another or two by two by being shat into the open air the light of day the regimen of grace

a slowness of which figures alone however arbitrary can give a feeble idea

To Do List

• Lab 4
• section excel sheets
• lunch
• opt card scan
• moby dick

Summer: June-September

• Sanskrit
• Persian
• Contemporary Indian History
• Hume, Kant, Aristotle, Wittgenstein
• Upanishads
• Ramayana
• Contemporary Hindi Poetry

A Treatise Of Human Nature - Opening

PART I

OF PRIDE AND HUMILITY

SECTION I

DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT

As all the perceptions of the mind may be divided into impressions and ideas, so the impressions admit of another division into original and secondary. This division of the impressions is the same with that which I formerly made use of when I distinguished them into impression of sensation and reflection.

INTRODUCTION BY

A. D. LINDSAY

DENT: LONDON

EVERYMAN'SLIBRARY

DUTTON: NEW YORK

How It Is - pg. 85

all  longitudes

what men all colours black to white tried them all then gave up no worse too vaggue padron pity home to native land to die in my twenties iron consstitution above in the light my life my living m aade my living tried everything building mostly it was booming all  branched plaster mostly met Pam  I think

love birth of love increase decrease death efforts to resuscitate through the arsse joint vain through the cunt anew vain jumped from window or fell broken column hospital  marguerites lies about mistletoe forgiveness

How It Is - pg. 74

God on God desperation utter confusion did he believe  he believed then n ot couldn't any more his reasons both cases my God

I pricked him how I pricked him in the endlong before  purely curiosity was he still alive thumpthump in the mudvile tears  o f unbutcherable brother

if  he heard  a voice if only that if he had ever heard  a voice voices if only I had asked him  that I couldn't I hadn't heard it yet the voice the voices no knowing surely not

Destroyer: Helena

Helena, the ramifications are very large tonight.
The stars say: "don't pick a fight, or barge things around."
See, apparently, our bloodlines are botched beyond redemption.
Luckily, you don't believe in redemption.
(This may work in your favor, I'm told.)

So throw the old furniture in the fire
as the children go barbaric behind the wire.
They're just children.

It's a drag, the way your flag had to come down, with one of the above.
America, so ferociously in bloom.
But pistols at dawn can only work for so long.
Curved appetites took flight when you decided to call the song,
"A Pacific-Northwest Bitch Gets Shown To Her Room."

So throw the old furniture in the fire
as the children go barbaric behind the wire.
They're just children.
And this one goes out, just like the one before,
to the 17th version of "How I Won the War".
"Oh! First Destroyer!
And now the Underground!"
Helena, the ramifications are very large tonight.
The stars say: "don't pick a fight, or barge things around."
Just throw the old furniture in the fire
as the children go barbaric behind the wire.
They're just children.
They're just children.
They're just children.

How It Is - pg. 48

those dragging on in front those  dragging on behind whose llot has been whose lot will be what your lot is endless cortege of sacks burst in the interests of all

or a celestial tin miraculous sardines sent ddown by God at the news of my mishap wherewith to spew him out another week

semi-side right left leg left aerm push pull flat on the face must imprecations scrabbe in the mud every half-yard eight times per chevron or three yards of headway clear a little less the hand dips clawing for the take instead of the familiar slime an arse two cries one mute end of part one before Pim that's how it was before Pim

How It Is - pg. 45

raise the eyes look for faces in the sky animals in the sky fall asleep and there a beautiful youth meet a beautiful youth with golden goatee clad in an alb wake up in a sweat and have met Jesus in a dream

To Do List

• How It Is
• Moby Dick
• grading
• laundry

How It Is - pg. 38

quick the head in the sack where saving your reverence I have all the suffering of all the ages I don't give a curse for it and howls of laughter in every cell the tins rattle like castanets and under me convulsed the mud goes guggle-guggle I fart and piss in the same breath

blessed day last of the journey all goes without a hitch the joke dies too old the convulsions die I comeback to the open air to serious things had I only the little finger to raise to be wafted straight to Abraham's bosom I'd tell him to stick it up

How It Is - pg. 34

on the muddy belly I saw one blessed day saving the grace of Heraclitus the Obscure at the pitch of heaven's azure towering between its great black still spread wings the snowy body of I know not what frigate-bird the screaming-albatross of the southern seas the history I knew my God the natural the good moments I had

How It Is - pg. 12

others knowing nothing of my beginnings save what they could glean by hearsay or in public records nothing of my beginnings in life

others who had always known me here in my last place they talk to me of themselves of me perhaps too in the end of fleeting joys and of sorrows of empires that are born and die as though nohing had happened

To Do List

• EET110: Quiz
• EET221L Grading Submission
• EET110: Evals Printout

At Melville's Tomb

Often beneath the wave, wide from this ledge
The dice of drowned men's bones he saw bequeath
An embassy. Their numbers as he watched,
Beat on the dusty shore and were obscured.


And wrecks passed without sound of bells,
The calyx of death's bounty giving back
A scattered chapter, livid hieroglyph,
The portent wound in corridors of shells.


Then in the circuit calm of one vast coil,
Its lashings charmed and malice reconciled,
Frosted eyes there were that lifted altars;
And silent answers crept across the stars.


Compass, quadrant and sextant contrive
No farther tides . . . High in the azure steeps
Monody shall not wake the mariner.
This fabulous shadow only the sea keeps.

Books for May

• Moby Dick - Herman Melville
• How It Is - Samuel Beckett
• Upanishads
• Hopscotch - Julio Cortazar
• David Hume's Treatise

To Do List

• EE110
• Print Out Syllabus, PreTest
• Resume
• Grading

The Butchers

When he had made sure there were no survivors in his house
And that all the suitors were dead, heaped in blood and dust
Like fish that fishermen with fine-meshed nets have hauled
Up gasping for salt water, evaporating in the sunshine,
Odysseus, spattered with muck and like a lion dripping blood
From his chest and cheeks after devouring a farmer's bullock,
Ordered the disloyal housemaids to sponge down the armchairs
And tables, while Telemachos, the oxherd and the swineherd
Scraped the floor with shovels, and then between the portico
And the roundhouse stretched a hawser and hanged the women
So none touched the ground with her toes, like long-winged thrushes
Or doves trapped in a mist-net across the thicket where they roost,
Their heads bobbing in a row, their feet twitching but not for long,
And when they had dragged Melanthio's corpse into the haggard
And cut off his nose and ears and cock and balls, a dog's dinner,
Odysseus, seeing the need for whitewash and disinfectant,
Fumigated the house and the outhouses, so that Hermes
Like a clergyman might wave the supernatural baton
With which he resurrects or hypnotises those he chooses,
And waken and round up the suitor's souls, and the housemaids',
Like bats gibbering in the nooks of their mysterious cave
When out of the clusters that dangle from the rocky ceiling
One of them drops and squeaks, so their souls were bat-squeaks
As they flittered after Hermes, Their deliverer, who led them
Along the clammy sheughs, then past the oceanic streams
And the white rock, the sun's gatepost in that dreamy region,
Until they came to a bog-meadow full of bog-asphodels
Where residents are ghosts or images of the dead.

To Do List

• Tax Call
• Grading
• Sign Pages courier

Moby Dick - pg. 282

Though neither knows where lie the nameless things of which the mystic sign gives forth such hints; yet with me, as with the colt, somewhere those things must exist. Though in many of its aspects this visible world seems formed in love, the invisible speheres were formed in fright.

Moby Dick - pg. 267

The White Whale swam before him as the monomaniac incarnation of all those malicious agencies which some deep men feel eating in them, till they are left living on with half a heart and half a lung. That intangible malignity which has been from the beginning; to whose dominion even the modern  Christians ascribe one-half of the worlds; which the ancient Ophites of the east reverenced in their statue devil; -- Ahab did not fall down and worship it like them; but deliriously transferring its idea to the abhorred White Whale, he pitted himself, all mutilated  against it. All that most maddens and torments; all the stirs up the lees of things; all truth with malice in it; all the cracks the sinews and cakes the brain; all the subtle demonisms of life and thought;; all evil, to crazy Ahab, were visible personified, and made practically assailablle in Moby Dick. He piled upon the whale's white hump the sum of all the general rage and hate felt by his whole race from Adam down; and then, as if his chest had been a mortar, he burst his hot heart's shell upon it.

Moby Dick - pg. 264

Forced into familiarity, then, with such prodigies as these; and knowing that after repeated, intrepid assaults, the White Whale had escaped alive; it cannot be much matter of surprise that some whalemen should go still further in their superstitions; declaring Moby Dick not only ubiquitous, but immortal (for immortality is but ubiquity in time); that though groves of spears should be planted in his flanks, he would still swim away unharmed; or if indeed he should ever be made to spout thick blood, such a sight would be but a ghastly deception; for again in unensanguined billows hundreds of leagues away, his unsullied jet would once more be seen.

Moby Dick - pg. 260

No wonder, then, that ever gathering volume from the mere transit over the widestwatery spaces, the outblown rumors of the White Whale did in the end incorporate with themselves all manner of morbid hints, and half-formed foetal suggestions of supernatural agencies, which eventually invested Moby Dick with new terrors unborrowed from anything that visibly appears. So that in many cases such a panic did he finally strike, that few who by those rumors, at least, had heard of the White Whale, few of those hunters were willing to encounter the perils of his jaw.

Moby Dick - pg. 252

TAHITAN SAILOR [Reclining on a mat]

Hail, holy nakedness of our dancing girls! -- the Heeva Heeva! Ah! low veiled, high palmed Tahiti! I still rest  me on thy mat, but the soft soil has slid! I saw thee woven in the wood, my mat! green the first day I brought ye thence; now worn and wilted quite. Ah me! -- not thou nor I can bear the change! How then, if so be transplanted to yon sky? Hear I the roaring streams from Pirohitee's peak of spears, when they leap down the crags and drown the villages? -- The blast! the blast! Up, spine, and meet it! (Leaps to his feet.)

Moby Dick - pg. 244

MY soul is more than matched; she's overmanned; and by a madman! Insufferable sting, that sanity should ground arms on such a field! But he drilled deep down, and blasted all my reason out of me! I think I see his impious end; but feel that I must help him to it. Will I, nil I, the  ineffable thing has tied me to him; tows me with a cable I have no knife to cut. Horrible old man! Who's over him, he cries; -- aye, he would be a democrat to all above; look, how he lords it over all below! Oh! I plainly see my miserable office, -- to obey, rebelling; and worse yet, to hate with touch of pity! For in his eyes I read some lurid woe would shrivel me up, had I it. Yet is there hope. Time and tide flow wide. The hated whale has the round watery world to swim in, as the small goldfish has its glassy globe. His heaven-insulting purpose, God may wedge aside. I would up heart, were it not like lead. But my wholeclock's run down; my heart the all-controlling weight, I have no key to lift again.

Moby Dick - pg. 237

"Hark ye yet again, the little  lower layer. All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event -- in the living act, the undoubted deed -- there, some unknown butstill reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike thourhg the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometime I think there's naught beyond. But 'tis enough. He tasks me; he heaps me; I see in him outrageous strength,with an inscrutable malice sinewing it. That inscrutable is chiefly what I hate; and be the white whale agent, or be the white whale principal, I will wreak that hate upon him. Talk not to me of blasphemmy, man; I'd strike the sun if i t insulted me. For could the sun do that, then could I do the other; since  thereis ever a sort of fair play herein, jealousy presiding over all creations. But not my mmaster, man, is even that fair play. Who's over me? Truth hath no confines. Take off thine eye! more intolerable than fiends' glarings is a doltish stare! So, so; thou reddenest and palest; my head has mmelted thee to anger-glow. But look ye, Starbuck, what is said in heat, that thing unsays itself. There are men from whom warm words are small indignity. I meant not to incense thee. Let it go. Look! see yonder Turkish cheeks of spotted tawn -- living, breathing pictures painted by the  sun. The pagan leopards -- the unrecking and unworshipping things, that live; and seek, and give nor easons for the torrid life they feel! The crew, man, the crew! Are they not one and all with Ahab, in this matter of the whale? See Stubb! he laughs! See yonder Chilian! he snorts to think of it. Stand up amid the general hurricane, thy one tost sapling cannot, Starbuck! And what is it? Reckon it. 'Tis but to help strike a fin; no wondrous feat for Starbuck. What is it more? From this one poor hunt, then, the best lance out of all Nantucket, surely he will not hang back, when every foremasthand has clutched a whetstone? Ah! constrainings seize thee; I see! the billow lifts thee! Speak, but speak! -- Aye, aye! thy silence, then, that voices thee. (Aside)  Something shout from my dilated nostrils, he has inhaled in it in his lungs. Starbuck now is mine; cannot oppose me now, without rebellion."

Moby Dick - pg. 234

"Who told thee that?" cried Ahab; the pausing, "Aye, Starbuch, aye, my hearties all round; it was Moby Dick that dismasted me; Moby Dick that brought me to this dead stump I stand on now. Aye, aye." he shouted with a terrific, loud, animal sob, like that of a heart-stricken moose; "Aye, aye! it was that accursed white whale that razeed me, made a poor pegging lubber of me for ever and a day!" Then tossing both arms, with measureless imprecations he shouted out: "Aye, aye! and I'll chase him round Good Hope, and round the Horn, and round the Norway Maelstorm, and round perdition's flames before I give him up. And this is what ye have shipped for, men! to chase that white whale on both sides of land, and over all sides of earth, till he spouts black blood and rolls fin out. What say ye, men, will ye splice hands on it, now? I think ye do look brave?"

Moby Dick - pg. 231

The hours wore on; Ahab now shut up within his cabin anon, pacing the deck, with the same bigotry of purpose in his aspect.

Moby Dick - pg. 223

The three mast-heads are kept manned from sun-rise to sun-set; the seamen taking their regular turns (as at the helm), and relieving each other every two hours. In the serenee weather of tropics it is exceedingly pleasant the mast-head; nay, to a dreamy meditative man it is delightful. There you stand, a hundred feet above the silent decks, striding along the deep, as if the masts were gigantic stilts, while beneath you and between your legs, as it were, swim the hugest monsters of the sea, even as ships once sailed between the boots of the famous Colossus at old Rhodes. There you stand, lost in the infinite series of the sea, with nothing ruffled but the waves. The tranced ship indolently rolls; the drowsy trade winds blow; everything resolves you into languor. For the most part, in this tropic whaling life, a sublime uneventfulness invests you; you hear  no news; read no gazettes; extras with startling accounts of commonplaces never delude you into unnecessary excitements; you hear of no domestic afflictions; bankrupt securities; fall of stocks; are never troubled with the thought of what you shall have for dinner -- for all you meals for three years and more are snugly stowed in casks, and your bill of fare is immutable.