The Works Of Nathaniel Hawthorne Passages Form The American Note Books C1883

Author : Nathaniel Hawthorne
Publisher : Theclassics.Us
ISBN 13 : 9781230860541
Total Pages : 122 pages
Book Rating : 4.8/5 (65 download)

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Download or read book Passages from the American Notebooks of Nathaniel Hawthorne written by Nathaniel Hawthorne and published by Theclassics.Us. This book was released on 2013-09 with total page 122 pages. Available in PDF, EPUB and Kindle. Book excerpt: This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1900 edition. Excerpt: ...few of them have become visible to the world. If ever I should have a biographer, he ought to make great men tion of this chamber in my memoirs, because so much of my lonely youth was wasted here, and here my mind and character were formed; and here I have been glad and hopeful, and here I have been despondent. And here I sat a long, long time, waiting patiently for the world to know me, and sometimes wondering why it did not know me sooner, or whether it would ever know me at all, --at least, till I were in my grave. And sometimes it seemed as if I were already in the grave, with only life enough to be chilled and benumbed. But oftener I was happy, --at least, as happy as I then knew how to be, or was aware of the possibility of being. By and by, the world found me out in my lonely chamber, and called me forth, --not, indeed, with a loud roar of acclamation, but rather with'a still, small voice, --.and forth I went, but found nothing in the world that I thought preferable to my old solitude till now.... And now I begin to understand why Iwas imprisoned so many years in this lonely' chamber, and why I could never break through the viewless bolts and bars; for if I had sooner made my escape into the world, I should have grown hard and rough, and been covered with earthly dust, and my heart might have become callous by rude encounters with the multitude.... But living in solitude till the fullness of time was come, I still kept the dew of my youth and the fresh ness of my heart.... I used to thinkI could imagine all passions, all feelings, and states of the heart and mind; but how little did I know ... Indeed, we are but shadows; we are not endowed with real life, and all that seems most real about us is but the thinnest substance o