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Here lies the trouble with those tales of blighted love. Few or none of us at college have ever loved passionately; nor have many of us lost what we value far more than life. Our cry of bitterterness and woe is hollow, It comes from smiling lips. So such stories at best are but feeble imitations of true work...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: The Scope of College Journalism. | 1/12/1886 | See Source »

...Freshman at West Point is called a Plebe, and woe be unto that Plebe who does not always remember the respect he owes to all until his six months of probation are over. His principal enemy is the Yearling, (sophomore), who in turn trembles before the august second class man, glad to receive his notice, even though he call him but an Ex-Plebe. Every one who knows nothing about it, imagines that hazing at West Point is something terrible. As a matter of fact. force, or physical violence of any kind is never used, and the basis...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: A Letter From West Point. | 4/14/1885 | See Source »

...pathos of such a scene as that in which Lear speaks with Edgar and the fool? The majestic madness of the King, the bitter jests and incoherent ditties of the fool, the hideous gibberish of Edgar, each in its peculiar tone telling a story of great and unmerited woe,- what a marvelous harmony of discords! When we have seen this play, we do not, it is true, carry away a single definite impression, or a moral expressed in words; but we do feel in our hearts a dumb sense of the hideousness of wrong and of the sanctity of suffering...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: King Lear. | 3/26/1885 | See Source »

...others a natural fear taking root in his mind that perhaps he would be condemned to Hell on his death. He speaks of "the want of absolute certainly of being happy after death, the sure prospect of which is frightful." And for a year he is the picture of woe and gloom...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: No Headline | 3/26/1885 | See Source »

...easy to write as this ; no poetry is so utterly worthless when written. The most remarkable verse we have met, one which expresses the feelings the sea stirred up in the poet, and in which the author seems to be in a sort of ecstasy of grief and woe while giving one the impression that he was "born tired," is the following...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: TENDER MADRIGALS BY COLLEGE POETS. | 5/7/1884 | See Source »

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