For, after these things, it is not necessary for me to say anything more with a view to explain the motion of the heart
, except that when its cavities are not full of blood, into these the blood of necessity flows, - - from the hollow vein into the right, and from the venous artery into the left; because these two vessels are always full of blood, and their orifices, which are turned towards the heart
, cannot then be closed.
About to speak from your heart
. Don't you know that the heart
is an ingenious part of our formation--the centre of the blood-vessels and all that sort of thing--which has no more to do with what you say or think, than your knees have?
"If you want a red rose," said the Tree, "you must build it out of music by moonlight, and stain it with your own heart
You need not be idle, even though lying here in darkness and sorrow; you can be taking from your heart
all sad and discontented feelings, and if love and patience blossom there, you will be better for the lonely hours spent here.
--For a hunt after susceptible simpletons: all mouse-traps for the heart
have again been set!
Nevertheless it is hardly fair To risk your heart
for a dog to tear.
As Adam was a-working outside of Eden-Wall, He used the Earth, he used the Seas, he used the Air and all; And out of black disaster He arose to be the master Of Earth and Water, Air and Fire, But never reached his heart
's desire!(The Apple Tree's cut down!)
In the bitterness of his heart
, the Blackfoot renegade repined at the mishap which had severed him from a race of congenial spirits, and driven him to take refuge among beings so destitute of martial fire.
40-53) Bitter pain seized her heart
, and she rent the covering upon her divine hair with her dear hands: her dark cloak she cast down from both her shoulders and sped, like a wild-bird, over the firm land and yielding sea, seeking her child.
Let men tremble to win the hand of woman, unless they win along with it the utmost passion of her heart
! Else it may be their miserable fortune, as it was Roger Chillingworth's, when some mightier touch than their own may have awakened all her sensibilities, to be reproached even for the calm content, the marble image of happiness, which they will have imposed upon her as the warm reality.
But as there was no one to tell her so, and as the words of Cornelius's thoughtless speech had fallen upon her heart
like drops of poison, she did not dream, but she wept.
With the snake-like writhings of an idea he glided into another female heart
; but this seemed to him like a large holy fane.* The white dove of innocence fluttered over the altar.