and, consequently, if it frights us, 'tis a perpetual torment, for which there is no sort of consolation. There is no way by which it may not reach us. We may continually turn our heads this way and that, as in a suspected country:
Место: CHAPTER XIX · ¶469 Лицензия: Public domain · Источник Текст приведён как в издании, без правок.