Full many a stoic eye and aspect stern
Mask hearts where grief hath little left to learn;
And many a withering thought lies hid, not lost,
In smiles that least befit who wear them most.

Lord Byron, The Corsair

The sea had leeringly kept his finite body up, but drowned the infinite of his soul. Not drowned entirely, though. Rather carried down alive to wondrous depths, where strange shapes of the unwarped primal world glided to and fro before his passive eyes; and the miser-merman, Wisdom, revealed his hoarded heaps; and among the joyous, heartless, ever-juvenile eternities, Pip saw the multitudinous, God-omnipresent, coral insects, that out of the firmament of waters heaved the colossal orbs. He saw God’s foot upon the treadle of the loom, and spoke it; and therefore his shipmates called him mad.

Herman Melville, Moby Dick

In man or fish, wriggling is a sign of inferiority.

Herman Melville, Moby Dick

Vocabulary: Midleaf Crasis Edition

surcingle: belt worn with a cassock; also one used to strap burdens to horses
crasis: blending or mingling; also combining two vowels into one sound
pasquil: also pasquinade, a satire or lampoon, usually posted publicly
poetaster: an inferior poet (-aster is a universal pejorative suffix)
aerolite: a meteorite, esp. one composed of silicates
caoutchouc: also cauchauc, archaic term for rubber
appetence: desire, appetite, affinity, or tendency
hibernian: relating to Ireland, or an Irish person
chark: to create charcoal, or the material itself
jakes: an outhouse or other outdoors lavatory
wain: an open-topped wagon or cart
collogue: to secretly conspire or plot
putid: morally or chemically corrupt
propugn: to defend or advocate for
harridan: a scolding woman or nag
succade: candied citrus peel
quondam: former, erstwhile
imposthume: an abscess
trivant: truant

Failure is less frequently attributable to either insufficiency of means or impatience of labour, than to a confused understanding of the thing actually to be done.

John Ruskin, The Seven Lamps of Architecture

I now rambled about in great uneasiness from the coffee-house to the promenade, from thence to the museum, from the museum to the tavern, from the tavern to the exhibition of wild beasts, and at last to the playhouse, but I could nowhere find tranquillity.

Lawrence Flammenberg, The Necromancer; or, The Tale of the Black Forest

Love has many masks; masks of submission and of oppression; and even more terrible masks that make Nature a stranger to herself and ‘turn the truth of God into a lie,’ as St. Paul wrote.

Ray Russell, Sardonicus

The lady may accept the escort, or the lady may ‘give him the mitten.’

I could cite you more than one hundred incidents corroborating the truth, that people have a very confused idea when their senses are tied up by fear and anxiety. As soon as cool reflection gives way to the horrors of a disordered fancy, we are but too apt to create phantoms and spectres all around us, we do not see what really exists, but what we fear to behold.

Lawrence Flammenberg, The Necromancer; or, The Tale of the Black Forest

Horrid to behold did now a second phantom appear before our gazing looks, staggering slowly towards us, and leaving a numerous retinue on the staircase; the garment of the spectre was stained with blood, the skull fractured, the eyes like two portentous comets!

Lawrence Flammenberg, The Necromancer; or, The Tale of the Black Forest