T. P. O'Connor

“ It was the first and the last bit of real human naturalness in the whole speech, for Lord Salisbury's manner and delivery are wooden, stiff, awkward and lumbering. He stands upright—except, of course, for that heavy stoop of the shoulders which is one of his characteristics—and rarely moves himself one-hundredth part of an inch. The voice—even, clear, and strong, and yet not penetrating, and still less inspiring—rarely has a change of note; it is delivered with the strange, curious air of a man who is thinking aloud, and has forgotten the presence of any listeners. ”

“ When I come across a man complete and perfect in vice, I at once feel as if I were face to face with some terrible portent of nature. And this man—willing to receive the endearments of words and of acts of some of the most beautiful, fascinating, and tender women of the period, and maintaining amid every scene of passion and affection, with the background of the guillotine, and all the horrors and abysses of the time― maintaining amid all this the same coldness of heart, the same frigid outlook of the eye― it is a picture of a human being which makes me at once bewildered and aghast! ”

“ A murmur arose on the Irish Benches; slips of paper were passed up to Mr. Dillon to recall to him the facts of the case; but, either in the hurry and excitement, or because he did not appreciate the situation immediately, Mr. Dillon went on with his speech—unconscious of the abyss that opened up before him. Meantime, Mr. Chamberlain—pale, excited, his face torn with the workings of gratified hatred and coming triumph—sat forward in his seat, his eyeglass shining from afar, eagerness in every look, pose, movement. ”

“ In walking through the streets of Paris, it seems to me, the features even of the lowest and most miserable class of people do not present to the eye anything like ferociousness, or the meanest passions in all their hideous energy. Can those passions alter the features so as to deprive them of all likeness to humanity? or does the terror inspired by the sight of a guilty wretch give him the semblance of a wild beast? These madmen, dancing in the mire and covered with mud, surrounded the King's coach. ”

“ If one were on the look-out for dramatic and instructive contrast in the House of Commons, one could not do better than study Mr. Morley and Mr. Chamberlain for a week. Mr. Chamberlain—glib, shallow, self-possessed, well-trained by years of public life—debates admirably. Nobody can deny that—not even those who, like myself, find his speaking exasperatingly empty and superficial and foolish. He is master of all his resources; scarcely ever pauses for a word, and when he is interrupted, can parry the stroke with a return blow of lightning-like rapidity. ”

“ To love you only, to render you happy, to do nothing that can annoy you, that is my destiny, and the object of my life. Be happy, do not reproach me, care nothing about the fidelity of a man who lives only through you; enjoy only your own pleasures and your own happiness. In asking for a love equal to mine, I was wrong. How can I expect lace to weigh as heavily as gold? In sacrificing to you all my desires, all my thoughts, every instant of my life, I simply yield to the ascendency that your charms, your character, and your whole heart have obtained over my unhappy heart. ”

“ The brilliant light of the early days of our century has become dim and cold in those hearts and minds which have not had the power to grow and expand with their ages. But with that splendid sanity of body as well as mind which belongs to him, Mr. Gladstone is the creature of the ending of the nineteenth as of the beginning of the twentieth century. Like the man of Arctic climes, he stands almost at the same moment in the sunset of one great century and the heralding light of the sunrise of another. ”

“ A few sighs had escaped her during the drive homeward, and the only words spoken by her had been, 'Why do people have a heart over which they have no control? Why did I ever love a man like Barras? How can I cease loving him? How can I tear myself from him? How can I think of any other but him? Tell him from me, I entreat you, how deeply I am devoted to him; that I will never love but him, whatever happens to me in this world . . . . ' My aide-de-camp further informed me that just as the carriage reached Madame Beauharnais' house, Bonaparte was there waiting for her at the door. ”

“ A schoolfellow from that far-off and almost pre-historic time when our Grand Old Man was a thin, slim, introspective and prematurely serious boy at Eton, tells to-day that the recollection he has of the young Gladstone is of a slight figure, never running, but always walking with a fast step, with earnest black eyes, and with a pallid face—the ivory pallor, be it observed, not of delicacy, but of robustness. Still there was on that Home Rule night, a pallor that had the deadlier hue of sleeplessness, worry, over-anxiety—the hideous burden of a great, weighty, and complex speech to deliver. ”

“ What are the people? What is a King?' The other, with a contrite air, a nasal voice, and winding himself about like a harlequin, answered: 'God is nature; the people are the poor; a king is a lion, a tiger, an elephant, who tears to pieces, devours, and crushes the poor people to death.' It was not possible to resist this. Astonishment, shouts, enthusiasm, were carried to the highest pitch. ”

“ There is always something that depresses, as well as something that exhilarates, in the first day of a Session of Parliament. In the months which have elapsed, there have been plenty of events to emphasize the mutability and the everlasting tragedy of human life. Some men have died; figures that seemed almost the immortal portion of the life of Parliament have disappeared into night, and their place knows them no more; others have met the fate, more sinister and melancholy, of changing a life of dignity and honour for one of ignominy and shame. ”

“ She will appear then lofty, almost like a goddess, in her great robes, heavy with diamonds, surrounded by a procession of ladies-in-waiting, officials—seen from afar off by the people like an idol. Thus does he gild the cage and adorn the prison; thus does he take precautions for keeping her still a child by amusing her with toys; thus does he regulate minutely her whole life in order that she may pass without any shock from the state of the captive Archduchess at Schonbrunn to the state of the captive Empress at Paris. ”

“ Every face is turned to that of the single pale white solitary figure that stands out from the Treasury Bench, dressed, I may add, in the sober but light grey suit of the summer season, in spite of his being a messenger of such doom to Tory obstruction. There is a hush, but a hush never lasts long in the House of Commons when a great party blow is going to be struck. The nerves of the House, raised to expectancy—tension, almost hysteria, by the joy of the one side, the anger and dread of the other, have a preternatural readiness in catching points, in producing outbursts of feeling. ”

“ They fight for victory, for glory, for the French eagles, and for the little cold man who, they know, stands on the height behind them, whose eye follows every single man, who sees all and forgets nothing; but today they have an enemy who is not easy to deal with. They stand where they stand, these Englishmen, and if they are forced to step backwards, they regain their position the next moment. They have no eagles and no Emperor, and when they fight they think neither of military glory nor of revenge ”