Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Countenanced. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Countenanced Quotes And Sayings by 91 Authors including Samuel Johnson,Ellen G. White,Joyce Carol Oates,Marquis De Lafayette,Alexandre Dumas for you to enjoy and share.
The vicious count their years; virtuous, their acts.
This is not an act
For The Accursed is intended as a work of inquiring moral complexity, and not a "sensationalist" rehashing of an old, dread scandal far better left to molder in the grave!
I am astonished but not discouraged by my enormous responsibility. Devoted both from affection and duty to the cause of the people, I shall combat with equal ardor aristocracy, despotism, and faction.
Oh," said the count, "I only know two things which destroy the appetite, - grief - and as I am happy to see you very cheerful, it is not that - and love. Now after what you told me this morning of your heart, I may believe" -
Our call is to an engaged alienation,
Silence, maiden; thy tongue outruns thy discretion.
I say I appear naked before you, but so often I whistle for my invisible armed guard; the gap-toothed, jeering, club-headed mob, my feelings, that are used to having me to themselves.
To the royal guards of this realm, we are all victims in-waiting.
Without reflecting that this is the only moment in which you can study character," said the count; "on the steps of the scaffold death tears off the mask that has been worn through life, and the real visage is disclosed.
A pleasing countenance is no slight disadvantage.
[Lat., Auxilium non leve vultus habet.]
Thy soul is by vile fear assailed
I am the servant of my score.
Arise, my soul, arise; shake off thy guilty fears; The bleeding sacrifice in my behalf appears:
Before the throne my surety stands, Before the throne my surety stands, my name is written on His hands.
The word majesty was now dropped; but, with the deepest respect and humility, I was addressed as the count. What could I do? I accepted the title, and from that moment I was known as Count Peter.
Bidden or unbidden, God is present.
Hungry wailing standeth not aloof.
Bleed, bleed, poor country!Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure;For goodness dares not check thee!His title is affear'd.Shakesp.Macbeth.
Lokeij whistled. "Make the king's warriors vanish if
they come ... what a deceitful turtledove you are."
Aly smiled at the sky. "Oh, don't,"she replied in the
tones of a flirtatious court lady. "Stop, I insist. Your
flattery makes me blush.
My soul bleeds and the blood steadily, silently, disturbingly slowly, swallows me whole.
Stained upon my hands, the blood of innocents brands my soul with such a crime forgiveness gapes appalled.
I concentrate intently on counting: hearing my voice break as the torment and torture builds; fingering myself intensely at his instruction. As we get past ten I slip up; overwhelmed by the sensations wracking my body, I realise in horror that I don't know which number is next.
I was summoned to shed blood.
Sit down awhile; And let us once again assail your ears, That are so fortified against our story What we have two nights seen.
Crowds rarely cheer too loudly for the defeated, no matter how hard they fought, how great their sacrifices, how long the odds. Maidens might wet themselves over cheap and worthless victories, but they don't so much as blush for 'I did my best
Bring thyself to account each day ere thou art summoned to a reckoning; for death, unheralded, shall come upon thee and thou shalt be called to give account for thy deeds.
Peering, I heard the hooves come down the hill.
The posse passed, twelve horse; the leader's face
Was worn as limestone on an ancient sill.
Promise in haste, repent at leisure,
Distraught I seize mine arms ... And with my comrades hasten to the hold: frenzy and anger urge my headlong will, and death methinks how comely, sword in hand!
Against my will, my fate,
A throne unsettled, and an infant state,
Bid me defend my realms with all my pow'rs, And guard with these severities my shores.
My life
has appeared unclothed in court,
detail by detail,
death-bone witness by death-bone witness,
and I was shamed at the verdict ...
I have a desire to be saved which I must call immoderate.
Now must we sing and sing the best we can,
But first you must be told your character:
Convicted cowards all, by kindred slain.
I believe long habits of virtue have a sensible effect on the countenance.
The agitator seizes the word. The artist is seized by it.
I bore silent witness, thinking, There is no army of abolition. This is what the world has for heroes. Ordinary men, squabbling and prideful. Hassling each other, doing their best, busting the world free. And men like me, behind fake papers and clear-glass spectacles, keeping it chained.
There are young men of whom it can be said that their countenances chatter. One looks at them and one knows them.
The well heeded well heard.
Be a witness, as I excersize my exorcism
Words often spoil a moment of judgment or excitement; in all great puzzles and wars and movements, there is a moment to speak and a moment to accept with silent dignity.
Who riseth from a feast With that keen appetite that he sits down?
Drear ritual turned its wheel. The ferment of the heart, within these walls, was mocked by every length of sleeping shadow. The passions, no greater than candle flames, flickered in Time's yawn, for Gormenghast, huge and adumbrate, out-crumbles all.
With a whirl of thought oppressed
I sink from reverie to rest.
An horrid vision seized my head,
I saw the graves give up their dead.
I hate the countrie's dirt and manners, yet I love the silence; I embrace the wit; A courtship, flowing here in full tide. But loathe the expense, the vanity and pride. No place each way is happy.
The task of an American writer is not to describe the misgivings of a woman taken in adultery as she looks out of a window at the rain but to describe four hundred people under the lights reaching for a foul ball. This is ceremony.
We are angered even by the full acceptance of our humiliating confessions - how much more by hearing in hard distinct syllables from the lips of a near observer, those confused murmurs which we try to call morbid, and strive against as if they were the oncoming of numbness!
Were you to realize the forms minute and glorious, which invisibly play their parts in service around you, there could be no monotony - only a divine rapture of gratitude for such ministry.
Let Justice, blind and halt and maimed, chastise the rebel spirit surging in my veins, let the Law deal me penalties and pains And make me hideous in my neighbours' eyes.
Adore, v.t. To venerate expectantly.
Out of clothes out of countenance, out of countenance out of wit.
They fix attention, heedless of your pain,
With oaths like rivets forced into the brain;
And e'en when sober truth prevails throughout,
They swear it, till affirmance breeds a doubt.
These creatures have destroyed our lands. Murdered our people." Isana lifted her chin. "Pay them for it."
When Antillus Raucus looked up, his eyes were hard, cold, and clear. "Watch me.
I had never yet done such a thing in life, but now I felt a desire to mock.
("In The Court Of The Dragon")
And before my Soul took me to task I was hard of hearing; I heard only tumult and uproar. But now I am all ears listening to the silence and its choirs singing the hymns of time, intoning the praises of the firmament, revealing the secrets of the invisible.
I am an observer.
Evoke at painful junctures, when discouragement threatens to raise its head, the image of a vast cretinous mouth, red blubber and slobbering, in solitary confinement, extruding indefatigably, with a noise of wet kisses and washing in a tub, the words that obstruct it.
Apparuit iam beatitudo vestra' That is, Now your blessedness appears.
I saw you with your envoy A consenting adult Technique in moderation But vogue to the cult Me I've got my strangers To exile in the night I guess I'm just addicted To the pain of delight
Servants, when their lords no longer sway, Their minds no more to righteous courses bend.
enthralled with the film as I
Undoreth, we. Battle-born. Raise hammer, raise axe, at our war-shout gods tremble.
If little faults, proceeding on distemper, Shall not be wink'd at, how shall we stretch our eye When capital crimes, chew'd, swallow'd and digested, Appear before
My voice rings down through thousands of years to coil around your body and give you strength, you who have wept in direct sunlight, who have hungered in invisible chains, tremble to the cadence of my legacy: An army of lovers shall not fail.
Crowd was to be pleased. Crowd was to be worshipped and feared. Ultimately, Crowd was to be made sacrifice unto.
You lethargic, waiting upon me,
waiting for the fire and I
attendant upon you, shaken by your beauty
Shaken by your beauty
Shaken.
This haze of blood must subside, the palace must collapse under the weight of the riches it conceals, the orgy must finish and the time come to awaken.
Jesmyn Ward returns to the world of her first two books, but here in the mode of non-fiction. A clear-eyed witness to the harrowing stories of 'men we reaped,' she quickens the dead and brings them, vividly alive again. An eloquent, grief-steeped account.
Govern well thy appetite, lest Sin surprise thee, and her black attendant Death.
I had to bear witness in order to protect the future, bear witness in order to overcome the amnesia of my contemporaries.
Virtue is the fount whence honour springs.
Courage mounteth with occasion.
I became, and remain, my characters' close and intent watcher: their director, never. Their creator I cannot feel that I was, or am.
When your crowd of attendants so loudly applaud you, Pomponius, it is not you, but your banquet, that is eloquent.
Ignominious grave, and I the cause! A thousand times
I am awake and witness to the beauty that resides behind you're soulful eyes of intent. Become my impaler.
By God, I will not obey this filthy enactment!
Upon this crown my pledge I give,
To my last breath,I hold this choice,
I will your unjust deaths avenge,
All here who died without a voice.
I am accused. I dream of massacres.
I am a garden of black and red agonies. I drink them,
Hating myself, hating and fearing. And now the
world conceives
Its end and runs toward it, arms held out in love.
I hymn and bless Your uncountable compassion and philanthropy, as You desired to number me with Your chosen servants. Look down, now, upon me the lowly one, O God and Master, Lord of mercy, Ruler of all and All-powerful One, hearken to my prayer, and fulfill my entreaties in praise.
When one confesses to an act, one ceases to be an actor in it and becomes its witness, becomes a man that observes and narrates it and no longer the man that performed it.
A conquered foe should be watched.
My heart is with Him on His throne, And ill can brook delay; Each moment listening for the voice, 'Rise up and come away.
Aid the dawning, tongue and pen; Aid it, hopes of honest men!
Your words seduced me,captured and imprisoned me in a world of wonders.
Enthralled, I lie at your feet,slayed and yearning for more of your magic.
The with forbidden the death of warriors
Beautiful maiden," answered Candide, "when a man is in love, is jealous, and has been flogged by the Inquisition, he becomes lost to all reflection.
Character is inured habit.
Left alone, I was passive; repulsed, I withdrew; forgotten - my lips would not utter, nor my eyes dart a reminder.
I am - I am" - And his almost closed lips uttered a name so low that the count himself appeared afraid to hear it.
From Bard, to Bard, the frigid Caution crept,
Till Declamation roar'd, while Passion slept.
Certain kinds of honor could not be lost without demanding that one consecrate oneself thereafter - no matter how unsuited and unprepared - to a life of revenge. I
The man looked down at his feet. Tietjens said to himself that it was Valentine Wannop doing this to him. He ought to turn the man down at once. He was pervaded by a sense of her being. It was imbecile. Yet it was so.
I looked inside, compelled to stare, staining the image of a dead body into my memory. I did not deserve to look away. I had to know the awfulness of war; the wickedness of our species.
Let me be accursed. Let me be vile and base, only let me kiss the hem of the veil in which my God is shrouded.
With a bloody flux of oaths vows deep revenge.
Although I never lack the presence and plain image of my own wretched
infirmity, yet seeing sin so manifestly abounds in all estates, I am
compelled to thunder out the threatenings of God against the obstinate
rebels.
Your father calls you to his court. You need not pack. You go garbed in glorious raiment. He waits eagerly by his palace doors to welcome you, and has prepared a place at the high table, by his side, in the company of the great-souled, honored, and best-beloved.
Throughout my life, I sought power and profit for myself, for my rate. Now, at long last, I think I understand the meaning of a crime against the Mantle. After this, no need to seek balance. I will await my penance here.
There is no witness so terrible and no accuser so powerful as conscience which dwells within us.
Days XIX. An Opinion XX. A Plea XXI. Echoing Footsteps