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More "Unsounded" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... of camphor; a farther sense of coolness and prickling wet on Holmes's hot, cracking face and hands; then silence and sleep again. Sometime—when, he never knew—a gray light stinging his eyes like pain, and again a slow sinking into warm, unsounded darkness and unconsciousness. It might be years, it might be ages. Even in after-life, looking back, he never broke that time into weeks or days: people might so divide it for him, but he was uncertain, always: it ...
— Margret Howth, A Story of To-day • Rebecca Harding Davis
... were holding down a struggling world. And lo! The struggling world grew quiet. The vain babbling of the parched lips ceased. Then did he speak. Aye—Mary, Martha, Anna—to hear his voice—deep like unsounded depths, mellow like the music of the viol and restful as when small waves play upon smooth shores. Twice did he speak. There was stillness. His eyes were fastened kindly on the face of her who lay beneath his touch. Then did she open her eyes. Her lips ...
— The Coming of the King • Bernie Babcock
... for he was almost always there—a bent, shrunken little man, white-haired, leaning heavily upon his cane, asking questions in a thin piping voice, and straining his dim eyes forever toward the unsounded waters, from whence the idol of his heart ...
— Threads of Grey and Gold • Myrtle Reed
... God are not deducible from history or from natural theology, but are thus directly given us in consciousness. In his essay on the Transcendentalist Emerson says: "His experience inclines him to behold the procession of facts you call the world as flowing perpetually outward from an invisible, unsounded center in himself; center alike of him and of them, and necessitating him to regard all things as having a subjective or relative existence—relative to that aforesaid Unknown Center of him. There is ...
— Initial Studies in American Letters • Henry A. Beers
... the two men met again. Gerald's, that were keen as a hawk's, were suffused now with warm light and with unadmitted love, Birkin looked back as out of a darkness, unsounded and unknown, yet with a kind of warmth, that seemed to flow over Gerald's ...
— Women in Love • D. H. Lawrence
... a somewhat lonely existence. I have never been essential to the life of another, and no one has ever touched the real depths of mine. I have known they were there, but I have known they were unsounded." ...
— The Rosary • Florence L. Barclay
... this unsounded depth, it may well afford to repeat the same forms forever, nor incurs thereby any danger of exhausting its significance and becoming stale. Vital repetition, accordingly, goes on in Nature in a way not doubtful and diffident, but frank, ...
— Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 10, No. 57, July, 1862 - A Magazine Of Literature, Art, And Politics • Various
... aching past, And mirroring the future. And these leaves Of meditation are but perfumes from The censer of my feelings; honied drops Wrung from the busy hives of heart and brain; Mere etchings of the artist; grains of sand From the calm shores of that unsounded deep Of speculation, where all thought is lost Amid the realms of ...
— Hesperus - and Other Poems and Lyrics • Charles Sangster
... O the unsounded sea of womens bloods, That when tis calmest, is most dangerous! Not any wrinkle creaming in their faces, 315 When in their hearts are Scylla and Caribdis, Which still are hid in dark and standing foggs, Where never day shines, nothing ever growes But weeds and poysons ...
— Bussy D'Ambois and The Revenge of Bussy D'Ambois • George Chapman
... herself happy and courageous to support his depressed spirits. She was making a beginning—she was practising herself in her nursery duties, and, to her surprise, finding them quite charming; and little Kitty so delighted with all she did for her, that all the hitherto unsounded depths of the motherly heart were stirred up, and she could not think why she had never found out her true happiness. She looked so bright and so beautiful, that even Lord Ormersfield remarked it, pitying her ...
— Dynevor Terrace (Vol. II) • Charlotte M. Yonge
... this is a great submarine mountain chain that is believed at one time to have belonged to the continent of North America. The outside edge of it is in the welter of the shoreless Atlantic, and from this edge there is a sheer drop into almost unsounded depths. These depths have got the name of the Whale Hole, and many a fishing skipper has dropped his anchor into this abyss and earned the laughter of his crew when he could ...
— The Harbor of Doubt • Frank Williams
... ominous had been the advice proffered by Gabby Johnny Thompson. In his capacity of Secretary-Treasurer of the School Board that gentleman felt it incumbent upon him to inform the novice of the unsounded depths of iniquity he had to deal with in Number Nine. His darkest hints related to "yon ill piece o' Big Malcolm MacDonald's." A scandalous young deil he was, and Mr. Monteith would have to keep an eye on him, for him and yon young Papish of a Murphy were a bad pair. ...
— The Silver Maple • Marian Keith
... it seemed as though my faculties were desperately searching for light on a hitherto unsounded sea. "I think this will do for ...
— Cape Cod Folks • Sarah P. McLean Greene
... figure, for he was almost always there—a bent, shrunken little man, white-haired, leaning heavily upon his cane, asking questions in a thin piping voice, and straining his dim eyes forever toward the unsounded waters, from whence the idol ...
— Threads of Grey and Gold • Myrtle Reed
... height of desolation, a strange hushing, Lethean calm. Even so it was with Theos Alwyn,—drowned in the deep stillness of a merciful swoon, he had sunk, as it were, out of life,—far out of the furthest reach or sense of time, in some vast unsounded gulf of shadows where earth and heaven were ...
— Ardath - The Story of a Dead Self • Marie Corelli
... Through a quiet dream. Humble voyagers are we, Husband, wife, and children three— One is lost,—an angel, fled To the azure overhead. Touch us gently, Time! We've not proud nor soaring wings: Our ambition, our content, Lies in simple things. Humble voyagers are we, O'er life's dim, unsounded sea, Seeking only some calm clime:— Touch us gently, ...
— The Recreations of A Country Parson • A. K. H. Boyd
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