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The House Of Dies Drear Downloads Torrent

We may imagine a time when, in the infancy of the human race, some enterprisingmortal crept into a hollow in a rock for shelter. Every child begins the worldagain, to some extent, and loves to stay out doors, even in wet and cold. Itplays house, as well as horse, having an instinct for it. Who does not rememberthe interest with which when young he looked at shelving rocks, or any approachto a cave? It was the natural yearning of that portion of our most primitiveancestor which still survived in us. From the cave we have advanced to roofs ofpalm leaves, of bark and boughs, of linen woven and stretched, of grass andstraw, of boards and shingles, of stones and tiles. At last, we know not whatit is to live in the open air, and our lives are domestic in more senses thanwe think. From the hearth to the field is a great distance. It would be wellperhaps if we were to spend more of our days and nights without anyobstruction between us and the celestial bodies, if the poet did not speak somuch from under a roof, or the saint dwell there so long. Birds do not sing incaves, nor do doves cherish their innocence in dovecots.

The House Of Dies Drear Downloads Torrent


It is the luxurious and dissipated who set the fashions which the herd sodiligently follow. The traveller who stops at the best houses, so called, soondiscovers this, for the publicans presume him to be a Sardanapalus, and if heresigned himself to their tender mercies he would soon be completelyemasculated. I think that in the railroad car we are inclined to spend more onluxury than on safety and convenience, and it threatens without attaining theseto become no better than a modern drawing room, with its divans, and ottomans,and sun-shades, and a hundred other oriental things, which we are taking westwith us, invented for the ladies of the harem and the effeminate natives of theCelestial Empire, which Jonathan should be ashamed to know the names of. Iwould rather sit on a pumpkin and have it all to myself than be crowded on avelvet cushion. I would rather ride on earth in an ox cart with a freecirculation, than go to heaven in the fancy car of an excursion train andbreathe a malaria all the way.

I had three chairs in my house; one for solitude, two for friendship, three forsociety. When visitors came in larger and unexpected numbers there was but thethird chair for them all, but they generally economized the room by standingup. It is surprising how many great men and women a small house will contain. Ihave had twenty-five or thirty souls, with their bodies, at once under my roof,and yet we often parted without being aware that we had come very near to oneanother. Many of our houses, both public and private, with their almostinnumerable apartments, their huge halls and their cellars for the storage ofwines and other munitions of peace, appear to me extravagantly large for theirinhabitants. They are so vast and magnificent that the latter seem to be onlyvermin which infest them. I am surprised when the herald blows his summonsbefore some Tremont or Astor or Middlesex House, to see come creeping out overthe piazza for all inhabitants a ridiculous mouse, which soon again slinks intosome hole in the pavement.

The important thing for you to remember, Montag, is we're the Happiness Boys, the Dixie Duo, you and I and the others. We stand against the small tide of those who want to make everyone unhappy with conflicting theory and thought. We have our fingers in the dyke. Hold steady. Don't let the torrent of melancholy and drear philosophy drown our world.

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