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“Chase up to the dam line. There’s an overflow gate in the spillway there. Break it open!” “Yes,” said the other. “But it would mean tunneling through a mountain to get the water out after the dam was built. That is nothing for the Service if only we could get a road down into the canyon. Need it to get machinery and materials down to the dam site. Nobody’s ever gone through the canyon alive, so no one knows whether a road is practical or not. Lots have started. I’ve sort of a hankering to try it.” The marquis, meanwhile, whose indefatigable search after Julia failed of success, was successively the slave of alternate passions, and he poured forth the spleen of disappointment on his unhappy domestics..
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Conrad
"No one is stupid, who believes himself to be wanting in intelligence, it is the fool who is not aware of being without it." "Eat, Beauty," said the monster to her, "and try to find pleasure in your own house; for everything here belongs to you. I should be very sorry if you were unhappy." "You are everything that is kind," said Beauty. "I assure you that your goodness of heart makes me happy; when I think of that, you no longer appear so ugly to me." "Ah, yes!" replied the Beast, "I have a kind heart, but for all that I am a monster." "Many men are more monsters than you," said Beauty; "and I care more for you with your countenance, than for those who with their human face hide a false, corrupt, and ungrateful heart." "If I had sufficient wit," responded the Beast, "I would make you a pretty answer in return for your words; but I am too stupid for that, and all I can say is, that I am very grateful to you." This boat that he was making was going to be a fine one—Johnny Blossom held it out and peered sharply at it, first lengthwise, then sidewise—the finest boat any one had ever whittled. Every one who saw it would say, “Who made that beautiful, graceful boat?” Well, here was the boy who could do it! “Why do you think he will come here?” asked Bob, amazed at the Indian’s tactics. He didn’t for a moment doubt that Feather-in-the-Wind knew what he was about, yet it surprised him and he wanted an explanation. When the marchioness learned the fate of Hippolitus, the resentment of jealous passion yielded to emotions of pity. Revenge was satisfied, and she could now lament the sufferings of a youth whose personal charms had touched her heart as much as his virtues had disappointed her hopes. Still true to passion, and inaccessible to reason, she poured upon the defenceless Julia her anger for that calamity of which she herself was the unwilling cause. By a dextrous adaptation of her powers, she had worked upon the passions of the marquis so as to render him relentless in the pursuit of ambitious purposes, and insatiable in revenging his disappointment. But the effects of her artifices exceeded her intention in exerting them; and when she meant only to sacrifice a rival to her love, she found she had given up its object to revenge..
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