How to Develop Power and Personality in SpeakingFunk & Wagnalls Company, 1908 - 422ÆäÀÌÁö |
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... true success - power and personality - and it is his hope that this book will help many men to realize more fully their highest ideals . In conjunction with this work the author has compiled , in ten small volumes , " The World's Great ...
... true success - power and personality - and it is his hope that this book will help many men to realize more fully their highest ideals . In conjunction with this work the author has compiled , in ten small volumes , " The World's Great ...
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... TRUE HARVEST JOY ( EXTRACT ) SCOTT , SIR WALTER MY NATIVE LAND SHAKESPEARE , WILLIAM AS YOU LIKE IT ¡¤ CASSIUS AGAINST C¨¡SAR HAMLET'S SOLILOQUY ¡¤ • ¡¤ ¡¤ • ¡¤ PAGE 407 209 87 333 376 24 336 301 110 35 KING HENRY VIII , ACT III , SCENE 2 ...
... TRUE HARVEST JOY ( EXTRACT ) SCOTT , SIR WALTER MY NATIVE LAND SHAKESPEARE , WILLIAM AS YOU LIKE IT ¡¤ CASSIUS AGAINST C¨¡SAR HAMLET'S SOLILOQUY ¡¤ • ¡¤ ¡¤ • ¡¤ PAGE 407 209 87 333 376 24 336 301 110 35 KING HENRY VIII , ACT III , SCENE 2 ...
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... true edification and speak to the heart , as , I trust , they will ever come from the heart . To you I need not say how deeply I am moved at the thought of being numbered among those to whom so important an office is entrusted , nor ...
... true edification and speak to the heart , as , I trust , they will ever come from the heart . To you I need not say how deeply I am moved at the thought of being numbered among those to whom so important an office is entrusted , nor ...
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... true preaching is the salva- tion of men . The work of the Christian minister is the preaching of Christ and of Christianity as the one religion based on love . If his heart and tongue be not on fire with holy zeal in proclaiming the ...
... true preaching is the salva- tion of men . The work of the Christian minister is the preaching of Christ and of Christianity as the one religion based on love . If his heart and tongue be not on fire with holy zeal in proclaiming the ...
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... True Harvest Joy . " 99 99 4. Have you ever seen a poor girl at midnight sitting down on a doorstep crying ? Somebody passes by , and says , " Why do you sit here ? " " I have no house , sir . I have no home . " " Where is your father ...
... True Harvest Joy . " 99 99 4. Have you ever seen a poor girl at midnight sitting down on a doorstep crying ? Somebody passes by , and says , " Why do you sit here ? " " I have no house , sir . I have no home . " " Where is your father ...
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Apollyon arms audience beautiful bells body breath Capt chest child Christ Christian clouds dead death earth English eternal exercise expression faith father fear feeling fire forever give glory hand hath hear heard heart heaven heigh-ho Helon Henry Ward Beecher honor hope human Inhale Jack James Martineau John Henry Newman JOHN RUSKIN king L. A. BANKS Lady Hamilton laws light lips live look Lord Lyman Abbott Macedon master memory mental mind mouth nature never Newman night o'er peace Phillips Brooks practise pray prayer preacher preaching public speaker relax Scrooge sermon silent smile soul sound speak speech spirit stand stars style sweet tell thee things thou thought thousand throat throne tion tone truth turn unto voice Wendell Phillips WILLIAM WORDSWORTH words write
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378 ÆäÀÌÁö - THERE was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, The earth, and every common sight, To me did seem Apparelled in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream. It is not now as it hath been of yore ; — Turn wheresoe'er I may, By night or day, The things which I have seen I now can see no more.
113 ÆäÀÌÁö - This story shall the good man teach his son; And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by From this day to the ending of the world But we in it shall be remembered; We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile This day shall gentle his condition...
109 ÆäÀÌÁö - Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries; but thou hast forced me, Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell; And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me more must be heard of, say, I taught thee...
390 ÆäÀÌÁö - O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede Of marble men and maidens overwrought, With forest branches and the trodden weed; Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral! When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, "Beauty is truth, truth beauty," — that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
382 ÆäÀÌÁö - Thanks to the human heart by which we live, Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears, To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
412 ÆäÀÌÁö - Holy, holy, holy! All the saints adore thee, Casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea; Cherubim and seraphim falling down before thee, Which wert, and art, and evermore shalt be.
43 ÆäÀÌÁö - WHEN Freedom from her mountain height Unfurled her standard to the air, She tore the azure robe of night. And set the stars of glory there. She mingled with its gorgeous dyes The milky baldric of the skies, And striped its pure celestial white With streakings of the morning light; Then from his mansion in the sun She called her eagle bearer down, And gave into his mighty hand The symbol of her chosen land.
174 ÆäÀÌÁö - But when ye pray, use not vain repetitions, as the heathen do : for they think that they shall be heard for their much speaking. Be not ye therefore like unto them ; for your Father knoweth what things ye have need of before ye ask Him.
53 ÆäÀÌÁö - To them his heart, his love, his griefs, were given, But all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven, As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale and midway leaves the storm ; Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, • Eternal sunshine settles on its head.
47 ÆäÀÌÁö - Hear the tolling of the bells — Iron bells! What a world of solemn thought their monody compels) In the silence of the night, How we shiver with affright, At the melancholy menace of their tone! For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a groan.