wind rattled the window-panes, as if it were summoning her to come forth.
and lonesome, and my room looks out on such an unholy back yard.
We were in that bleak
region many days, and we suffered much, especially from fear, it was all so new and strange.
Lines formed in his face, and in those lines were the travail of the North, the bite of the frost, all that he had achieved and suffered--the long, unending weeks of trail, the bleak
tundra shore of Point Barrow, the smashing ice-jam of the Yukon, the battles with animals and men, the lean-dragged days of famine, the long months of stinging hell among the mosquitoes of the Koyokuk, the toil of pick and shovel, the scars and mars of pack-strap and tump-line, the straight meat diet with the dogs, and all the long procession of twenty full years of toil and sweat and endeavor.
Still farming, my family had moved to a ranch on the bleak sad coast of San Mateo County, south of San Francisco.
And I was very proud, on that bright Sunday morning, going down the long bleak road among the sandhills.
Thus the days passed, and winter settled down on the bleak
Miss Bronte, a product and embodiment of the strictest religious sense of duty, somewhat tempered by the liberalizing tendency of the time, was the daughter of the rector of a small and bleak
Yorkshire village, Haworth, where she was brought up in poverty.
But sometimes I saw her myself, not only when she came to church, but when she was out on the hills with her son, whether taking a long, purpose-like walk, or - on special fine days - leisurely rambling over the moor or the bleak pasture-lands, surrounding the old hall, herself with a book in her hand, her son gambolling about her; and, on any of these occasions, when I caught sight of her in my solitary walks or rides, or while following my agricultural pursuits, I generally contrived to meet or overtake her, for I rather liked to see Mrs.
On winter evenings, when Arthur is in bed, and I am sitting there alone, hearing the bleak wind moaning round me and howling through the ruinous old chambers, no books or occupations can represss the dismal thoughts and apprehensions that come crowding in - but it is folly to give way to such weakness, I know.
Fit habitation for gods, which, so short a time before, was bleak
, damp, and unwholesome.
In the Preface to Bleak
House I remarked that I had never had so many readers.