Author: Hall Caine

Cites

• Coleridge (1)
  • IN: The Woman of Knockaloe (1923) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: Ere on my bed my limbs I lay, It hath not been my use to pray With moving lips or bended knees, But silently, by slow degrees, My spirit I to Love compose, In humble trust mine eye-lids close, With reverential resignation. No wish conceived, no thought exprest, Only a sense of supplication, A sense o'er all my soul imprest That I am weak, yet not unblest, Since in me, round me, everywhere Eternal strength and Wisdom are. But yester-night I prayed aloud, In anguish and in agony, Up-starting from the fiendish crowd Of shapes and thoughts that tortured me: A lurid light, a trampling throng, Sense of intolerable wrong, And whom I scorned, those only strong: Thirst of revenge, the powerles will Still baffled, and yet burning still! Desire with loathing strangely mixed On wild or hateful objects fixed. Fantastic passions! maddening brawl! And shame and terror over all!
    FROM: The Pains of Sleep, (1816), Poem, UK
• Bible (5)
  • IN: The Woman of Knockaloe (1923) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: "Love is strong as death; jealousy is cruel as the grave,... Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it."
    FROM: Song of Solomon 8:6, (-165), Bible, NULL
  • IN: The Eternal City (1901) Drama, British
    EPIGRAPH: He looked for a city which hath foundations whose builder and maker is God.
    FROM: Bible, Hebrews 11:10, (100), Bible, NULL
  • IN: The Bondman (1906) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: Vengeance is mine -- I will repay.
    FROM: Romans 12:19, (100), Bible, NULL
  • IN: A Son of Hagar (1886) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: God hath heard the voice of the lad where he is.
    FROM: Genisis 21:17, (-165), Bible, NULL
• Omar Khayyam (trans. Edward FitzGerald, 1859) (1)
  • IN: The Prodigal Son (1904) Novel, British
    EPIGRAPH: Then to the rolling Heav'n itself I cried, Asking, 'What Lamp had Destiny to guide Her little Children stumbling in the Dark?' And--' A blind understanding!' Heav'n replied.
    FROM: The Quatrains of Omar Khayyam, (None), Poem, Iran