The Child by Tiger — Vocabulary
Thomas Wolfe
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ONE DAY after school, Monk and several of the boys were playing with a football in the yard at Randy Shepperton's.†29 more

And snow swept in that night across the hills, demonic visitant, to restore that land to him, to sheet it in essential wonder.†2 more

And the reason for this is that it comes to people in the South not as the grim, unyielding tenant of the Winter's keep, but as a strange and wild visitor from the secret North.†1 more

Now cose," he went on quietly, with a shade of resignation, "if you want to tell on me you can — but" — here his voice fell again, with just the faintest yet most eloquent shade of sorrowful regret — "Ole Dick was lookin' fahwad to this.†2 more

Thus, at the head of those two poles of life will lie the real, the truthful image of its immortal opposite.†3 more

It was a kind of shadow, a poisonous blackness filled with bewildered loathing.†1 more

For the boys, it was a troubling and bewildering experience.†1 more

Bronze with peril, clangorous through the snow-numbed silence of the air, it had a quality of instancy and menace he had never known before.†1 more

His words cut out above the shouts and clamor of the mob like an electric spark.†1 more

Monk could see Hugh, taller by half a foot than anyone around him, his long, gaunt figure, the gaunt passion of his face, even the attitude of his outstretched bony arms, strangely, movingly Lincoln513 esque, his one good eye (for he was blind in the other) blazing in the cold glare of the corner lamp with a kind of cold, inspired, Scotch passion.†

Sometimes on these occasions his speech would be made up of some weird jargon of Biblical phrases and quotations and allusions, of which he seemed to have hundreds, and which he wove together in the strange pattern of his emotion in a sequence that was meaningless to them but to which he himself had the coherent clue.†

And he darted away towards the dense and sinister darkness of the crowd.

But Dick, with his quick watchfulness, his gentle and persuasive tact, was careful to see this did not happen.†

Sometimes on these occasions his speech would be made up of some weird jargon of Biblical phrases and quotations and allusions, of which he seemed to have hundreds, and which he wove together in the strange pattern of his emotion in a sequence that was meaningless to them but to which he himself had the coherent clue.†

But even the very bare austerity of that little room now seemed terribly alive with the presence of its recent black 524 tenant.†

It was a savage, brazen tongue calling the town to action, warning mankind against the menace of some peril — secret, dark, unknown, greater than fire or flood could ever be.†

George Webber went to sleep upon this mystery, lying in the 508 darkness, listening to that exultancy of storm, to that dumb wonder, that enormous and attentive quietness of snow, with something dark and jubilant in his soul he could not utter.†

Then, putting on her hat and coat, and taking the paper bag of "leavings" she was allowed to take home with her at night, she went out the kitchen door and made her sullen and morose departure.†

In response to all entreaties, all efforts to find the reason for her sudden and unreasonable decision.†

With that forthright honesty that was part of him, so strangely wrought of innocence and brutality, of heroism, cruelty, and tenderness, he announced at once that he was going, and then waited impatiently, spitting briefly and contemptuously from time to time, while the others argued out their own hypocrisy.†