"Rive" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... discretion, that I have forborne to bring into this discussion the names of men in whom we have a near interest, and many of whom perhaps are present in this assembly. I will take advantage of Mr. Faraday's letter to make a single exception, by naming M. de la Rive. More than once, and in public, we have heard him distinctly point out the place occupied by the sciences of mind in relation to the natural sciences, and render glory to the Creator. And I do not think that any one, in Switzerland or elsewhere, can claim to ...
— The Heavenly Father - Lectures on Modern Atheism • Ernest Naville
... jealousies, whether as an artist or a woman; his proposal of marriage to her in one of the straight roads that cut the forest of Compiegne; the ceremony at the Mairie, with only a few of their fellow students for witnesses; the little apartment on the Rive Gauche, with its bits of old furniture, and unframed sketches pinned up on the walls; Anna's alternations of temper, now fascinating, now sulky, and that steady emergence in her of coarse or vulgar traits, like rocks in an ebbing sea; their early quarrels, and her old ...
— Helena • Mrs. Humphry Ward
... randy! I'll teach you manners. That's a good three-halfpence Smashed into smithereens: and all for nothing. I've lammed a wench for less. I've half a mind To snap you like the stopple, you yackey-yaa! De'il rive your sark! It's long since I've had the price Of a clay in my pouch: and I'm half-dead for a puff. What's taken you? What's set you agee with me? You used to like me; and you always seemed A menseful body: and I ...
— Krindlesyke • Wilfrid Wilson Gibson
... Red Oak, sometimes, in good Land, very large, and lofty. 'Tis a porous Wood, and used to rive into Rails for Fences. 'Tis not very durable; yet some use this, as well as the two former, for Pipe and Barrel-Staves. It ...
— A New Voyage to Carolina • John Lawson
... thou hast sworn an oath Which, if not kept, would make the hard earth rive To the very Devil's horns, the bright sky cleave To the very feet of God, and send her hosts Of injured Saints to scatter sparks of plague Thro' all your cities, blast your infants, dash The torch of war among your standing corn, Dabble your hearths with your own blood.—Enough! ...
— Queen Mary and Harold • Alfred Lord Tennyson
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