He made up his mind to examine more closely at leisure this atmosphere, so that from it he might extract the quintessential spirit.
It was exasperating that now already the footfalls were dying away, that already their sensation was evanescent, that he could not with the wand of poetry forbid time to disturb this quintessential hour of Oxford.
The test of this quintessential democracy is neither a passionate insistence upon voting and the majority rule, nor an arrogant bearing towards those who are one's betters in this aspect or that, but fellowship.
It is, as I have already said, one of the vicious tendencies of the human mind to think that whatever can be given a simple name can be abstracted as a single something in a state of quintessential purity.
This was the quintessentialtruth of or lack of reality.
The precious cordial is as a union of the quintessential spirits of joy, peace, tranquillity, happiness, and delight.
She had to be in the picture, and so she came in as though she were the central figure, as though she were the quintessential England.
Too busily occupied with practical realities to follow the thought of the age through all its divagations and into all its recesses, these Massachusetts business men had had to consider methods of access more quintessential and nuclear.
He forgets that in quintessential art there is nothing of the past, nothing old: even the future has part therein only in that the present is always encroaching upon, becoming, the future.
The utmost we can expect to reproduce, perhaps even to perceive in the most quintessential moment, is a partially faithful, partially deceptive silhouette.
But inferior as Lesage's work is in not a few ways, it has, like other non-quintessential things, much more virtue as model and pattern.
The utmost we can expect to produce (perhaps even to perceive, in the most quintessential moment), is a partially faithful, partially deceptive silhouette.
How intensely one lives sometimes, even when there is little apparently to call forth quintessential emotion.
Leaving these mystic things aside what you say about art is quite true except that I cannot regard art as the “quintessential life” unless art comes to mean the art of living more than the art of the artists.
The force of the hour, the value of the quintessential moment as factors in the development of the soul, have never been set forth, even by Browning, with such startling power.
But it is even more (and here its only parallel is A Tale of a Tub, which is more desultory and much more of a fatrasie or salmagundy of odds and ends) a masterpiece and quintessential example of irony.
At first as I peered into the radiating glow this quintessential brain looked very much like an opaque, featureless bladder with dim, undulating ghosts of convolutions writhing visibly within.
