A pedestrian seems in this country to be a sort of beast of passage - stared at, pitied, suspected and shunned by everyone who meets him ... Every passing coachman called out to me: "Do you want to ride on… — Karl Philipp Moritz Copy Share Image
The church of St. Peter at Berlin, notwithstanding the total difference between them in the style of building, appears in some respects to have… — Karl Philipp Moritz Copy Share Image
All over London as one walks, one everywhere, in the season, sees oranges to sell; and they are in general sold tolerably cheap, one… — Karl Philipp Moritz Copy Share Image
Every view, and every object I studied attentively, by viewing them again and again on every side, for I was anxious to make a… — Karl Philipp Moritz Copy Share Image
As I passed along the side walls of Westminster Abbey, I hardly saw any thing but marble monuments of great admirals, but which were… — Karl Philipp Moritz Copy Share Image
I am very sorry to say that I rejoiced when I once more perceived the towers of Windsor behind me. — Karl Philipp Moritz Copy Share Image
Whilst in Prussia poets only speak of the love of country as one of the dearest of all human affections, here there is no… — Karl Philipp Moritz Copy Share Image
The short English miles are delightful for walking. You are always pleased to find, every now and then, in how short a time you… — Karl Philipp Moritz Copy Share Image
In the streets through which we passed, I must own the houses in general struck me as if they were dark and gloomy, and… — Karl Philipp Moritz Copy Share Image
Westminster Abbey, the Tower, a steeple, one church, and then another, presented themselves to our view; and we could now plainly distinguish the high… — Karl Philipp Moritz Copy Share Image
You see in the streets of London, great and little boys running about in long blue coats, which, like robes, reach quite down to… — Karl Philipp Moritz Copy Share Image
On a very gloomy dismal day, just such a one as it ought to be, I went to see Westminster Abbey. — Karl Philipp Moritz Copy Share Image
My landlady, who is only a tailor's widow, reads her Milton; and tells me, that her late husband first fell in love with her… — Karl Philipp Moritz Copy Share Image
