Phyllis’s Reviews > The Moonstone > Status Update
Phyllis
is on page 107 of 719
They simply confined themselves to making a mess; and all they spoilt, to do them justice, was the panelling of a door.
Mr. Franklin's universal genius, dabbling in everything, dabbled in what he called "decorative painting." He had invented, he informed us, a new mixture to moisten paint with, which he described as a "vehicle." What it was made of, I don't know. What it did, I can tell you in two words - it stank.
— Jan 25, 2026 09:22AM
Mr. Franklin's universal genius, dabbling in everything, dabbled in what he called "decorative painting." He had invented, he informed us, a new mixture to moisten paint with, which he described as a "vehicle." What it was made of, I don't know. What it did, I can tell you in two words - it stank.
Like flag
Phyllis’s Previous Updates
Phyllis
is on page 326 of 719
"Not quite so fast," interposed Mr. Ablewhite. "I have a last word to say, which I should have said some time since, if this" — he looked my way, pondering what abominable name he should call me - "if this Rampant Spinster had not interrupted us.”
— Jan 25, 2026 09:49AM
Phyllis
is on page 328 of 719
"Miss Jane Ann Stamper be -!"
It is impossible for me to write the awful word, which is here represented by a blank. I shrieked as it passed his lips; I flew to my little bag on the side table; I shook out all my tracts; I seized the one particular tract on profane swearing, entitled, "Hush, for Heaven's Sake!"
— Jan 25, 2026 09:48AM
It is impossible for me to write the awful word, which is here represented by a blank. I shrieked as it passed his lips; I flew to my little bag on the side table; I shook out all my tracts; I seized the one particular tract on profane swearing, entitled, "Hush, for Heaven's Sake!"
Phyllis
is on page 312 of 719
…sermon was preached by my gifted friend on the heathen indifference of the world to the sinfulness of little sins. For more than an hour his eloquence …thundered through the sacred edifice. …"Has it found is. way to your heart, dear?" …"No; it has only made my head ache."This might have been discouraging to some people, but, once embarked on a career of manifest usefulness, nothing discourages Me.
— Jan 25, 2026 09:46AM
Phyllis
is on page 292 of 719
Festival of the British-Ladies’-Servsnts’-Sunday-Sweetheart-Supervision-Society
— Jan 25, 2026 09:43AM
Phyllis
is on page 288 of 719
…the famous anonymous work…entitled The Serpent at Home. … The chapters best adapted to female perusal are "Satan in the Hair Brush"; "Satan behind the Looking Glass"; "Satan under the Tea Table", "Satan out of the Window" - and many others.
…I handed it to her open, a a marked passage - one continuous burst of burning eloquence! Subject: Satan among the Sofa Cushions.
— Jan 25, 2026 09:41AM
…I handed it to her open, a a marked passage - one continuous burst of burning eloquence! Subject: Satan among the Sofa Cushions.
Phyllis
is on page 257 of 719
The hall was dirty, and the chair was hard; but the blessed consciousness of returning good for evil raised me quite above any trifling considerations of that kind. The tract was one of a series addressed to young women on the sinfulness of dress. In style it was devoutly familiar. Its title was "A Word With You On Your Cap-Ribbons."
— Jan 25, 2026 09:35AM
Phyllis
is on page 252 of 719
I hear you are likely to be turned over to Miss Clack, after parting with me. In that case, just do me the favour of not believing a word she says, if she speaks of your humble servant.
— Jan 25, 2026 09:34AM
Phyllis
is on page 229 of 719
I am (thank God!) constitutionally superior to reason. ... This roused my spirit, and made me put a bold face on it before Sergeant Cuff. Profit, good friends, I beseech you, by my example. It will save you from many troubles of the vexing sort. Cultivate a superiority to reason, and see how you pare the claws of all the sensible people when they try to scratch you for your own good!
— Jan 25, 2026 09:32AM
Phyllis
is on page 183 of 719
Scum and slime shone faintly in certain places, where the last of the light still caught them on the two great spits of rock jutting out, north and south, into the sea. It was now the time of the turn of the tide: and even as I stood there waiting, the broad brown face of the quicksand began to dimple and quiver - the only moving thing in all the horrid place.
— Jan 25, 2026 09:29AM
Phyllis
is on page 183 of 719
The last of the evening light was fading away; and over all the desolate place there hung a still and awful calm. The heave of the main ocean on the great sandbank out in the bay, was a heave that made no sound. The inner sea lay lost and dim, without a breath of wind to stir it. Patches of nasty ooze floated, yellow-white, on the dead surface of the water.
— Jan 25, 2026 09:29AM
