Who is Laurence Sterne

Laurence Sterne (24 November 1713 – 18 March 1768), was an Anglo-Irish novelist and Anglican cleric who wrote the novels The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman and A Sentimental Journey Through France and Italy, published sermons and memoirs, and indulged in local politics. He grew up in a military family travelling mainly in Ireland but briefly in England. An uncle paid for Sterne to attend Hipperholme Grammar School in the West Riding of Yorkshire, as Sterne's father was ordered to Jamaica, where he died of malaria some years later. He attended Jesus College, Cambridge on a sizarship, gaining bachelor's and master's degrees. While Vicar of Sutton-on-the-Forest, Yorkshire, he married Elizabeth Lumley in 1741. His ecclesiastical satire A Political Romance infuriated the chur...
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Dealsonproducts: writers inspirational quotes writing, when properly managed (as you may be sure i think mine is) is but a different name for conversation. - laurence sterne
Uselesstree: unexpected confucius sighting: laurence sterne, tristram shandy, vol v, chap 25 (1762) , makes reference to confucius but perhaps only in a purposely mistaken way. a footnote by sterne says that the storyteller means someone else other than the real confucius. 1/
Kit_travieso: as time goes on i become more convinced every day that thomas pynchon is the literary progeny of laurence sterne: the humorous tone, the digressions, character names, etc.
Imogalore: writers inspirational quotes writing, when properly managed (as you may be sure i think mine is) is but a different name for conversation. - laurence sterne
Fraskyfizzle: writers inspirational quotes writing, when properly managed (as you may be sure i think mine is) is but a different name for conversation. - laurence sterne
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Wilfrid Scawen Blunt Poem
A Woman-s Sonnets: Ii
 by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Nay, dear one, ask me not to leave thee yet.
Let me a little longer hold thy hand.
Too soon it is to bid me to forget
The joys I was so late to understand.
The future holds but a blank face for me,
The past is all confused with tears and grey,
But the sweet present, while thy smiles I see,
Is perfect sunlight, an unclouded day.
...

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