Discuss the semantics and structural peculiarities of antithesis: 1. Mrs. Nork had a large home and a small husband. (S.L.) 2. In marriage the upkeep of woman is often the…

Discuss the semantics and structural peculiarities of antithesis: 1. Mrs. Nork had a large home and a small husband. (S.L.) 2. In marriage the upkeep of woman is often the downfall of man. (Ev.) 3. Don't use big words. They mean so little. (O.W.) 4. I like big parties. They're so intimate. At small parties there isn't any privacy. (Sc.F.) 5. There is Mr. Guppy, who was at first as open as the sun at noon, but who suddenly shut up as close as midnight. (D.) 6. Such a scene as there was when Kit came in! Such a confusion of tongues, before the circumstances were related and the proofs disclosed! Such a dead silence when all was told! (D.) 7. Rup wished he could be swift, accurate, compassionate and stern instead of clumsy and vague and sentimental. (I.Μ.) 8. His coat-sleeves being a great deal too long, and his trousers a great deal too short, he appeared ill at ease in his clothes. (D.) 9. There was something eery about the apartment house, an unearthly quiet that was a combination of overcarpeting and underoccupancy. (H.St.) 10. It is safer to be married to the man you can be happy with than to the man you cannot be happy without. (E.) 11. Then came running down stairs a gentleman with whiskers, out of breath. (D.) 12. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair; we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way in short the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only. (D.) 13. Cannery Row in Monterey in California is a poem, a stink, a grating noise, a quality of light, a tone, a habit, a nostalgia, a dream. Cannery Row is the gathered and scattered, tin and iron, and rust and splintered wood, chipped pavement and weedy lots and junk heaps, sardine canneries of corrugated iron, honky tonks, restaurants and whore houses and little crowded groceries and laboratories and flophouses. Its inhabitants are, as the man once said "Whores, pimps, gamblers and sons of bitches", by which he meant Everybody. Had the man looked through another peephole he might have said "Saints and angels and martyrs and holy men" and he would have meant the same thing. (J. St.)