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А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И Й К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я
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1. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter one
Входимость: 1. Размер: 72кб.
2. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter three
Входимость: 1. Размер: 61кб.
3. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Fragments of Onegin's journey
Входимость: 1. Размер: 26кб.
4. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 17 - 21
Входимость: 1. Размер: 52кб.

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1. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter one
Входимость: 1. Размер: 72кб.
Часть текста: a gage   4  that would be worthier of you —   be worthier of a fine soul   full of a holy dream,   of live and limpid poetry,   8  of high thoughts and simplicity.   But so be it. With partial hand   take this collection of pied chapters:   half droll, half sad, 12  plain-folk, ideal,   the careless fruit of my amusements,   insomnias, light inspirations,   unripe and withered years, 16  the intellect's cold observations,   and the heart's sorrowful remarks. CHAPTER ONE To live it hurries and to feel it hastes. Prince Vyazemski I   “My uncle has most honest principles:   when he was taken gravely ill,   he forced one to respect him   4  and nothing better could invent.   To others his example is a lesson;   but, good God, what a bore to sit   by a sick person day and night, not stirring   8  a step away!   What base perfidiousness   to entertain one...
2. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter three
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Часть текста: THREE Elle était fille; elle était amoureuse. Malfilâtre I   “Whither? Ah me, those poets!”   “Good-by, Onegin. Time for me to leave.”   “I do not hold you, but where do   4  you spend your evenings?” “At the Larins'.”   “Now, that's a fine thing. Mercy, man —   and you don't find it difficult   thus every evening to kill time?”   8  “Not in the least.” “I cannot understand.   From here I see what it is like:   first — listen, am I right? —   a simple Russian family, 12  a great solicitude for guests,   jam, never-ending talk   of rain, of flax, of cattle yard.” II   “So far I do not see what's bad about it.”   “Ah, but the boredom — that is bad, my friend.”   “Your fashionable world I hate;   4  dearer to me is the domestic...
3. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Fragments of Onegin's journey
Входимость: 1. Размер: 26кб.
Часть текста: to reprehension and gibes (no doubt most just and witty). The author candidly confesses that he omitted from his novel a whole chapter in which Onegin's journey across Russia was described. It depended upon him to designate this omitted chapter by means of dots or a numeral; but to avoid ambiguity he decided it would be better to mark as number eight, instead of nine, the last chapter of Eugene Onegin, and to sacrifice one of its closing stanzas [Eight: XLVIIIa]:    'Tis time: the pen for peace is asking   nine cantos I have written;   my boat upon the joyful shore   4  by the ninth billow is brought out.   Praise be to you, O nine Camenae, etc. “P[avel] A[leksandrovich] Katenin (whom a fine poetic talent does not prevent from being also a subtle critic) observed to us that this exclusion, though perhaps advantageous to readers, is, however, detrimental to the plan of the entire work since, through this, the transition from Tatiana the provincial miss to Tatiana the grande dame becomes too unexpected and unexplained: an observation revealing the experienced artist. The author himself felt the justice of this but decided to leave out the chapter for reasons important to him but not to the public. Some fragments [XVI–XIX, l–10] have been published [Jan. 1, 1830, Lit. Gaz. ] ; we insert them here, subjoining to them several other stanzas.” E. [sic] Onegin drives from Moscow to Nizhni Novgorod: [IX]   . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   . . . . . . . . . . . . before him   Makariev bustlingly bestirs itself,   4  with its abundance seethes.   Here the Hindu brought pearls,   the European, spurious wines,  ...
4. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 17 - 21
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Часть текста: I kept itusing it for a totally different purpose. In order to break some pattern of fate in which I obscurely felt myself being enmeshed, I had decideddespite Lo’s visible annoyanceto spend another night at Chestnut Court; definitely waking up at four in the morning, I ascertained that Lo was still sound asleep (mouth open, in a kind of dull amazement at the curiously inane life we all had rigged up for her) and satisfied myself that the precious contents of the “luizetta” were safe. There, snugly wrapped in a white woolen scarf, lay a pocket automatic: caliber. 32, capacity of magazine 8 cartridges, length a little under one ninth of Lolita’s length, stock checked walnut, finish full blued. I had inherited it from the late Harold Haze, with a 1938 catalog which cheerily said in part: “Particularly well adapted for use in the home and car as well as on the person.” There it lay, ready for instant service on the person or persons, loaded and fully cocked with the slide lock in safety position, thus precluding any accidental discharge. We must remember that a pistol is the Freudian symbol of the Ur-father’s central forelimb. I was now glad I had it with meand even more glad that I had learned to use it two years before, in the pine forest around my and Charlotte’s glass lake. Farlow, with whom I had roamed those remote woods, was an admirable marksman, and with his. 38 actually managed to hit a hummingbird, though I must say not ...