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With The Master Builder - or Master Builder Solness, as the title runs in the original - we enter upon the final stage in Ibsen's career. You are essentially right, the poet wrote to Count Prozor in March 1900, when you say that the series which closes with the Epilogue...
I do like a road, because you can be always wondering what is at the end of it.
MY DEAR MR. FIELDS, - I did promise to write an Introduction to these charming papers but an Introduction, - what is it? - a sort of pilaster, put upon the face of a building for looks' sake, and usually flat, - very flat. Sometimes it may be called a caryatid, which...
In his collection of Scottish proverbs from literary texts written before 1600 Bartlett Jere Whiting has laid a solid foundation for the investigation of early Scottish proverbs and has promised a survey of later collections. [1] The following brief remarks are not...
The author of the Dvoryanskoe Gnyezdo, or Nest of Nobles, of which a translation is now offered to the English reader under the title of Liza, is a writer of whom Russia may well be proud.[A] And that, not only because he is a consummate artist, - entitled as he is to...
MY DEAR COLVIN, - This is a hard and interesting and beautiful life that we lead now. Our place is in a deep cleft of Vaea Mountain, some six hundred feet above the sea, embowered in forest, which is our strangling enemy, and which we combat with axes and dollars. I...
Rechauffes are proverbially dangerous, but everyone runs into them sooner or later, and the world has done me the kindness so often to inquire after my first crude attempt, that after it has lain for many years 'out of print,' I have ventured to launch it once more -...
Early in the September of the year 1651 the afternoon sun was shining pleasantly into the dining-hall of Forest Lea House. The sunshine came through a large bay-window, glazed in diamonds, and with long branches of a vine trailing across it, but in parts the glass had...
Before perusing this work, it is as well that the reader should understand M. Zola's aim in writing it, and his views - as distinct from those of his characters - upon Lourdes, its Grotto, and its cures. A short time before the book appeared M. Zola was interviewed upon...
Another classic converted by eBooksLib.com.
Anne Shirley was curled up on the window-seat of Theodora Dix's sitting-room one Saturday evening, looking dreamily afar at some fair starland beyond the hills of sunset.Anne was visiting for a fortnight of her vacation at Echo Lodge, where Mr. and Mrs. Stephen Irving...
Near the end of my fourteenth year I was apprenticed to Valentine, King & Co., cotton importers, Liverpool, as a pair of legs. My father had died suddenly, leaving me and his property in the possession of my stepmother and my guardian. It was in deference to their...
In Paris, where men of thought and study bear a certain likeness to one another, living as they do in a common centre, you must have met with several resembling Monsieur Rabourdin, whose acquaintance we are about to make at a moment when he is head of a bureau in one of...
This book is an attempt to demonstrate several distinct and novel propositions. These are:
This somewhat frivolous narrative was produced as an interlude between stories of a more sober design, and it was given the sub-title of a comedy to indicate - though not quite accurately - the aim of the performance. A high degree of probability was not attempted in...
In 1913, when Anthony Patch was twenty-five, two years were already gone since irony, the Holy Ghost of this later day, had, theoretically at least, descended upon him. Irony was the final polish of the shoe, the ultimate dab of the clothes-brush, a sort of intellectual...
Now, I clean fergot to tell ye, stranger
On an afternoon late in April Feuerstein left his boarding-house in East Sixteenth Street, in the block just beyond the eastern gates of Stuyvesant Square, and paraded down Second Avenue.
When Mary Lennox was sent to Misselthwaite Manor to live with her uncle everybody said she was the most disagreeable-looking child ever seen. It was true, too. She had a little thin face and a little thin body, thin light hair and a sour expression. Her hair was...
My father's family name being Pirrip, and my Christian name Philip, my infant tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more explicit than Pip. So, I called myself Pip, and came to be called Pip.
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