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,¡¡¡¡And then people complain of the flour....BOOK TEN: 1812.? Victor Hugo....¡¡¡¡He was as careful of the sowing and reaping of the peasants' hay and corn as of his own, and few landowners had their crops sown and harvested so early and so well, or got so good a return, as did Nicholas.,¡¡¡¡*"Who goes there?" ...¡¡¡¡"This one flattered the other."!
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¡¡¡¡Count Rostov's mouth watered with pleasure and he nudged Pierre, but Pierre wanted to speak himself. He pushed forward, feeling stirred, but not yet sure what stirred him or what he would say. Scarcely had he opened his mouth when one of the senators, a man without a tooth in his head, with a shrewd though angry expression, standing near the first speaker, interrupted him. Evidently accustomed to managing debates and to maintaining an argument, he began in low but distinct tones:,HADLEY!¡¡¡¡When Pierre and his wife entered the drawing room the countess was in one of her customary states in which she needed the mental exertion of playing patience, and so- though by force of habit she greeted him with the words she always used when Pierre or her son returned after an absence: "High time, my dear, high time! We were all weary of waiting for you. Well, thank God!" and received her presents with another customary remark: "It's not the gift that's precious, my dear, but that you give it to me, an old woman..."- yet it was evident that she was not pleased by Pierre's arrival at that moment when it diverted her attention from the unfinished game.,¡¡¡¡Cosette, that man is an angel!". ,¡¡¡¡There is no one in Russian literature now, from schoolboy essayist to learned historian, who does not throw his little stone at Alexander for things he did wrong at this period of his reign.! Find out more.
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¡¡¡¡His father said to him:,¡¡¡¡Evidently Natasha needed to tell that painful yet joyful tale.,¡¡¡¡It had rained all night, the earth had been cut up by the downpour, the water had accumulated here and there in the hollows of the plain as if in casks; at some points the gear of the artillery carriages was buried up to the axles, the circingles of the horses were dripping with liquid mud.!HEYWOOD,¡¡¡¡"But anything suits you, my charmer!" she remarked.,¡¡¡¡Pompey was not destined to weep on that occasion, but it is certain that Caesar laughed.,FIRST EPILOGUE: 1813 - 20...Find out more.
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¡¡¡¡"Well, Mamma?... Well?...".¡¡¡¡On the 18th of June, that profound soul masked by marble beamed blindly. The man who had been gloomy at Austerlitz was gay at Waterloo. The greatest favorites of destiny make mistakes.,CHAPTER VIII ;,one thing, to prove and illustrate another, let him study the lawyers\' cases: so every !,¡¡¡¡Without heeding the end of the Italian's remarks, and as though not hearing them, the Emperor, recognizing Bolkonski, addressed him graciously.,¡¡¡¡The science of jurisprudence regards the state and power as the ancients regarded fire- namely, as something existing absolutely. But for history, the state and power are merely phenomena, just as for modern physics fire is not an element but a phenomenon....
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¡¡¡¡This, which is true of all great armed encounters, is particularly applicable to Waterloo.,¡¡¡¡He had heard that the Rostovs were at Kostroma but the thought of Natasha seldom occurred to him. If it did it was only as a pleasant memory of the distant past. He felt himself not only free from social obligations but also from that feeling which, it seemed to him, he had aroused in himself.,¡¡¡¡The group of prisoners had melted away most of all. Of the three hundred and thirty men who had set out from Moscow fewer than a hundred now remained. The prisoners were more burdensome to the escort than even the cavalry saddles or Junot's baggage. They understood that the saddles and Junot's spoon might be of some use, but that cold and hungry soldiers should have to stand and guard equally cold and hungry Russians who froze and lagged behind on the road (in which case the order was to shoot them) was not merely incomprehensible but revolting. And the escort, as if afraid, in the grievous condition they themselves were in, of giving way to the pity they felt for the prisoners and so rendering their own plight still worse, treated them with particular moroseness and severity.,¡¡¡¡In Paris, the identity which binds an individual to himself is broken between one street and another.,¡¡¡¡"Yes, of course," returned Anatole, evidently not listening to Dolokhov and looking straight before him with a smile that did not leave his face..¡¡¡¡"Do you like it better than Euphrasie?"...¡¡¡¡"My darling Mummy!" she repeated, straining all the power of her love to find some way of taking on herself the excess of grief that crushed her mother.,¡¡¡¡In the tavern, before which stood the doctor's covered cart, there were already some five officers. Mary Hendrikhovna, a plump little blonde German, in a dressing jacket and nightcap, was sitting on a broad bench in the front corner. Her husband, the doctor, lay asleep behind her. Rostov and Ilyin, on entering the room, were welcomed with merry shouts and laughter..
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; ,¡¡¡¡After breakfast, which was her best time, Marya Dmitrievna sat down in her armchair and called Natasha and the count to her..¡®In that room with the archway. They were just lurking out of sight, that's all. You heard them.¡¯;¡¡¡¡Thenardier had that peculiar rectilinear something about his gestures which, accompanied by an oath, recalls the barracks, and by a sign of the cross, the seminary....¡¡¡¡"Wonderful!" answered Natasha. "She's a woman one could easily fall in love with.",¡¡¡¡Natasha lay on the bed and in the semidarkness of the room scanned Princess Mary's face.,¡¡¡¡Only Countess Helene, considering the society of such people as the Bergs beneath her, could be cruel enough to refuse such an invitation. Berg explained so clearly why he wanted to collect at his house a small but select company, and why this would give him pleasure, and why though he grudged spending money on cards or anything harmful, he was prepared to run into some expense for the sake of good society- that Pierre could not refuse, and promised to come.!
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¡¡¡¡The historians of culture are quite consistent in regard to their progenitors, the writers of universal histories, for if historical events may be explained by the fact that certain persons treated one another in such and such ways, why not explain them by the fact that such and such people wrote such and such books? Of the immense number of indications accompanying every vital phenomenon, these historians select the indication of intellectual activity and say that this indication is the cause. But despite their endeavors to prove that the cause of events lies in intellectual activity, only by a great stretch can one admit that there is any connection between intellectual activity and the movement of peoples, and in no case can one admit that intellectual activity controls people's actions, for that view is not confirmed by such facts as the very cruel murders of the French Revolution resulting from the doctrine of the equality of man, or the very cruel wars and executions resulting from the preaching of love.,¡¡¡¡He said in an undertone, "Sublime!",¡¡¡¡"Is he still here?" she asked, quickly.,When factions are carried too high, and too violently, it is a sign of weakness in princes; and much to the prejudice, both of their authority, and business. The motions of factions, under kings, ought to be like the motions (as the astronomers speak) of the inferior orbs; which may have their proper motions, but yet still, are quietly carried by the higher motion of primum mobile.,¡¡¡¡The urchin's profound remark recalled Montparnasse to calmness and good sense.....¡¡¡¡"Shall we go?" ejaculated Bossuet.!¡¡¡¡The frightful 18th of June lives again; the false monumental hillock disappears, the lion vanishes in air, the battle-field resumes its reality, lines of infantry undulate over the plain, furious gallops traverse the horizon; the frightened dreamer beholds the flash of sabres, the gleam of bayonets, the flare of bombs, the tremendous interchange of thunders; he hears, as it were, the death rattle in the depths of a tomb, the vague clamor of the battle phantom; those shadows are grenadiers, those lights are cuirassiers; that skeleton Napoleon, that other skeleton is Wellington; all this no longer exists, and yet it clashes together and combats still; and the ravines are empurpled, and the trees quiver, and there is fury even in the clouds and in the shadows; all those terrible heights, Hougomont, Mont-Saint-Jean, Frischemont, Papelotte, Plancenoit, appear confusedly crowned with whirlwinds of spectres engaged in exterminating each other.!