Books author - "Fyodor Dostoyevsky"
is inclined to grumble, but do not mindthat, Barbara. God bless her, for she is an excellent soul!But what sort of an abode have I lighted upon, Barbara Alexievna?What sort of a tenement, do you think, is this? Formerly, as youknow, I used to live in absolute stillness--so much so that if afly took wing it could plainly be heard buzzing. Here, however,all is turmoil and shouting and clatter. The PLAN of the tenementyou know already. Imagine a long corridor, quite dark, and by nomeans clean. To
s a new and a miraculous revelation superseding the old revelation of fifteen hundred years ago, when Thou didst so repeatedly tell the people: "The truth shall make you free." Behold then, Thy "free" people now!' adds the old man with sombre irony. 'Yea!... it has cost us dearly.' he continues, sternly looking at his victim. 'But we have at last accomplished our task, and--in Thy name.... For fifteen long centuries we had to toil and suffer owing to that
rently in token of approval and assent to all this, and bent an inquisitorial interrogative gaze upon his visitor."I have come to trouble you a second time, Krestyan Ivanovitch," began Mr. Golyadkin, with a smile, "and now I venture to ask your indulgence a second time...." He was obviously at a loss for words. "H'm... Yes!" pronounced Krestyan Ivanovitch, puffing out a spiral of smoke and putting down his cigar on the table, "but you must follow the treatment
o go to such lengths, and I also hate you and stillmore--because you are so necessary to me. For the time being Iwant you, so I must keep you."Then she made a movement to rise. Her tone had sounded veryangry. Indeed, of late her talks with me had invariably ended ona note of temper and irritation--yes, of real temper. "May I ask you who is this Mlle. Blanche?" I inquired (since Idid not wish Polina to depart without an explanation). "You KNOW who she is--just Mlle. Blanche.
irts of the town. My servant is an old country-woman, ill-natured from stupidity, and, moreover, there is always a nastysmell about her. I am told that the Petersburg climate is bad for me, andthat with my small means it is very expensive to live in Petersburg. Iknow all that better than all these sage and experienced counsellors andmonitors. ... But I am remaining in Petersburg; I am not going awayfrom Petersburg! I am not going away because ... ech! Why, it isabsolutely no matter whether I am
is inclined to grumble, but do not mindthat, Barbara. God bless her, for she is an excellent soul!But what sort of an abode have I lighted upon, Barbara Alexievna?What sort of a tenement, do you think, is this? Formerly, as youknow, I used to live in absolute stillness--so much so that if afly took wing it could plainly be heard buzzing. Here, however,all is turmoil and shouting and clatter. The PLAN of the tenementyou know already. Imagine a long corridor, quite dark, and by nomeans clean. To
s a new and a miraculous revelation superseding the old revelation of fifteen hundred years ago, when Thou didst so repeatedly tell the people: "The truth shall make you free." Behold then, Thy "free" people now!' adds the old man with sombre irony. 'Yea!... it has cost us dearly.' he continues, sternly looking at his victim. 'But we have at last accomplished our task, and--in Thy name.... For fifteen long centuries we had to toil and suffer owing to that
rently in token of approval and assent to all this, and bent an inquisitorial interrogative gaze upon his visitor."I have come to trouble you a second time, Krestyan Ivanovitch," began Mr. Golyadkin, with a smile, "and now I venture to ask your indulgence a second time...." He was obviously at a loss for words. "H'm... Yes!" pronounced Krestyan Ivanovitch, puffing out a spiral of smoke and putting down his cigar on the table, "but you must follow the treatment
o go to such lengths, and I also hate you and stillmore--because you are so necessary to me. For the time being Iwant you, so I must keep you."Then she made a movement to rise. Her tone had sounded veryangry. Indeed, of late her talks with me had invariably ended ona note of temper and irritation--yes, of real temper. "May I ask you who is this Mlle. Blanche?" I inquired (since Idid not wish Polina to depart without an explanation). "You KNOW who she is--just Mlle. Blanche.
irts of the town. My servant is an old country-woman, ill-natured from stupidity, and, moreover, there is always a nastysmell about her. I am told that the Petersburg climate is bad for me, andthat with my small means it is very expensive to live in Petersburg. Iknow all that better than all these sage and experienced counsellors andmonitors. ... But I am remaining in Petersburg; I am not going awayfrom Petersburg! I am not going away because ... ech! Why, it isabsolutely no matter whether I am