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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. Dostoevsky. A Raw Youth (English. Подросток). Part III. Chapter I
Входимость: 1. Размер: 37кб.
2. Dostoevsky. The Brothers Karamazov (English. Братья Карамазовы). Part III. Book VII. Alyosha. Chapter 4. Cana of Galilee
Входимость: 1. Размер: 13кб.
3. Dostoevsky. The Possessed (English. Бесы). Part I. Chapter IV. The cripple
Входимость: 1. Размер: 79кб.

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1. Dostoevsky. A Raw Youth (English. Подросток). Part III. Chapter I
Входимость: 1. Размер: 37кб.
Часть текста: I am describing and want to describe other people, not myself, and if I keep coming in it's only a lamentable mistake, because I can't avoid it, however much I should like to. What I regret most is that I describe my own adventures with such heat; by doing so I give ground for supposing that I am still the same as I was. The reader will remember, however, that I have exclaimed more than once, "Oh, if one could only change the past and begin all over again!" I could not have uttered that exclamation if I were not radically changed and had not become an entirely different man now; that is quite evident. And no one can imagine how sick I am of these apologies and prefaces, which I am continually forced to squeeze into the very middle of my narrative! To return. After nine days' unconsciousness I came to myself, regenerated but not reformed; my regeneration was a stupid one, however, of course, if the word is taken in the wide sense, and perhaps if it had happened now it would have been different. The idea, or rather the feeling, that...
2. Dostoevsky. The Brothers Karamazov (English. Братья Карамазовы). Part III. Book VII. Alyosha. Chapter 4. Cana of Galilee
Входимость: 1. Размер: 13кб.
Часть текста: of rest and repose after a day of such agitation for all. Alyosha timidly opened the door and went into the elder's cell where his coffin was now standing. There was no one in the cell but Father Paissy, reading the Gospel in solitude over the coffin, and the young novice Porfiry, who, exhausted by the previous night's conversation and the disturbing incidents of the day, was sleeping the deep sound sleep of youth on the floor of the other room. Though Father Paissy heard Alyosha come in, he did not even look in his direction. Alyosha turned to the right from the door to the corner, fell on his knees and began to pray. His soul was overflowing but with mingled feelings; no single sensation stood out distinctly; on the contrary, one drove out another in a slow, continual rotation. But there was a sweetness in his heart and, strange to say, Alyosha was not surprised at it. Again he saw that coffin before him, the hidden dead figure so precious to him, but the weeping and poignant grief of the morning was no longer aching in his soul. As soon as he came in, he fell down before the coffin as before a holy shrine,...
3. Dostoevsky. The Possessed (English. Бесы). Part I. Chapter IV. The cripple
Входимость: 1. Размер: 79кб.
Часть текста: in awe of Liza. They were pleased to see us. Liza flushed with pleasure, and saying “ merci ” to me, on Shatov's account of course, went to meet him, looking at him with interest. Shatov stopped awkwardly in the doorway. Thanking him for coming she led him up to her mother. “This is Mr. Shatov, of whom I have told you, and this is Mr. G——v, a great friend of mine and of Stepan Trofimovitch's. Mavriky Nikolaevitch made his acquaintance yesterday, too.” “And which is the professor?” “There's no professor at all, maman.” “But there is. You said yourself that there'd be a professor. It's this one, probably.” She disdainfully indicated Shatov. “I didn't tell you that there'd be a professor. Mr. G——v is in the service, and Mr. Shatov is a former student.” “A student or professor, they all come from the university just the same. You only want to argue. But the Swiss one had moustaches and a beard.” “It's the son of Stepan Trofimovitch that maman always calls the professor,” said Liza, and she took Shatov away to the sofa at the other end of the drawing-room. “When her legs swell, she's always like this, you understand she's ill,” she whispered to Shatov, still with the same marked curiosity, scrutinising him, especially his shock of hair. “Are you an officer?” the old lady inquired of me. Liza had mercilessly abandoned me to her. “N-no.—I'm in the service. . . .” “Mr. G——v is a great friend of Stepan Trofimovitch's,” Liza chimed in immediately. “Are you in Stepan Trofimovitch's service? Yes, and he's a professor, too, isn't he?” “Ah, maman, you must dream at night of professors,” cried Liza with...