What dreadful misfortune awaited them among the savage hordes intoxicated with blood?
They did not, however, infect the air as the Sudanese sun dried them up like mummies; all had the hue of gray parchment, and were so much alike that the bodies of the Europeans, Egyptians, and negroes...
He began to fear whether in the presence of far greater events, all his acts would not fade into insignificance, just as a drop of rain disappears into the sea.
More than once have I thought, Why does crime, even when as powerful as Cæsar, and assured of being beyond punishment, strive always for the appearances of truth, justice, and virtue? Why does it take...
Tell me,' asked Stas, 'what is a wicked deed?' 'If anyone takes away Kali's cow,' he answered after a brief reflection, 'that then is a wicked deed.' 'Excellent!' exclaimed Stas, 'and what is a good o...
In the meantime the groans changed into the protracted, thunderous roar by which all living creatures are struck with terror, and the nerves of people, who do not know what fear is, shake, just as the...
But the French writers always had more originality and independence than others, and that regulator, which elsewhere was religion, long since ceased to exist for them.
»Roma se tapa los oídos cuando te oye; y el mundo se ríe de ti.
The world has robbed me of my love, time has dried up hatred, and as the living individual must feel something, I live upon what remains to me. I must also say that he who feels and lives thus does no...
It seemed that out of every tear of a martyr new confessors were born, and that every groan on the arena found an echo in thousands of breasts. Caesar was swimming in blood, Rome and the whole pagan w...
And all at once he saw before him a precipice, as it were without bottom. He was a patrician, a military tribune, a powerful man; but above every power of that world to which he belonged was a madman...
How utterly unprofitable my life is! These continual searchings of my mind are leading me into the desert.
Youth is the one worthwhile treasure in this world, no matter how miserable the rest of life might be.
There was only one who understood me, and he understood me wrongly. Miss
I renounced complete happiness in order to secure a part of it.
Hatred is degenerated love,
First wrong.
Jakie społeczeństwo, taka literatura.
It is difficult to imagine love without generosity, without a desire to make some sacrifices. To-day
Homesickness springs from the isolation of the soul from its surroundings.