United States or Guernsey ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
I was in the theatre, but not in the First Consul's box, and I observed, as all present must have done, the eagerness with which the audience applied to Napoleon and the King of Etruria the line in which Philoctetes says "J'ai fait des souverains et n'ai pas voulu l'etre." The application was so marked that it could not fail to become the subject of conversation between the First Consul and me.
"J'ai trouvé votre lettre fort
"I believe you." And, while she was undressing, the lines surged to her lips, and she whispered them: "Moi, j'ai blessé quelqu'un? fis-je tout étonnée Oui, dit-elle, blessé; mais blessé tout de bon; Et c'est l'homme qu'hier vous vîtes au balcon Las! qui pourrait, lui dis-je, en avoir été cause? Sur lui, sans y penser, fis-je choir quelque chose?" "You see, I have not grown thin."
"Comme je n'avais pas encore regagne d'appetit hier j'ai pense qu'il serait plus sage de rester ici encore un peu et je suis alle canoter sur la riviere. "Mr.
You are taking a wife," Varvara Petrovna hissed malignantly. "Oui, j'ai pris un mot pour un autre. Mais c'est egal." He gazed at her with a hopeless air. "I see that e'est egal," she muttered contemptuously through her teeth. "Good heavens! Why he's going to faint. Nastasya, Nastasya, water!" But water was not needed. He came to himself. Varvara Petrovna took up her umbrella.
Luc, who stood always with Montcalm, hummed softly and under his breath: "Hier, sur le pont d'Avignon, j'ai oui chanter la belle." "It goes well," he said to Montcalm. "Aye, a fair beginning," replied the Marquis. Fire ran through French veins. No cannon balls were coming from the enemy to sweep down their defenses.
This orang-outang assassinated two women, a mother and daughter. Et moi aussi, j'ai assassiné moralement deux femmes, la mère et sa fille. I have always taken this story as an allusion to my misfortunes. You, M. Baudelaire, would do me a great favour if you could find the date when Edgar Poe, supposing he was not assisted by any one, wrote his tale.
Enfin, voyez . . . Qu'est-ce que je voulais dire? Qu'est-ce que c'etait? Ah! je m'en souviens! . . . Salome! Non, venez plus pres de moi. J'ai peur que vous ne m'entendiez pas . . . Salome, vous connaissez mes paons blancs, mes beaux paons blancs, qui se promenent dans le jardin entre les myrtes et les grands cypres.
Nothing is so common to men as to fear to die and nothing more necessary, or men would soon cease to live. To fear death more than ignominy is the disgrace a truth which the French critic does not seem to have recognized when he twits the memory of Cicero with his scornful sneer. "J'ai peur."
It was Nancy who saw him, as she sat one morning learning a French verb, and staring meanwhile absently out of the schoolroom window. Her expression changed suddenly from utter vacancy to keen interest, and her monotonous murmur of "J'ai, Tu as, Il a," to a shout of, "Oh, Davie, there's Antony in the garden!" "Nancy," said Miss Grey severely, "you know it is against rules to talk in lesson time.
Word Of The Day