United States or Latvia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
And then the music stopped, the Brasserie des Quatre Vents became a glaring reality, and the painted female sipping eau-de-vie at my elbow remarked plaintively, 'Tu n'es pas rigolo, toi. Veux-tu faire une valse? 'I must speak to your musician, I said. 'Excuse me. He had played a bit of Pair's music.
"Non, ton pere a Paris, ne fut point boulanger: Et tu n'es point du sang de Gervais, l'horloger; Ta mere ne fut point la maitresse d'un coche; Caucase dans ses flancs te forma d'une roche; Une tigresse affreuse, en quelque antre ecarte, Te fit, avec son lait, succer sa cruaute."
"Fi donc, Mademoiselle, tu n'es pas raisonnable," cries a sweet shrill little voice close to him, "tu es vraiment insupportable aujourd'hui."
But Boris, you are not saying anything, tu n'es pas en train, mon vieux, you are wrong, brother. You have every reason to be of good cheer, a tremendous lot of reason," and he bowed slightly toward Billy, "but we'll manage that all right. Wolf, come here with some of your sinful champagne.
Seems to me there are two Black Boys out there, n'es c' pas?" And if such coffee as Jeanne Falla made, with milk warm from the cow, could have been curdled by sour looks, young Torode had surely not found his cup to his liking. His ill-humour was not simply ill-concealed, it was barely kept within bounds, and was, to say the least of it, but poor return for Aunt Jeanne's double hospitality.
which I have somewhere seen thus rendered into French: "Souffle, souffle, vent d'hiver! Tu n'es pas si cruel Que l'ingratitude de l'homme. Ta dent n'est pas si penetrante," etc., etc. Why are we inclined to laugh as we read this? Because it excites in us an undercurrent of consciousness which, if put into words, might run something like this: "Insufflate, insufflate, wind hibernal!
Madame entered the salon, her light quick steps ringing on the parquet, her holiday voice clear as a carol, her holiday figure gay as a showy-plumaged bird. "Ma chérie, tu n'es pas sortie? tu ne fais rien?" Bessie awoke from her reverie, and confessed that she was idle this morning, very idle and uncomfortably restless: it was the heat, she thought, and she breathed a vast sigh.
In the introduction to his famous romance d'Urfé wrote in answer to objectors: 'Responds leur, ma Bergere, que pour peu qu'ils ayent connoissance de toy, ils sçauront que tu n'es pas, ny celles aussi qui te suivent, de ces Bergeres necessiteuses, qui pour gaigner leur vie conduisent les troupeaux aux pasturages; mais que vous n'avez toutes pris cette condition que pour vivre plus doucement et sans contrainte. No wonder that to Fontenelle Theocritus' shepherds 'sentent trop la campagne . But the hour of pastoralism had come, and while the ladies and gallants of the court were playing the parts of Watteau swains and shepherdesses amid the trim hedges and smooth lawns of Versailles, the gates were already bursting before the flood, which was to sweep in devastation over the land, and to purge the old order of social life.
"Mon fils, as-tu du coeur?" she cried when she saw me, and then giggled. Her laugh had always been a very cheerful one, and at times it even sounded sincere. "Tout autre " I began, paraphrasing Corneille. "See here," she prattled on. "Please search for my stockings, and help me to dress. Aussi, si tu n'es pas trop bete je te prends a Paris. I am just off, let me tell you." "This moment?"
"Et toi, mon pauvre Chicot," says she, "est-ce qu'on t'a mis a la retraite? Il parait que tu n'es plus General chez Franco " "CHUT!" says the Baron, putting his finger to his lips. "What are they saying, my dear?" says my wife to Jemimarann, who had a pretty knowledge of the language by this time.
Word Of The Day