United States or Bulgaria ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
To Ming-Y, as he drank, all things became more luminous as by enchantment; the walls of the chamber appeared to recede, and the roof to heighten; the lamps glowed like stars in their chains, and the voice of Sië floated to the boy's ears like some far melody heard through the spaces of a drowsy night.
Then, as she glanced about her, she added: "We must go pretty soon, because it is late; but oh, before we do, sweetheart, will you kiss me once more for all those years and years and years?" And David bent over and clasped her in his arms again, Sie ist mir ewig, ist mir immer, Erb und Eigen, ein und all! "When summer gathers up her robes of glory, And like a dream of beauty glides away."
"Would you like to say a lesson now and get one step in advance of all the others?" "O yes! I shall need at least as much grace as that." "Then say this after me: 'ICH WILL ALLES LERNEN, WAS SIE MICH LEHREN. Begin. "'ICH WILL ALLES LERNEN' but what does it mean?" "Oh, that is not important. Learn it first. Can you not trust me?
At the worst they would look at you as if they were somehow with you and say something sentimental. "Sie hat Heimweh" or something like that. Minna would.
For instance, the same sound, SIE, means YOU, and it means SHE, and it means HER, and it means IT, and it means THEY, and it means THEM. Think of the ragged poverty of a language which has to make one word do the work of six and a poor little weak thing of only three letters at that. But mainly, think of the exasperation of never knowing which of these meanings the speaker is trying to convey.
For Gerald came down like a sledge-hammer with his assertions, anything the little German said was merely contemptible rubbish. At last Loerke turned to Gudrun, raising his hands in helpless irony, a shrug of ironical dismissal, something appealing and child-like. 'Sehen sie, gnadige Frau-' he began. 'Bitte sagen Sie nicht immer, gnadige Frau, cried Gudrun, her eyes flashing, her cheeks burning.
He raised his shoulders, spread his hands in a shrug of slow indifference, as much as to inform her she was an amateur and an impertinent nobody. 'Wissen Sie, he said, with an insulting patience and condescension in his voice, 'that horse is a certain FORM, part of a whole form. It is part of a work of art, a piece of form.
"That's a thrush," she heard Bertha Martin say as a chattering flew across a distant garden and Fraulein's half-singing reply, "Know you, children, what the thrush says? Know you?" and Minna's eager voice sounding out into the open, "D'ja, d'ja, ich, weiss Ritzifizier, sagt sie, Ritzifizier, das vierundzwanzigste Jahr!" and voices imitating. "Spring! Spring!
But at the next landing-stage an elegant lady came and sat not far from her, and she grew lively at once: she talked eagerly to Christophe about things sentimental and distinguished. She had resumed with him the ceremonious Sie. Christophe was thinking about what she could say to her employer by way of excuse for her lateness. She was hardly at all concerned about it. "Bah!
And then there happens that which has been well and freshly described by the lamented Feuchtersleben, who died so young: how people cry out in their haste that nothing is being done, while all the while great work is quietly growing to maturity; and then, when it appears, it is not seen or heard in the clamor, but goes its way silently, in modest grief: "Ist doch" rufen sie vermessen Nichts im Werke, nichts gethan!"
Word Of The Day