Twenty-seven-year old Anne Elliot is Austen's most adult heroine. Eight years before the story proper begins, she is happily betrothed to a naval officer, Frederick Wentworth, but she precipitously breaks off the engagement when persuaded by her friend Lady Russell that such a match is unworthy. The breakup produces in Anne a deep and long-lasting regret. When later Wentworth returns from sea a rich and successful captain, he finds Anne's family on the brink of financial ruin and his own sister a tenant in Kellynch Hall, the Elliot estate. All the tension of the novel revolves around one question: Will Anne and Wentworth be reunited in their love?Jane Austen once compared her writing to painting on a little bit of ivory, 2 inches square. Readers of Persuasion will discover that neither her skill for delicate, ironic observations on social custom, love, and marriage nor her ability to apply a sharp focus lens to English manners and morals has deserted her in her final finished work.

Káprázatos, borzongtató, lélegzetelállító. T?kéletes. - Meg Rossoff Sally Gardner megd?bbent? regénye egy kegyetlen világban játszódik. Standish Treadwell - akinek kül?nb?z? szín?ek a szemei, és diszlexiája miatt nem tud írni-olvasni sem - egyetlen barátjával, Hectorral átmászik a várost k?rülvev? fal túloldalára, és ráj?nnek, mit rejteget el?lük az Anyaf?ld. Attól a pillanattól kezdve, hogy a két kamasz ráj?n egy óriási titokra, ami kapcsolatban van a Holdra szállással, az életük veszélybe kerül. Száz nagyon r?vid fejezet, t?kéletesen egyedi elbeszélésmódban, mely szinte végighajszolja az olvasót a t?rténeten, mert egyszerre izgalmas és s?tét humorú, lakatlan és borzongtató, gy?ngéd és elragadó. A Hold legs?tétebb oldala eredeti és megindító t?rténet, melyben a barátság és a bizalom az igazi fegyver. Sally Gardner Londonban n?tt fel, ma is ott él. Gyerekként maga is megküzd?tt a diszlexiával, egészen 14 éves koráig nem tanult meg sem írni, sem olvasni. Ikrei születése után kezdett regényeket publikálni, melyek a mágikus és t?rténelmi realizmus egyedi keverékei, stílusuk és témájuk kihívás az olvasóknak, akiket beszippant az általa teremtett világ. Sally szenvedélyesen hiszi, hogy a fiatal olvasókat inspirálni és szórakoztatni kell a k?nyvekkel, mint ahogy azt A Hold legs?tétebb oldala is bizonyítja, melyet számos díjjal tüntettek ki.

As a dense yellow fog swirls through the streets of London, a deep melancholy has descended on Sherlock Holmes, who sits in a cocaine-induced haze at 221B Baker Street. His mood is only lifted by a visit from a beautiful but distressed young woman - Mary Morstan, whose father vanished ten years before. Four years later she began to receive an exquisite gift every year: a large, lustrous pearl. Now she has had an intriguing invitation to meet her unknown benefactor and urges Holmes and Watson to accompany her. And in the ensuing investigation - which involves a wronged woman, a stolen hoard of Indian treasure, a wooden-legged ruffian, a helpful dog and a love affair - even the jaded Holmes is moved to exclaim, 'Isn't it gorgeous!'For more than seventy years, Penguin has been the leading publisher of classic literature in the English-speaking world. With more than 1,700?titles, Penguin Classics represents a global bookshelf of the best works throughout history and across genres and disciplines. Readers trust the?series to provide authoritative texts enhanced by introductions and notes by distinguished scholars and contemporary authors, as well as up-to-date?translations by award-winning translators.

The Sherlock Holmes series read in unabridged form by David Timson is widely regarded as one of the finest. Here, Timson brings his remarkable performance skills to one of Doyle's full-length novels. Holmes and faithful Dr. Watson are summoned to a country house by a coded message. They arrive too late to save a life, but pursue the trail to unmasking the murderer.

Pali kilencéves. Magányos otthon és az iskolában is. Egyik téli reggel aztán a mogorva újságárus csodálatos üveggolyót ad neki. Délutánra a konyhában felt?nik egy Egér, az ablakban megtelepszik egy Pók, egy Légy és egy Katica. Kik ezek és mit akarnak Palitól? Talán a rejtélyekre is fény derül, mikor egy picike kislány magával rántja a fiút a tük?rbe…

The friends of Mr. Sherlock Holmes will be glad to learn that he is still alive and well, though somewhat crippled by occasional attacks of rheumatism. He has, for many years, lived in a small farm upon the downs five miles from Eastbourne, where his time is divided between philosophy and agriculture.

A Torzonborz, a rabló és a Torzonborz újabb gaztettei után itt a trilógia befejez? darabja, a Torzonborz megjavul. Otfried Preu?ler legeslegutolsó paprikajancsis és vitézlászlós t?rténete. ?jra felbukkan Torzonborz, a rabló. ?s ez bizony megrémíti Paprika Jancsit, Vitéz Lászlót, Nagymamát, s?t még ?st?llési századost is. De akkor ijednek meg csak igazán, mikor Torzonborz bejelenti: sz?gre akasztja széles karimájú kalapját és felhagy a rablómesterséggel. Vajon mihez kezd ezután az egykori hétt?r?s gazember...? Az életkori besorolás 6+

How he put his fist through the oak-panel of the game-room door; how, when Long Merridew was carrying the ball, he caught up Merridew, ball and all, and ran swiftly past every opponent to the goal. It did not seem fit to us that such a one as he should trouble his head about spondees and dactyls, or care to know who signed Magna Charta. When he said in open class that King Alfred was the man, we little boys all felt that very likely it was so, and that perhaps Jim knew more about it than the man who wrote the book. Well, it was this business of the burglar that drew his attention to me; for he patted me on my head, and said that I was a spunky little devil, which blew me out with pride for a week on end. For two years we were close friends, for all the gap that the years had made between us, and though in passion or in want of thought he did many a thing that galled me, yet I loved him like a brother, and wept as much as would have filled an ink bottle when at last he went off to Edinburgh to study his father's profession. Five years after that did I bide at Birtwhistle's, and when I left I had become cock myself, for I was as wiry and as tough as whalebone, though I never ran to weight and sinew like my great predecessor. It was in Jubilee Year that I left Birtwhistle's, and then for three years I stayed at home learning the ways of the cattle; but still the ships and the armies were wrestling, and still the great shadow of Bonaparte lay across the country. How could I guess that I too should have a hand in lifting that shadow forever from our people?

Borbély Szilárd új prózak?tete tematikusan is kapcsolódik a Halotti pompa lírai requiemjéhez. Itt is a k?nyv centrumában a 2000. év karácsony t?rtént brutális kett?s gyilkosság és a szül?k elvesztésének fájdalma áll. De immár a próza nyelvén és eszk?zeivel: a dokumentumok, rend?rségi jegyz?k?nyvek és a személyes emlékek megidézésével azért t?rténik az írói nyomozás, hogy valamiképpen megérthesse az anya meggyilkolásának tragédiáját, illetve a b?ntény lezáratlanságát, azaz a b?n?s?k szabadon engedését (Egy b?ntény mellékszálai).

Amúgy is knnyen ragadtatom magam e knyv kapcsán a mindig gyanús szuperlatívuszokra: mesterm. A regény nyelve és tárgya hibátlanul találkozott, csndes ragyogása van a szvegnek. Pontos és drámai korrajz, lélekrajz, emberrajz. Mit jelent a nincsben lenni, mit jelent a nincs agresszivitásában élni Mit jelent, amikor minden totális, kint is, bent is, a kiszolgáltatottság, a szorongás, az állam, az apa, minden totális. Mit jelent éhezni Mit jelent, amikor semminek sem lehet lenni, jónak se Amikor szeretni sem szabad. De azért mégis szeretünk. Elegáns és nyomasztó knyv. Bátor knyv, amely ismeri a félelmet. Mint a jó irodalom mindig, rólunk szól, éljünk bárhol is a világon.“ (Esterházy Péter)

Galántai Zsófi úgy érzi, célba ért. Sikeres a munkájában, és végre ?sszek?lt?zhet a szerelmével. Aztán j?n egy furcsa, szégyenteljes, mégis felejthetetlen éjszaka egy messzir?l j?tt idegennel, és Zsófi jól felépített élete ?sszeomlik. Mindent hátrahagyva elindul a mexikói után, aki titokzatos jeleket hagy számára szerte a világban... Szerelem? Kalandvágy? Zarándoklat? - vajon mi hajtja a magyar lányt egyre egzotikusabb tájak, egyre veszélyesebb kalandok, és ?nmaga számára is ismeretlen énje felé?? Mi ad t?bb muníciót a lelkünknek: ha bátran kilépünk a megszokott és talán unalmas életünkb?l, vállalva a kockázatot, hogy veszítünk - vagy ha vágyainkat elnyomva éljük mindennapjainkat? Merre vezet az utunk? Hol jobb: útk?zben vagy "célba érve"? Fej?s ?va bestsellere most új kiadásban kerülhet az olvasó kezébe. A mexikói krimibe ill? izgalmakat, igazi lélektani drámát és jó szórakozást ígér.

In offering this study to a public accustomed only to the unquestioning acceptance of the home as something perfect, holy, quite above discussion, a word of explanation is needed. First, let it be clearly and definitely stated, the purpose of this book is to maintain and improve the home. Criticism there is, deep and thorough; but not with the intention of robbing us of one essential element of home life—rather of saving us from conditions not only unessential, but gravely detrimental to home life. Every human being should have a home; the single person his or her home; and the family their home. The home should offer to the individual rest, peace, quiet, comfort, health, and that degree of personal expression requisite; and these conditions should be maintained by the best methods of the time. The home should be to the child a place of happiness and true development; to the adult a place of happiness and that beautiful reinforcement of the spirit needed by the world's workers. We are here to perform our best service to society, and to find our best individual growth and expression; a right home is essential to both these uses. The place of childhood's glowing memories, of youth's ideals, of the calm satisfaction of mature life, of peaceful shelter for the aged; this is not attacked, this we shall not lose, but gain more universally. What is here asserted is that our real home life is clogged and injured by a number of conditions which are not necessary, which are directly inimical to the home; and that we shall do well to lay these aside. As to the element of sanctity—that which is really sacred can bear examination, no darkened room is needed for real miracles; mystery and shadow belong to jugglers, not to the truth. The home is a human institution. All human institutions are open to improvement. This specially dear and ancient one, however, we have successfully kept shut, and so it has not improved as have some others.

It is a cumulative tale that does not tell the story of Jack's house, or even of Jack who built the house, but instead shows how the house is indirectly linked to other things and people, and through this method tells the story of "The man all tattered and torn", and the "Maiden all forlorn", as well as other smaller events, showing how these are interlinked. Origins: It has been argued that the rhyme is derived from an Aramaic hymn Chad Gadya (lit., "One Young Goat") in Sepher Haggadah, first printed in 1590; but although this is an early cumulative tale that may have inspired the form, the lyrics bear little relationship. It was suggested by James Orchard Halliwell that the reference to the "priest all shaven and shorn" indicates that the English version is probably very old, presumably as far back as the mid-sixteenth century. There is a possible reference to the song in The Boston New Letter of 12 April 1739 and the line: "This is the man all forlorn, &c". However, it did not appear in print until it was included in Nurse Truelove's New-Year's-Gift, or the Book of Books for Children, printed in London in 1755. It was printed in numerous collections in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. Randolph Caldecott produced an illustrated version in 1878. Cherrington Manor, a handsome timber-framed house in North East Shropshire, England, is reputed to be the actual house that Jack built. There is a former malt house in the grounds. Syntactic structure: Each sentence in the story is an example of an increasingly deeply nested relative clause. The last version, "This is the horse...", would be quite difficult to untangle if the previous ones were not present. See the Noun Phrase for more details about postmodification of the noun phrase in this manner. References in popular culture: The rhyme continues to be a popular choice for illustrated children's books, with recent examples by Simms Taback and Quentin Blake showing how illustrators can introduce a fresh angle and humour into a familiar tale. The popularity of the rhyme can be seen in its use in a variety of other cultural contexts..

An afternoon of a cold winter’s day, when the sun shone forth with chilly brightness, after a long storm, two children asked leave of their mother to run out and play in the new-fallen snow. The elder child was a little girl, whom, because she was of a tender and modest disposition, and was thought to be very beautiful, her parents, and other people who were familiar with her, used to call Violet. But her brother was known by the style and title of Peony, on account of the ruddiness of his broad and round little phiz, which made everybody think of sunshine and great scarlet flowers. The father of these two children, a certain Mr. Lindsey, it is important to say, was an excellent, but exceedingly matter-of-fact sort of man, a dealer in hardware, and was sturdily accustomed to take what is called the common-sense view of all matters that came under his consideration. With a heart about as tender as other people’s, he had a head as hard and impenetrable, and therefore, perhaps, as empty, as one of the iron pots which it was a part of his business to sell. The mother’s character, on the other hand, had a strain of poetry in it, a trait of unworldly beauty—a delicate and dewy flower, as it were, that had survived out of her imaginative youth, and still kept itself alive amid the dusty realities of matrimony and motherhood. So, Violet and Peony, as I began with saying, besought their mother to let them run out and play in the new snow; for, though it had looked so dreary and dismal, drifting downward out of the gray sky, it had a very cheerful aspect, now that the sun was shining on it. The children dwelt in a city, and had no wider play-place than a little garden before the house, divided by a white fence from the street, and with a pear-tree and two or three plum-trees overshadowing it, and some rose-bushes just in front of the parlor windows. The trees and shrubs, however, were now leafless, and their twigs were enveloped in the light snow, which thus made a kind of wintry foliage, with here and there a pendent icicle for the fruit. “Yes, Violet,—yes, my little Peony,” said their kind mother; “you may go out and play in the new snow.”

Holmes decodes a warning from Porlock, an informant against arch-criminal Moriarty, for "Douglas" resident five years at "Birlstone". Scotland Yard's MacDonald asks them to investigate a corpse with the same look and circle-in-triangle brand on the forearm as Birlstone owner Douglas. The head was blown off by an American-style sawed-off shotgun. Apparently, an intruder dropped a card with VV341, and left across a shallow moat. Watson observes the bereaved English wife and best male friend in unusually good spirits. When Holmes pretends the moat will be drained, the conspirators retrieve a missing dumb-bell weighting down the visitor's clothes beneath the water. Douglas comes from hiding, to explain he killed the assassin Baldwin in self-defence; the plan was to save him from more attacks by criminal survivors of Vermissa Valley. He hands Dr. Watson the following account. Young McMurdo gains reputation as tough counterfeiter, Freemen Lodge member fleeing murder charges in Chicago. In the Vermissa coal mine area, McGinty rules Scowrers branded by a circle in square, the local Lodge 341 who extort, murder, and exchange vicious deeds with nearby Lodges. Pretty Ettie prefers McMurdo to nasty Baldwin, and wants to flee, but will wait some months. When word comes that Pinkerton sent Edwards, McMurdo gathers ringleaders in one room, and springs his trap on them, surrounded by the law. Although the worst were hanged, after ten years, villains were freed, and chased McMurdo-Edwards-Douglas, despite changes of name, location, and wife. He married Ettie, then she died in California, where he made a fortune. The Valley of Fear, notable for Professor Moriarty's involvement, is set before "The Final Problem", the short story in which Moriarty was introduced. This introduces a logical difficulty, as in "The Final Problem" Dr. Watson has never heard of Moriarty, whereas by the end of The Valley Of Fear he is, or should be, familiar with his name and character. The "Moriarty" element in the story is tied into the fate of the informer in the story. It ties the Molly Maguire background to another event of that period: the murder of James Carey, an informer who was shot on board a ship off the coast of Natal, South Africa in 1883 by Patrick O'Donnell, an Irish republican who had relatives in the Mollies and briefly visited the Pennsylvania coal mining district, supposedly looking for the suspected informer among them.

The Mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring-cleaning his little home. First with brooms, then with dusters; then on ladders and steps and chairs, with a brush and a pail of whitewash; till he had dust in his throat and eyes, and splashes of whitewash all over his black fur, and an aching back and weary arms. Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth below and around him, penetrating even his dark and lowly little house with its spirit of divine discontent and longing. It was small wonder, then, that he suddenly flung down his brush on the floor, said 'Bother!' and 'O blow!' and also 'Hang spring-cleaning!' and bolted out of the house without even waiting to put on his coat. Something up above was calling him imperiously, and he made for the steep little tunnel which answered in his case to the gavelled carriage-drive owned by animals whose residences are nearer to the sun and air. So he scraped and scratched and scrabbled and scrooged and then he scrooged again and scrabbled and scratched and scraped, working busily with his little paws and muttering to himself, 'Up we go! Up we go!' till at last, pop! his snout came out into the sunlight, and he found himself rolling in the warm grass of a great meadow. 'This is fine!' he said to himself. 'This is better than whitewashing!' The sunshine struck hot on his fur, soft breezes caressed his heated brow, and after the seclusion of the cellarage he had lived in so long the carol of happy birds fell on his dulled hearing almost like a shout. Jumping off all his four legs at once, in the joy of living and the delight of spring without its cleaning, he pursued his way across the meadow till he reached the hedge on the further side. 'Hold up!' said an elderly rabbit at the gap. 'Sixpence for the privilege of passing by the private road!' He was bowled over in an instant by the impatient and contemptuous Mole, who trotted along the side of the hedge chaffing the other rabbits as they peeped hurriedly from their holes to see what the row was about. 'Onion-sauce! Onion-sauce!' he remarked jeeringly, and was gone before they could think of a thoroughly satisfactory reply. Then they all started grumbling at each other. 'How STUPID you are! Why didn't you tell him——' 'Well, why didn't YOU say——' 'You might have reminded him——' and so on, in the usual way; but, of course, it was then much too late, as is always the case. It all seemed too good to be true. Hither and thither through the meadows he rambled busily, along the hedgerows, across the copses, finding everywhere birds building, flowers budding, leaves thrusting—everything happy, and progressive, and occupied. And instead of having an uneasy conscience pricking him and whispering 'whitewash!' he somehow could only feel how jolly it was to be the only idle dog among all these busy citizens. After all, the best part of a holiday is perhaps not so much to be resting yourself, as to see all the other fellows busy working.

Strumming a harp while floating on a white cloud might be Paradise for some people, but it would bore others stiff. Given an unlimited chance to choose your ideal world, what would you specify—palaces or log cabins? I'll take beer, son, and thanks again for the offer. As you can see, I'm kinda down on my luck. I know what you're thinking, but I'm not really on the bum. I usually make out all right—nothing fancy, mind you, but it's a living. Odd jobs in the winter and spring, follow the harvests in the summer and fall. Things are slack right now.You? Electronics, huh? Used to know a fellow in electronics.... His name was Joe Shannon, used to work for Stellar Electric up in Fremont. Young fellow, not more'n twenty-five or so. Rail thin, wispy hair, serious look—you know, the one suit, absent-minded type. Joe was a brain. A triple-A, gold-plated, genuine genius. Had a wife named Marge. Not beautiful but pretty and a nice figure and a cook you never saw the likes of. Like I say, she was married to Joe but Joe was married to his work and after you'd been around a while, you could tell there was friction. But that ain't the beginning.

A Viszkis rabló visszatért. A legenda tovább él - igaz, már csak a képzeletben. Ambrus Attila els? regénye alighanem zavarba ejti az olvasót. Valóság és fantázia keveredik benne megannyi izgalommal, akcióval, váratlan fordulattal. A nyers, szókimondó stílusban megírt cselekményben megelevenednek bankrablások, a császári élethez tartozó hódítások, a szegény, kilátástalan gyerekkor emlékei, no meg a b?rt?nben átélt, kit?r?lhetetlen napok. A f?h?s valóságos haramiává válik, mert újra rabol, s?t gyilkol is, mik?zben szerelemre és talán normális életre vágyik. A Viszkis rabló visszatér, de most nem elégszik meg a kisebb zsákmánnyal. A Magyar Nemzeti Bank páncélautóját veszi célba: megtervezi, el?készíti és csatlósaival bele is vág az évtized balhéjába. Ambrus Attiláért egykor a fél ország rajongott, s mindenki azért szurkolt, hogy ne kerülj?n rend?rkézre. Az általa kreált f?szerepl? talán kevésbé lesz szimpatikus, mint a Viszkis a valóságban, de hatással lesz ránk, az egészen bizonyos. Szeretjük és utáljuk egyszerre. Ha elkezdjük olvasni a t?rténetét, már nem szabadulunk t?le. A K?nyvjelz? magazin 2015. decemberi számában megjelent cikk: Ha nem kerül?k b?rt?nbe, már nem élnék

Várostrom, varázslat, lovagi torna. Mindez Balatónia szomszédságában, a fajszok f?ldjén, ahol az udvaronccá cseperedett Rév Fül?p újra fontos szerepet kap, és azt is megtudja, mi a teend?, ha j?nnek a siófok. De hova lehetett Fajszf?ld uralkodója, Hatodik (Torkos) Hollád király, aki sz?rén-szálán elt?nt?

"Amerika z?r?s hely volt a hatvanas-hetvenes években: diáklázadások, hippik és polgárjogi mozgalmak, na meg persze szex, drog és rock&roll minden mennyiségben. Skip Gibbs és barátn?je, Robin Abbott kezdett?l fogva benne volt a legkeményebb balhékban, csak épp nem virággal harcoltak a rendszer ellen, hanem dinamittal. Nem csoda, hogy az FBI jó pár évre kivonta ?ket a forgalomból...Robin - akinek volt ideje t?prengeni a sitten - kiszabadulva végül arra a k?vetkeztetésre jut: nincs értelme a kapitalizmus ellen harcolni, elég megsarcolni azokat, akiknek amúgy is túl sok pénzük van. Választása a dúsgazdag Ricks testvérekre esik, els?sorban azért, mert úgy sejti, Woody és az ?ccse, Mark nyomták fel ?ket annak idején a sz?vetségieknél. Robin ?rd?gi tervet eszel ki, hogy elégtételt vegyen a b?rt?nben elvesztegetett évekért. Ha kell, akár dinamittal is.A páros csak egy valakivel nem számol: a volt bombaszakért? Chris Mankowskival, aki épp Woody Ricks után nyomoz a szexi Greta Wyatt meger?szakolása ügyében. Az id?zít? ketyeg, a kérdés már csak az, mikor robban a bomba!"

Florin Logreteanu propune noul su roman intitulat Casa cu iedera. Aciunea lui se desfoar pe fundalul evenimentelor care au premers conflictului balcanic dintre srbi i albanezi din ultimul deceniu al mileniului trecut. L-am citit n manuscris i sunt n msur s spun c e vorba de un excelent romn al psihozei colective, care lumineaz subsolurile contiinei umane.“ – Eugen Negrici