Он обошел на яхте ?Спрей? вокруг земного шара, оставаясь один на один с морской стихией. On oboshel na jahte ?Sprej? vokrug zemnogo shara, ostavajas' odin na odin s morskoj stihiej.

Жан Одинак – власник книжково? барж? ?Л?тературна аптека? – точно зна?, як вил?кувати почуття, що не вважаються захворюваннями й не д?агностуються л?карями. Адже в?н – читач душ, тож кожному покупцев? добира? книги, як? якнайкраще впораються ?з завданням вил?кувати людський смуток, тугу чи знев?ру. ?диний, кого Жан не може зц?лити, ? це в?н сам. Душевн? терзання в?д спогад?в про Манон, котра покинула месь? Одинака двадцять один р?к тому, розбили йому серце ? дос? тривожать душевн? рани. Усе, що вона залишила, ? лист, який Жан н?як не наважу?ться прочитати. Усе зм?ню?ться одного л?тнього дня п?сля зустр?ч? з Катр?н, глибоку печаль яко? месь? Одинак спод?ва?ться вил?кувати. Саме цей момент став переломним у житт? Жана. В?н вируша? в подорож до м?сця найболюч?ших спогад?в – серця Провансу, аби пережити час страждань ? в?днайти себе.

Дарону Аджемо?лу ? Джеймсу Роб?нсону вдалося, здавалося б, неможливе — в?дпов?сти на питання, яке до них безрезультатно вивчали стол?ттями: чому одн? кра?ни багат?, а ?нш? — б?дн?????рунтуючись на п’ятнадцятир?чних досл?дженнях у галузях ?стор??, пол?толог?? та економ?ки, автори легко ? доступно пояснюють, чому економ?чний усп?х держав не залежить в?д культури, кл?мату чи географ?чного положення.??Аджемо?лу та Роб?нсон переконан?: кра?ни стали найусп?шн?шими через те, що ?хн? громадяни повалили владну ел?ту ? створили сусп?льства, де головною ц?нн?стю стали р?вн? економ?чн? та пол?тичн? права кожного. На ?хню думку, саме свобода робить св?т багатшим.??Книга ?Чому нац?? занепадають? — сво?р?дний пос?бник, який допоможе краще зрозум?ти причини, що сприяють процв?танню держав та ?хньому занепаду.

Що робити, якщо ви почули в дом? кроки граб?жника? Як зрозум?ти, що вашу машину намагаються вкрасти? Як зв?льнитися, якщо ви раптом прокинулися, обмотан? клейкою стр?чкою? ?Шпигунськ? та?мниц?? — практичн? поради колишнього спецагента, як д?яти у небезпечних ситуац?ях. Кумедн? (? не дуже) приклади з реального життя ? розважать, ? покажуть, як не втрапити в халепу.

Н?л Фер?юсон зауважу?: ?Ще на початку XV стол?ття сама лише думка про те, що наступн? п’ять стол?ть Зах?д буде дом?нувати над рештою св?ту, здалася б дуже дивною. А вт?м, це сталося?. ? нин? могутн?сть Заходу вража? нав?ть найбагатшу уяву... То чому ж так трапилося? Чому ?вропа, що на 1500-й р?к поступалася Сходу за багатьма показниками — економ?чними, технолог?чними, демограф?чними, — зум?ла р?зко рвонути уперед ? досягти безперечного св?тового панування? Як? складов? усп?ху зах?дно? цив?л?зац??? Саме ц? дражлив? питання украй см?ливо, часом нав?ть зухвало, а проте надзвичайно захопливо висв?тлю? Н?л Фер?юсон.

Коли старанно прихован? ? запорошен? скелети таки вибираються з? старих шаф на св?т божий, — чекай б?ди. Головна геро?ня, письменниця, неспод?вано отриму? запрошення на д?вич-веч?рку шк?льно? подруги, з якою не сп?лкувалася рок?в десять. Вих?дн? мають промайнути весело — скляний будинок у густих англ?йських л?сах, весела компан?я, гучн? посиденьки. Та щось п?шло не так... За дв? доби вона, зранена та скал?чена, приходить до тями в л?карнян?й палат? ? з жахом усв?домлю?, що н?чог?с?нько не пам’ята?... Хоча й в?дчува?: трапилося щось жахливе.

Що робити, якщо ваша дитина надто активна, емоц?йна, вразлива, чутлива... словом, надзвичайна???У ц?й книжц? талановитий педагог ? дбайлива мама Мер? Ш?д? Курс?нка д?литься з батьками ун?кальним досв?дом, ?нформац??ю ? стратег?ями виховання, набутими за багато рок?в роботи в дитячому центр?. Вона допоможе вам зрозум?ти причини дивно? повед?нки дитини, знайти ?? сильн? та слабк? сторони, гасити конфл?кти й емоц?йн? атаки, обрати школу, вир?шити проблеми ?з засинанням ? прокиданням тощо. Кредо авторки — ?Розвиток, а не досконал?сть!? — вже стало базовим принципом виховання у м?льйонах с?мей по всьому св?т?.??

Andersena pasakas: ?Lakstīgala”, ?Sliktais princis”, ?Rū?ītis”. Trīs brīni??īgas, visiem zināmas un lasītāju iecienītas pasakas vienā grāmati?ā. ?Lakstīgala” - tā ir skaista pasaka par necilu putni?u, kas dzīvoja kāda ?īnas ?eizara dārzā. Lakstīgalas burvīgās dziesmas spēja sagādāt ne tikai prieku, bet arī dziedināja slimo ?eizaru. ?? ?Sliktais princis” – ?ī pasaka vēstī par cietsirdīgu un ne?ēlīgu valdnieku, kur? nolēma gūt varu pār visu pasauli, pastāvīgi karojot. ?Rū?ītis” – tas ir stāsts par elfu, kur? pārticībā dzīvoja bagāta tirgotāja mājā un kuru sajūsmināja nabadzīga studenta, grāmatu un dzejas cienītāja, pasaule. ? Andersena pasakas ir burvju stāsti, kuros apslēptas svarīgas patiesības un morāles vērtības. Tās iepriecina mūsdienu bērnus tāpat kā pirms gadiem vi?u vecākus un vecvecākus.? Katra pasaka ir veidota ar skaistām un krāsainām ilustrācijām.

O que poderá talvez deixar mais intrigado o leitor que pela primeira vez se depare com o título Travessias pela Literatura Portuguesa: estudos críticos de Saramago a Vieira é a aparente anomalia na disposi??o dos nomes que aparecem em subtítulo: de Saramago a Vieira. N?o faria mais lógica de Vieira a Saramago? No entanto, quando percorremos o conjunto de oito artigos que comp?em este volume, compreendemos que eles n?o est?o dispostos por ordem cronológica.

A Tartuffe-ben, a képmutatók zsarnoki uralmának e pompás torzképében minden id?k egyik legnagyszer?bb komikus remekm?vét tiszteli az egész m?velt világ. A korabeli francia udvarban annyian gúnyolva érezték magukat, hogy betiltatták az uralkodóval a bemutatót.

The Scarlet Letter, published in 1850, is an American novel written by Nathaniel Hawthorne and is generally considered to be his magnum opus. Set in 17th-century Puritan Boston, it tells the story of Hester Prynne, who gives birth after committing adultery, refuses to name the father, and struggles to create a new life of repentance and dignity. Throughout the novel, Hawthorne explores questions of grace, legalism, sin and guilt.

The book tells the adventures of five American prisoners of war on an uncharted island in the South Pacific. Begining in the American Civil War, as famine and death ravage the city of Richmond, Virginia, five northern POWs decide to escape in a rather unusual way – by hijacking a balloon! This is only the beginning of their adventures...

THE MAN IN THE MOON.THE Man in the MoonCame tumbling down,And asked his way to Norwich;They told him south,And he burnt his mouthWith eating cold pease-porridge. TO MARKET, TO MARKET.TO market, to market, to buy a fat Pig;Home again, home again, dancing a jig. The Man In the Moon.To Market, to Market.There Was a Man.The Lion and the Unicorn.Little Miss Muffet.Oranges and Lemons.Goosey, Goosey Gander.Humpty Dumpty.Baa, Baa, Black Sheep.The Three Wise Men of Gotham. STORIES: - The Man In the Moon.- To Market, to Market.- There Was a Man.- The Lion and the Unicorn.- Little Miss Muffet.- Oranges and Lemons.- Goosey, Goosey Gander.- Humpty Dumpty.- Baa, Baa, Black Sheep.- The Three Wise Men of Gotham.

A Magánügyb?l megismert magánnyomozó, Dave Bexley ismét úgy érzi, minek elvállalni egy ügyet, ha kett?t is lehet - aztán j?n a t?bbi magától. El?sz?r egy bánatos víg ?zvegy orvul meggyilkolt férjének gyilkosát kell el?keríteni, majd egy bájakkal er?sen megáldott h?lgy zsarolóit megállítani. Tetejében még megtalálja a titkosszolgálat is, hogy elveszett biológiai fegyverek után kutasson. ?s, mivel a nap 24 órából áll, képbe kerül a korábban elt?ntnek hitt, titokzatos Leslie Morton is, és az általa hajszolt mágnesfegyver.Bár Dave néha úgy érzi, csupán gyalog a sakktáblán - de tudjuk jól, akár egy gyalog is képes játékokat eld?nteni.

Tényleg azt hitted, hogy kamasznak lenni k?nny?? Bár a tizen?t éves Pataki Emma élete igen távol áll a t?kéletest?l, hiszen anya nélkül kell feln?nie alkoholista apukája és nagymamája szigorú kontrollja alatt, ? mégis megpróbálja élni a tinik szokásos mindennapjait. Bulizik a barátaival, mindent megbeszél b?lcs barátn?jével és még szerelmes is az elb?v?l? mosolyú osztálytársába. Az eszes kaposvári lány ügyesen lavíroz az ellentmondást nem t?r? apa elvárásai és a barátok napról napra féktelenebbé váló kicsapongásai k?z?tt. Az élet azonban nem t?ri sokáig ezt a t?rékeny egyensúlyt, szemberohan Emmával, hogy minél hamarabb g?rdíthessen elé megoldhatatlannak t?n? nehézségeket. A méretes akadályok k?z?tt botladozó lány mindinkább kétségbeesik, és kérdéses, hogy sikerülhet-e átverekednie magát az ?t elgáncsolni látszó problémákon. Vajon meg tud birkózni Emma az emberfeletti er?t kívánó kihívásokkal? Képes helytállni és feln?ttként viselkedni olyan helyzetekben, amik még sok valódi feln?ttnek is feladnák a leckét? ?s vajon ráj?n, hogy milyen súlyos titkot rejteget el?le a családja? Gombos Tünde a Margó-díjra jel?lt Szerelemtánc után megint egy embert próbáló helyzetbe került fiatal t?rténetét meséli el a t?le már megszokott stílusban, hol humorosan, hol szívhez szólóan.

Bob Houston, the youngest agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, stepped out of the Department of Justice Building and turned toward home, his heart beating faster than it had in months. It hardly seemed real but he was now a full-fledged agent in the greatest man hunting division in the Federal Government. Bob paused a moment at the curb. Another man who had emerged from the justice building joined him. It was his uncle, Merritt Hughes, one of the most famous detectives in the department. He put his arm around Bob’s shoulders and shook him in a rough but friendly embrace.“Well, Bob, how does it feel to be a real federal agent?” he asked. It was a moment before Bob replied, and when he finally spoke the words came slowly.“I hardly know,” he confessed, “as yet it doesn’t seem real, but there is one thing I do know—I’m going to work night and day to make a success of this new job.” “Don’t worry about making a success,” advised his uncle. “You’ve got the stuff to make good or you wouldn’t have been taken into the department.”“When do you think I’ll get my first assignment on a new case?” asked Bob. “That’s hard to say,” replied the famous detective, “but if I were you I’d go home now and get a good night’s sleep. In this kind of a game you’d better sleep when you can.” “Then I’m headed for home now,” said Bob. “Good night, and thanks for all you’ve done for me.”With that the young federal agent strode off down the avenue, his lungs drinking in great gulps of the cool air of the fall night. Merritt Hughes stood on the curb of the justice building watching his nephew until Bob turned the corner a block away. Anyone noticing the federal agent would have seen a slight smile of pleasure on his lips and he might have guessed that Merritt Hughes was greatly pleased by the events which had happened in the preceding hours. As a matter of fact, Bob Houston, a plain clerk in the archives division of the War Department, temporarily a provisional federal agent, had been the key figure in preventing the theft of some of Uncle Sam’s most valuable radio secrets.

Kívánom, adjanak er?t ezek a k?ltemények sokaknak! Azokhoz szólok most, akiknek valamikor, valamije fájt már életében, és/vagy ismernek olyan embert, aki tudja, hogy a szó szoros értelmében mit jelent az a szó: jaj! Tetovált társaim! Ti egyt?l egyig tisztában vagytok ennek a fogalomnak a jelentésével, és azzal is, hogy ez a választott életérzés megéri, méghozzá busásan. Akiknek jelen pillanatban is fáj valami, azoknak pedig… Nekik drukkolok leginkább!

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, 'and what is the use of a book,' thought Alice 'without pictures or conversation?'So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her. There was nothing so VERY remarkable in that; nor did Alice think it so VERY much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself, 'Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be late!' (when she thought it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural); but when the Rabbit actually TOOK A WATCH OUT OF ITS WAISTCOAT-POCKET, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it, and fortunately was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge. In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again. The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down a very deep well. Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her and to wonder what was going to happen next. First, she tried to look down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything; then she looked at the sides of the well, and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves; here and there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs. She took down a jar from one of the shelves as she passed; it was labelled 'ORANGE MARMALADE', but to her great disappointment it was empty: she did not like to drop the jar for fear of killing somebody, so managed to put it into one of the cupboards as she fell past it. 'Well!' thought Alice to herself, 'after such a fall as this, I shall think nothing of tumbling down stairs! How brave they'll all think me at home! Why, I wouldn't say anything about it, even if I fell off the top of the house!' (Which was very likely true.) Down, down, down. Would the fall NEVER come to an end! 'I wonder how many miles I've fallen by this time?' she said aloud. 'I must be getting somewhere near the centre of the earth. Let me see: that would be four thousand miles down, I think—' (for, you see, Alice had learnt several things of this sort in her lessons in the schoolroom, and though this was not a VERY good opportunity for showing off her knowledge, as there was no one to listen to her, still it was good practice to say it over) '—yes, that's about the right distance—but then I wonder what Latitude or Longitude I've got to?' (Alice had no idea what Latitude was, or Longitude either, but thought they were nice grand words to say.) ? ? ABOUT AUTHOR: ??Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (1832 – 1898), better known by his pen name, as “Lewis Carroll”, was an English writer, mathematician, logician, Anglican deacon and photographer. His most famous writings are Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and its sequel Through the Looking-Glass, as well as the poems "The Hunting of the Snark" and "Jabberwocky", all examples of the genre of literary nonsense.

F?szerepl?nk Kópé, egy erdei manó, aki kirándulók fogságábae sik, majd az erd?b?l egy f?városi lakótelepre kerül. A manó megsz?kik a rabságból, és meghúzódik egy limlommal zsúfolter kélyen. Nem esik kétségbe, hanem kényelmes kuckót alakít ki a kacatok k?z?tt. Kópé az épület el?tt magasodó akácfán k?zlekedik az erkélyek k?z?tt. ?gy talál egy barátot, Dórit, aki egyedül él az anyukájával, és soha nem járt erd?ben. A manó mesélni kezd az otthonáról, az odvas t?lgyrol, a barátairól. A mesékhez Dóri rajzokat készít. A rideg lakótelepen nem ismerik egymást az emberek, és éppen Kópé kalandozása, kíváncsisága hozza ?ket ?szsze. Dóri megismerkedik Olga nénivel, akit?l kertész kedni tanul,virágokat nevel az erkélyen, másoktól cicát kap. A k?nyvben az izgalmas kalandokat, mint például amikor Kópét majdnem elüti egy autó, vagy amikor lepottyan egyik erkélyrol a másikra, mulatságos részek gazdagítják. Az erdei él?világ valóságh? bemutatása keveredik a fantáziavilágbeli lények, tündérek és manók jellemzésével. Megtudhatjuk például, milyen is egy manó esküv?! Ajánlott korosztály: 5 és 10 év k?z?tt.

When does life begin?... A well-known book says "forty". A well-known radio program says "eighty". Some folks say it's mental, others say it's physical. But take the strange case of Mel Carlson who gave a lot of thought to the matter. Mel felt as if he were floating on clouds in the deepest, most intense dark he had ever experienced. He tried opening his eyes but nothing happened, only a sharp pain. Little bits of memory flashed back and he tried to figure out what could have happened, where he was. The last thing he could remember was the little lab hidden back in the mountains in an old mine tunnel. Remote, but only an hour's drive from the city. What had he been doing? Oh yes, arguing with Neil again. He even recalled the exact words."Damn it, Mel," his partner had said. "We've gone about as far as possible working with animal brains. We've got to get a human one." "We can't," Mel had disagreed. "There'd be enough of an uproar if the papers got hold of what we've been doing with animals. If we did get someone in a hospital to agree to let us use his brain on death, they would close us up tighter than a drum.""But our lab's too well hidden, they'd never know." "It wouldn't work anyway. The brain might be damaged for lack of oxygen and all of our work would go for nothing. Worse, it might indicate failure where a fresh, healthy brain would mean success.""We'll never know unless we try," said Neil almost violently, dark eyes glittering. "Our funds aren't going to last forever."

To the irreverent—and which of us will claim entire exemption from that comfortable classification—there is something very amusing in the attitude of the orthodox criticism toward Bernard Shaw. He so obviously disregards all the canons and unities and other things which every well-bred dramatist is bound to respect that his work is really unworthy of serious criticism (orthodox). Indeed he knows no more about the dramatic art than, according to his own story in "The Man of Destiny," Napoleon at Tavazzano knew of the Art of War. But both men were successes each in his way—the latter won victories and the former gained audiences, in the very teeth of the accepted theories of war and the theatre. Shaw does not know that it is unpardonable sin to have his characters make long speeches at one another, apparently thinking that this embargo applies only to long speeches which consist mainly of bombast and rhetoric. There never was an author who showed less predilection for a specific medium by which to accomplish his results. He recognized, early in his days, many things awry in the world and he assumed the task of mundane reformation with a confident spirit. It seems such a small job at twenty to set the times aright. He began as an Essayist, but who reads essays now-a-days—he then turned novelist with no better success, for no one would read such preposterous stuff as he chose to emit. He only succeeded in proving that absolutely rational men and women—although he has created few of the latter—can be most extremely disagreeable to our conventional way of thinking. As a last resort, he turned to the stage, not that he cared for the dramatic art, for no man seems to care less about "Art for Art's sake," being in this a perfect foil to his brilliant compatriot and contemporary, Wilde. He cast his theories in dramatic forms merely because no other course except silence or physical revolt was open to him. For a long time it seemed as if this resource too was doomed to fail him. But finally he has attained a hearing and now attempts at suppression merely serve to advertise their victim. It will repay those who seek analogies in literature to compare Shaw with Cervantes. After a life of heroic endeavor, disappointment, slavery, and poverty, the author of "Don Quixote" gave the world a serious work which caused to be laughed off the world's stage forever the final vestiges of decadent chivalry. The institution had long been outgrown, but its vernacular continued to be the speech and to express the thought "of the world and among the vulgar," as the quaint, old novelist puts it, just as to-day the novel intended for the consumption of the unenlightened must deal with peers and millionaires and be dressed in stilted language. Marvellously he succeeded, but in a way he least intended. We have not yet, after so many years, determined whether it is a work to laugh or cry over. "It is our joyfullest modern book," says Carlyle, while Landor thinks that "readers who see nothing more than a burlesque in 'Don Quixote' have but shallow appreciation of the work." Shaw in like manner comes upon the scene when many of our social usages are outworn. He sees the fact, announces it, and we burst into guffaws. The continuous laughter which greets Shaw's plays arises from a real contrast in the point of view of the dramatist and his audiences. When Pinero or Jones describes a whimsical situation we never doubt for a moment that the author's point of view is our own and that the abnormal predicament of his characters appeals to him in the same light as to his audience. With Shaw this sense of community of feeling is wholly lacking. He describes things as he sees them, and the house is in a roar. Who is right If we were really using our own senses and not gazing through the glasses of convention and romance and make-believe, should we see things as Shaw does Must it not cause Shaw to doubt his own or the public's sanity to hear audiences laughing boisterously over tragic situations And yet, if they did not come to laugh, they would not come at all. Mockery is the price he must pay for a hearing. Or has he calculated to a nicety the power of reaction Does he seek to drive us to aspiration by the portrayal of sordidness, to disinterestedness by the picture of selfishness, to illusion by disillusionment It is impossible to believe that he is unconscious of the humor of his dramatic situations, yet he stoically gives no sign. He even dares the charge, terrible in proportion to its truth, which the most serious of us shrinks from—the lack of a sense of humor. Men would rather have their integrity impugned. In "Arms and the Man" the subject which occupies the dramatist's attention is that survival of barbarity—militarism—which raises its horrid head from time to time to cast a doubt on the reality of our civilization. No more hoary superstition survives than that the donning of a uniform changes the nature of the wearer. This