ellauri062.html on line 98: Sam, who has always adored his wife and been faithful to her, now makes sexual advances to the nurse aides who care for him.
ellauri099.html on line 63: It is quite true I have worshipped you with far more romance of feeling than a man should ever give to a friend. Somehow I have never loved a woman…. From the moment I met you, your personality had the most extraordinary influence over me…. I adored you madly, extravagantly, absurdly. I was jealous of everyone to whom you spoke. I wanted to have you all to myself. I was only happy when I was with you.
ellauri115.html on line 402: Hume penned an unreserved panegyric to a clerical friend in Scotland comparing Rousseau to Socrates and, like a starry-eyed lover, seeing beauty in his adored one's blemishes: "I find him mild, and gentle and modest and good humoured ... M. Rousseau is of small stature; and would rather be ugly, had he not the finest physiognomy in the world, I mean, the most expressive countenance. His modesty seems not to be good manners but ignorance of his own excellence."
ellauri197.html on line 464: But while I wondered and adored Mut vaikka mä ihastelin
ellauri241.html on line 94: Pearls, while on land they withered and adored. helmiä, kun taas maalla he kuihtuivat ja ihailivat.
ellauri256.html on line 380: Contemporaries' attitude to Lilya was mixed. Men adored her: the list of Brik's admirers included practically the entire circle of Russian avant-garde artists and prominent culture figures, from Alexander Rodchenko to Sergey Diaghilev. In Italy, she was friends with Pasolini, in France, with Louis Aragon (who would eventually marry her sister Elsa) and Yves Saint Laurent, who used to say: “I know three women who can be elegant outside of fashion - Catherine Deneuve, Marlene Dietrich and Lilya Brik.”
ellauri323.html on line 133: Yet Zuleika WAS very innocent, really. She was as pure as that young shepherdess Marcella, who, all unguarded, roved the mountains and was by all the shepherds adored. Like Marcella, she had given her heart to no man, had preferred none. Youths were reputed to have died for love of her, as Chrysostom died for love of the shepherdess; and she, like the shepherdess, had shed no tear. When Chrysostom was lying on his bier in the valley, and Marcella looked down from the high rock, Ambrosio, the dead man’s comrade, cried out on her, upbraiding her with bitter words—“Oh basilisk of our mountains!” Nor do I think Ambrosio spoke too strongly. Er. epm. homopetteri Horace Walpole (josta on paasattu albumeissa 14, 52, 75, 115, 235 ja 247) nimitteli Woolworthin Marya “a hyena in petticoats” or “a philosophising serpent” .
xxx/ellauri122.html on line 1092: Capote was born Truman Streckfus Persons in New Orleans, Louisiana, on September 30, 1924. His father, Arch Persons, was a well-educated ne'er-do-well from a prominent Alabama family, and his mother, Lillie Mae Faulk, was a pretty and ambitious young woman so anxious to escape the confines of small-town Alabama that she married Arch in her late teens. Capote's early childhood with Arch and Lillie Mae was marked by neglect and painful insecurity that left him with a lifelong fear of abandonment. His life gained some stability in 1930 when, at age six, he was put in the care of four elderly, unmarried cousins in Monroeville, Monroe County. He lived there full-time for three years and made extended visits throughout the decade. Capote was most influenced by his cousin Sook, who adored him and whom he celebrated in his writings. He also forged what would become a lifelong friendship with next-door neighbor Nelle Harper Lee, who later won the Pulitzer Prize for her book, To Kill a Mockingbird. Capote appears in the novel as the character Dill.
xxx/ellauri125.html on line 428: From the start, critics complained about the ostensible sameness of Roth’s books, their narcissism and narrowness—or, as he himself put it, comparing his own work to his father’s conversation, “Family, family, family, Newark, Newark, Newark, Jew, Jew, Jew.” Over time, he took on vast themes—love, lust, loneliness, marriage, masculinity, ambition, community, solitude, loyalty, betrayal, patriotism, rebellion, piety, disgrace, the body, the imagination, American history, mortality, the relentless mistakes of life—and he did so in a variety of forms: comedy, parody, romance, conventional narrative, postmodernism, autofiction. In each performance of a self, Roth captured the same sound and consciousness. in nearly fifty years of reading him I’ve never been more bored. I got to know Roth in the nineteen-nineties, when I interviewed him for this magazine around the time he published “The Human Stain.” To be in his presence was an exhilarating, though hardly relaxing, experience. He was unnervingly present, a condor on a branch, unblinking, alive to everything: the best detail in your story, the slackest points in your argument. His intelligence was immense, his performances and imitations mildly funny. “He who is loved by his parents is a conquistador,” Roth used to say, and he was adored by his parents, though both could be daunting to the young Philip. Herman Roth sold insurance; Bess ruled the family’s modest house, on Summit Avenue, in a neighborhood of European Jewish immigrants, their children and grandchildren. There was little money, very few books. Roth was not an academic prodigy; his teachers sensed his street intelligence but they were not overawed by his classroom performance. Roth learned to write through imitation. His first published story, “The Day It Snowed,” was so thoroughly Truman Capote that, he later remarked, he made “Capote look like a longshoreman.”
xxx/ellauri137.html on line 384: The balcony! How I adored you, body and soul!
xxx/ellauri137.html on line 428: When, queen of the adored, towards you leaning,
xxx/ellauri137.html on line 469: In bending over you, queen of adored women,
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