ellauri061.html on line 1648: Nor the all-dreaded thunder stone; älä ukkosesta ota skizoja;
ellauri109.html on line 511: Many literary figures have dreaded the spectre of the biographer. Charles Dickens, Wilkie Collins, Walt Whitman, Henry James, and Sylvia Plath are but a few who put their letters and journals into the fire. Lea poltti päiväkirjansa kommunistien pelossa ja repi lottapuvun matonkuteixi. James admitted to his nephew and literary executor that his singular desire in old age was to “frustrate as utterly as possible the postmortem exploiter.”
ellauri140.html on line 796: And threatned unto him the dreaded name Ja uhkasi sitä pelätyllä Justiinalla
ellauri140.html on line 985: Without regard of armes and dreaded fight: Viis veisaisi aseista ja nahisteluista.
ellauri143.html on line 657: These four a light of dreaded kings reveal.
ellauri143.html on line 748: From coming evil´s dreaded shock are free.
ellauri222.html on line 255: Bellow was born Solomon Bellow in Lachine, Quebec, in 1915, two years after his parents had arrived there from St Petersburg. When he was nine, the family moved to the Humboldt Park neighbourhood of Chicago. His mother, Liza, died when Saul was 17, but not before she had passed on to him her love of the Jewish Bible (he learned Hebrew at four). His first serious critical success was The Adventures of Augie March (1953), but it was not until his 1964 novel, Herzog, became a bestseller that he earned any real money. His elder brothers, both businessmen, were by this time making serious cash, and regarded him, he once said, as "some schmuck with a pen". Mary Cheever, the wife of John Cheever, believed the two got on so well because "they were both women-haters". He has nothing good to say about feminism. Bellow has a go at Hannah Arendt and Mary McCarthy (the one is "rash", the other "stupid"). In 1994, however, he ate a poisonous fish in the Caribbean, and fell into a coma that lasted five weeks. He dreaded a loss of virility.
ellauri222.html on line 363: At the end of the novel, Augie reflects on his vagabond existence and laughs aloud. “That’s the animal ridens in me,” he says, “forever rising up.” He dreaded a loss of virility.
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