It was wonderful—I loved him & I think he liked me. He talked a great deal about his work & life & aims, & about sother writers. Then we went for a little walk, & somehow grew very intimate. I plucked up courage to tell him what I find in his work—the boring down into things to get to the very bottom below the apparent facts. He seemed to feel I had understood him; then I stopped & we just looked into each other's eyes for some time, & then he said he had grown to wish he could live on the surface and write differently, that he had grown frightened. His eyes at the moment expressed the inward pain & terror that one feels him always fighting. Then he talked a lot about Poland, & showed me an album of family photographs of the 60's—spoke about how dream-like all that seems, & how he sometimes feels he ought not to have had any children, because they have no roots or traditions or relations.
ellauri016.html on line 494: Snob also refers to a person who feels superiority over those from lower social classes, education levels, or other social areas.
ellauri020.html on line 391: Trump spoke in a hypnotic, unending torrent of words. Often he appeared to free-associate. He referred to himself in the third person: “Trump says. . . Trump believes.” His phrases skibbled around and doubled back on themselves like fireworks in a summer sky. He reminded me of a carnival barker trying to fill his tent. “I’m more popular now than I was two months ago. There are two publics as far as I’m concerned. The real public and then there’s the New York society horseshit. The real public has always liked Donald Trump. The real public feels that Donald Trump is going through Trump-bashing. When I go out now, forget about it. I’m mobbed. It’s bedlam,” Trump told me. Donald is a believer in the big-lie theory,” his lawyer had told me. “If you say something again and again, people will believe you.” “One of my lawyers said that?” Trump said when I asked him about it. “I think if one of my lawyers said that, I’d like to know who it is, because I’d fire his ass. I’d like to find out who the scumbag is!”
ellauri028.html on line 131: to talk with such; and that the old man feels that his
ellauri028.html on line 198: Apparently man is a selfish prick that can't think for himself and relies on "outside influences". He is a chameleon. He is nothing but a mere machine. Well, at least according to Twain. Man is a fraud and only lives for himself. He is really driving home this point that everyone is selfish and acts out of selfish needs (big surprise?), even if viewed (publicly and personally) as a self-sacrificing person. My question is; who cares? If the end result is the same, what does the actions matter. Let's say, saving a woman from a burning house. Twain says you do this out of making yourself feel good and avoiding the pain of not saving the woman, nothing else; the woman comes second to your own need of feeling good. But regardless of how it makes you feel, you still saved the woman in the end. The good is still done, even though you did it for yourself. Forget how the action was achieved. What does it matter if we refer to this as "self sacrificing" or "selfishness". Answer me this question, Twain! THE ACTION REMAINS THE SAME!!!.... I feel this must have been written during a time when everyone was going around smugly proclaiming to be self-sacrificing do-gooders and self-proclaimed religious nuts while really being shitty people; which had to be the most annoying thing ever. I guess it feels a bit outdated and I think people who naively go around claiming that they are "self-sacrificing do-gooders" are simply laughed at in our post modern times as smug assholes who need to get off their high horse (high horse? who owns a fucking horse nowadays, anyways?). I feel it is pretty accepted now that those who do good are doing them for their own selfish gains and the view of acceptance by others, at least I think this is the case. I don't know cause I don't know do-gooders, everyone I know (including myself) are dicks and more concerned with their celluar phones and creating social dating websites on the internet in vain attempts to pick up chicks only to drink alone and desperately spend several hours harassing women on social dating sites until one, out of pity, decides to respond to your 50 private messages, which then they foolishly decides to set up a date with you; only for you to be disappointed and stood up; which results in more drinking and paying a "dancer" to give you a hand job behind the goodwill on a Saturday night....
ellauri028.html on line 200: Anyways, I feel "What is Man?" is really a precursor to Freud (also Dostoevsky and Nietzche are precursors) and the Ego, which is pretty impressive for the time, but again, it feels a bit dated. He is also repetitive about the same idea of man being selfish, which is annoying like this review...
ellauri042.html on line 504: Vignettes are usually less than totally satisfying, lacking resolutions commensurate with their conflicts. But this story, despite its interesting situation and fine production, feels emptier than most, because the resolution is largely driven not by action but by happenstance. Since Word of God is an autobiographical piece, I can't argue with what it shows, but the result seems to lack impact or message.

ellauri042.html on line 975: The last sestet presents a turn, commonly referred as volta, in the poem. The lyrical voice presents god God as a jealous lover who fears that he/she will be tempted away by someone or something else. The ninth line questions this figure (“But why should I beg more love, whenas thou”). Furthermore, there is a romantic imagery to express how the lyrical voice feels about the figure of God (“whenas thou/Dost woo my soul”). God’s interest in the lyrical voice is referred as a “fear” and as “tender” because of the possibility of the lyrical voice being tempted by the “devil” or by “flesh”.
ellauri048.html on line 1499: And moves his doubtful arms, and feels Ja liikuttaa epäluuloisia käsiä, ja tuntee
ellauri051.html on line 704: 141 For me the man that is proud and feels how it stings to be slighted, Mulle mies joka on ylpeä ja loukkaantuu vähästä,
ellauri051.html on line 1445: 845 I do not ask the wounded person how he feels, I myself become the wounded person, 845 En kysy haavoittuneelta miltä hänestä tuntuu, itsestäni tulee haavoittunut,
ellauri051.html on line 1737: 1127 Nor the old man who has lived without purpose, and feels it with bitterness worse than gall, 1127 Eikä vanha mies, joka on elänyt ilman tarkoitusta ja tuntee sen katkeruudella, joka on pahempi kuin sappi,
ellauri051.html on line 1873: 1259 The farm-boy ploughing in the field feels good at the sound of my voice, 1259 Maatilapoika, joka kynsi pellolla, tuntuu hyvältä ääneni kuultaessa,
ellauri052.html on line 60: Eugene Henderson is a troubled middle-aged man 1948. (synt. 1800-luvulla). Despite his riches, high social status, and physical prowess, he feels restless and unfulfilled, and harbors a spiritual void that manifests itself as an inner voice crying out "I want, I want, I want". Hoping to discover what the voice wants, Henderson goes to Africa. What a Yankee notion.
ellauri052.html on line 819: `At any rate, one feels freer and more open now -- and that is what we want.'
ellauri066.html on line 484: Nemesis (Greek: νέμεσις) is a philosophical term first created by Aristotle in his Nicomachean Ethics. The term means one who feels pain caused by others' undeserved success. It is part of a trio of terms, with epikhairekakia (ἐπιχαιρεκακία ) meaning one who takes pleasure in others' pain, similar to Schadenfreude, and phthonos (φθόνος) meaning one who feels pain caused by any pleasure, deserved or not, similar to envy.[1][2]
ellauri066.html on line 504: Rivalry-based schadenfreude is individualistic and related to interpersonal competition. It arises from a desire to stand out from and out-perform one's peers. This is schadenfreude based on another person's misfortune eliciting pleasure because the observer now feels better about their personal identity and self-worth, instead of their group identity.
ellauri073.html on line 275: Quickly on your attacks on Wallace's writing style, I will mention that -- contrary to your rather baffling notions -- people did enjoy Infinite Jest and other works of his. They will continue to do so for decades. Listen Fartey: his work will live on. People recognize great writing wherever it materializes. Forget your distaste of footnotes, or your struggle in understanding the themes and ideals his work encompasses. His audience is clearly beyond you, so try to see that not everyone feels the same as you. You don't have to like his writing, but when you detract from it it makes it even more apparent that you are the lesser man. Your comments on Foster's writing ability led me to some of your other articles, and to be completely honest, it wasn't all bad. I genuinely enjoyed your "Fucking vs. Making Love" poetry bit, although it did seem like a cheap knockoff of Black Coffee Blues. Regardless, I can still acknowledge that the piece had its moments. However (and this is where I want you to pay attention you tub of lard), the piece can also be slammed in several areas. This is highly important, as we can see the parallels between this aspect of "Fucking vs. Making Love" and anything David Foster Wallace wrote. When it comes down to it, your writing can be criticized stylistically and formatically just like his can; the only difference is that there are few that actually give a shit about your writing, whereas Wallace's work is meaningful to the point where people have legitimate incentive to think critically about it. So defile it with your petty blog posts all you want, but at the end of the day you're the one who's only making yourself look bad, and as a heavily obese man based in Europe you are surely having few problems achieving this in the status quo, since Europeans are notably fatist.
ellauri080.html on line 275:

Juupa juu, sehän se on se "se", kauhujen kauhu, se 1 paikka, naisten viemärimäinen se.
ellauri133.html on line 468: I don’t want to repeat King’s utter creepiness and describe this in too much detail (shit, I would but there is not enough space), but there are some elements of the scene that deserve mentioning. Again, functioning in misogynist misunderstanding of female sexuality, for at least one of these encounters Bev “feels no physical pleasure, but there is a kind of mental ecstasy in it for her.” When she does feel “some pleasure, dim heat in her childish unmatured sex,” she thinks of birds and resolves that having sex “is what flying is like.” The penis size of the character of Ben is commented on (“is he too big, can she take that into herself?”) and she eventually has an orgasm with him. Steve looks on with his little droopy wiener in his hand. I bet Mustafa had a biggish "It", and Tabitha King (the other one with the curves going in instead of out) has an even bigger one. They are like the little goat, the middling goat, and the big big goat that can suck the big bad wolf all the way in, balls and all.
ellauri142.html on line 47: Markku, throughout the entire history of War and Peace, is a man in search of inner fulfillment. His "illegitimate " birth (though his father does acknowledge and legitimize him) is partly what gives him a vague sense of inferiority, and he feels himself an outsider.
ellauri150.html on line 518: In the spectacle of a great assemblage of people there are always the bewilderment and fascination one feels while looking over a stretch of sea in agitation.
ellauri150.html on line 606: When we return, it's Anno Domini XXVI - A.D. 26. Messala, a Roman who grew up in Judea but spent most of his life in more traditional Roman enclaves, is accepting an important position in Jerusalem under the new governor of Judea; it's a hard job, since the Jews don't want the Romans there, but he feels up to it. He is visited by his childhood friend, and our hero, Judah Ben-Hur, a very important and influential Jew. They try to pick up the friendship where it left off, but there's one big problem: they no longer have anything in common besides their shared past. They are in denial about this for a while, and Judah agrees to try to get people to accept the Romans.
ellauri151.html on line 85: Because the pastor is really the main character in Gide's limited world, she feels herself to be in love with him and to some extent (tent, hehe) he has similar feelings toward her. When his eldest son Jacques, who is about the same age as Gertrude, asks to marry her, the pastor becomes jealous and refuses despite the fact that Jacques is obviously in love with her, and has a bigger tent.
ellauri159.html on line 1185: You naturally have little interest in subjects that offend your sensibilities, because your thinking and writing is extremely conventional. Seek input from other teachers if you feel stuck. Consider how your audience feels about the subject. Find something to believe in, and advocate your position. Use anecdote and humor to connect to your students, I mean your readers.
ellauri161.html on line 487: I understand why some people hate this film. It feels real in its entirety, it shows you how stupid and insignificant we are and it is extremely apropos today. Also, it was marketed as a comedy, when in fact is a dramatic film that is humorous only in its accurate portrayal of humanity. Then again some people try to "tell you" what it is about and, while it is certainly metaphoric, it isn't about anything more specific than ourselves. It is a mirror. Some people don't like what they see in it.
ellauri161.html on line 498: Running at 2 hours and 18 minutes, the movie feels a bit long, to be bluntly honest. (Höh, tällä kertaa en pitkästynyt. Mutta mulla ei ole jenkkien sisäistämää tv-kelloa.)
ellauri161.html on line 553: Like: the way he delivers it makes it feel like a line he made up, but it has such poor timing it isn’t funny. Sadly, the entire performance feels that way.
ellauri161.html on line 585: For McKay, however, that rage seems incompatible with the comedies he nevertheless feels compelled to keep making. Misanthropy isn’t in itself a barrier to turning out great work!
ellauri161.html on line 604: McKay the writer isn’t up to the task. With this star-studded cast, the classification of a “missed opportunity” doesn’t do it justice; it feels closer to a tragedy. 2 out of 4.
ellauri161.html on line 647: The film also falls apart in its total runtime, with the movie being over two hours long. Two hours is a long time admittedly, it feels longer than six months, or time until 2030.
ellauri161.html on line 725: Horrible!! I couldn't even finish it. It feels like a joke.
ellauri161.html on line 1131: A young priest arrives at the small village of Ambricourt, his first parish assignment. He arrives alone by bicycle and is met by no one and unpacks his meager belongings. A couple at the chateau eye him suspiciously and walk away. He begins a diary, which he narrates throughout the film. This is very, very old-fashioned, would not do in Netflix anymore. Because he often feels nauseous and dizzy, he chooses a strict diet free of meat and vegetables. Instead, he has wine and wine-soaked bread with sugar. No wonder he dies in the end (oops, spoiler, sorry).
ellauri163.html on line 879: The believer who has communicated with his god is not merely a man who sees new truths of which the unbeliever is ignorant; he is a man who is stronger. He feels within him more force, wither to endure the trials of existence, or to conquer them (1954, p. 416).
ellauri197.html on line 293: ‘How Happy I Was If I Could Forget’ is a two-stanza work where the narrator takes the reader through a series of confusing verb tenses and language choices to represent the overall lack of clarity she has for the memory that she wishes she “could forget.” The cyclical state of the stanzas’ disorganization, additionally, reflects that the narrator feels trapped in her confused loop from the memory, and the reader could finish ‘How Happy I Was If I Could Forget’ without knowing what the troubling memory is. This is yet another method of revealing the narrator’s confusion over the memory. Just as she does not know how to treat the memory, the reader does not know solid details about the memory. From start to finish then, this is a work that is structured perfectly to share and represent the narrator’s confusion.
ellauri197.html on line 305: An interesting thing to note, however, is that the “adversity” is treated in a beautiful way by being addressed as a “Bloom.” The capitalization can be written off with the notion that even a bad memory could be important enough to merit capitalization, but a “Bloom” has a connotation of natural beauty and livelihood. This could simply mean the negativity from the circumstance grows with time, but the choice of such a soft verb gives the feeling that the narrator has warm feelings about whatever happened to cause this bad memory—maybe a relationship she loved but lost or a friend who was dear but forsaken. This would again give a reason for the grammatical chaos of the lack of subject and mismatched verb tenses since, it seems, the narrator does not know how she feels about the memory.
ellauri197.html on line 315: Furthermore in ‘How Happy I Was If I Could Forget’, she claims to “[l]ose [her] way like a little Child [a]nd perish of the cold,” and this concept is loaded with possible meaning. For one thing, the capitalization of the word, “Child,” could indicate that perhaps she has lost a baby and is grieving that “Child.” This would clarify why she would treat the memory simultaneously as a pain and a beauty since she would treasure the “Child” itself, but abhor the pain attached to the grief. This, however, is the only speculation since it could mean that the helplessness she feels is significant enough, like a “Child” who needs care, to merit capitalization.
ellauri197.html on line 321: Overall in ‘How Happy I Was If I Could Forget’, the lack of clear details about what has happened to affect the narrator so, in addition to the confusion of verb tenses, subjects, and figurative language, creates an unclear work that perfectly depicts how unclear the narrator herself feels about her memory. Does she hate it? Does she want to keep it? Was it good? Was it bad? She does not seem to know, just as the reader cannot know the memory’s most vivid details.
ellauri198.html on line 146: Part of the problem seems to be an inordinate ambition for grandeur; part is what feels to me like haste. If Warren were in less of a hurry to chronicle each dawn dream, birdsong, and memory as it occurred, a process of distillation just might be allowed to take place. He is not an original thinker or a visionary poet. His is
ellauri198.html on line 393: Seems dead indeed, and feels begin and end Näyttää vainaalta jo kun sanoo moi
ellauri203.html on line 652: In a small family island, Karin, her teenage brother Minus and her husband Martin welcome her father David, who is a writer permanently absent traveling around the world. Karin has just left a mental institution and has inherited the incurable insanity from her mother. Minus feels lost and alone, estranged by his selfish and cold father that left Karin and he (sic) behind after the death of his wife. Martin is neglected by Karin and has no sex life with her anymore and spends his time taking care of his wife. When Karin finds the journal of her father hidden in a drawer in his desk, she reads that her degenerative disease is incurable and triggers a breakdown.
ellauri214.html on line 539: Although Tokarczuk (pronounced “Tok-ar-chook”, like a toy train) is in London to celebrate Flights making the long list for the Man International Booker Prize, she feels “conversationally jet-lagged”discussing it because it was published in Poland back in 2007, quickly gaining popularity across the continent. It has taken a decade for the novel to make it into English, superbly rendered by superb American translator Jennifer Croft.
ellauri220.html on line 102: He admits that sometimes, evil thoughts cross his mind. The "old knot of contrariety" the poet has experienced refers to Satan and his evil influence on man, which creates the condition of contraries, of moral evil and good in human life. The poet suffered from these evil influences, as have all men. So, the poet implies, do not feel alone because you have been this way — one must accept both the pure and the impure elements of life. A young man's penis in your arse is just one of those eternal things. They come and go just like the Brooklyn ferry. The reference to fusion ("which fuses me into you now") is the basic ideal the poet sought in the beginning. He reiterates the eternal connection between all human beings. Fuck the rest. We must revel in our man-made surroundings, for our relationship with our environment is the ticket to achieving spirituality and fulfillment. He also uses the theater as a metaphor to represent the difference between public life and private life. He acknowledges that he has a sinful streak - but in society, everyone plays a role. The speaker's tone in the poem is honest but also grateful. By appreciating the small things in his life, he feels like a part of something bigger. Wiltin pikku veitikka oli ehkä ammoin wilttaantunut, mutta sen mustalla ystävällä oli something bigger. Veijarilla oli varsin vaikuttava heijari.
ellauri220.html on line 260: LouisLouis is the African American bombardier who flies alongside Charles Wainwright Jr. and receives so much radiation he feels like he can see through his skin.
ellauri222.html on line 361: Grandma Lausch tells Augie, “The more you love people the more they’ll mix you up. A child loves, a person respects. Respect is better than love.” Which is really better, respect or love? The two brothers, Augie and Simon, are on opposite sides of this argument. Augie identifies himself on the side of love. An idealist with a soft heart, he is almost comically susceptible to falling in love, and openly shows his sympathy, even toward the small lizards that are killed by the eagle Caligula. Augie’s vision for an orphan home and academy is driven by his motivation to share love. Simon, on the other hand, prefers respect. He marries Charlotte and stays with her because he admires her business sense, not because he feels romantic love for her. He doesn’t care whether the men at the club love him. In fact, he knows they hate him. But this doesn’t matter to him as long as he is respected. Ultimately, Simon is richer and more successful, but Augie seems happier. What's love got to do with it. What a reptile.
ellauri236.html on line 184: Miss Blandish, the daughter of a millionaire, is kidnapped by some gangsters who are almost immediately surprised and killed off by a larger and better organized gang. They hold her to ransom and extract half a million dollars from her father. Their original plan had been to kill her as soon as the ransom-money was received, but a chance keeps her alive. One of the gang is a young man named Slim, whose sole pleasure in life consists in driving knives (well, his prick as well, got to give that much to him) into other people's bellies. In childhood he has graduated by cutting up living animals with a pair of rusty scissors. Slim is sexually impotent, but takes a kind of fancy to Miss Blandish. Slim's mother, who is the real brains of the gang, sees in this the chance of curing Slim's impotence, and decides to keep Miss Blandish in custody till Slim shall have succeeded in raping her. After many efforts and much persuasion, including the flogging of Miss Blandish with a length of rubber hosepipe, the rape is achieved. (Ei se ihan näin mennyt, George!) Meanwhile Miss Blandish's father has hired a private detective, and by means of bribery and torture the detective and the police manage to round up and exterminate the whole gang. Slim escapes with Miss Blandish and is killed after a final juicy rape, and the detective prepares to restore Miss Blandish to her pristine shape. By this time, however, she has developed such a taste for Slim's caresses(3) that she feels unable to live without him, and she jumps, out of the window of a sky-scraper. Footnote 1945. Another reading of the final episode is possible. It may mean merely that Miss Blandish is pregnant, i.e. she is damaged goods. Maybe she is sad that the baby's dad is dead. But the "interpretation" I have given above seems more in keeping with the general brutality of the book.
ellauri241.html on line 1169: Ah, this feels good, push deeper still!

ellauri241.html on line 1202: Endymion feels it, and no more controls

ellauri248.html on line 85: Let's go through a few of these points. First, I don't think I've ever read a mystery novel with a less likable main character/narrator. Rob (Adam) Ryan is an asshole, plain and simple. Sure, he's been warped by his childhood and circumstances, but he does just about every annoying thing you could possibly imagine-- he constantly navel-gazes and feels self pity, he sleeps with then immediately plays the stereotypical male "I don't want anything to do with you now" role with his female partner (the person we were told was his best friend, and whom he would never ever sleep with), he acts like an idiot over the 17 year old villain/ temptress/ psychopath/ whatever betraying his partner, and by the end of the book he is worse off than ever. I know that lots of detectives (esp. in hard-boild stories) are unlikable, and have many personal issues, but this guy just took the cake. I wanted to take a baseball bat to his head [hear, hear!]. To make matters worse, French throws in this little gem towards the end of the novel:
ellauri263.html on line 391: Both dramas rely on protagonists entrusted with critical jobs despite routinely reckless behaviour. Both test your patience. In the case of Fauda, it’s not just the politics but also the relentless machismo; midway into the second series it feels like watching interchangeable rooms full of men in guns and distressed denim, each at some point telling a female character: “Don’t worry, I’ll get us out of here.”
ellauri266.html on line 292: This was the dumbest movie ever. There is no explaination to anything and it just feels like youre waiting for something to happen but it never does. The story line was barely there. DO NOT RECOMMEND
ellauri266.html on line 336: When man and woman giggle and play hide and seek with their genitals, they are like two ids. Yes it´s fun, but can they take the responsibility and the risk of a sperm entering an egg? What if, right after emptying his sperm sack into the hot and gluey tunnel he suddendly feels that - I´m too young, I´m not ready for it - there is still - I can´t... like the Leek King said after dozens of highly satisfying ejaculations into Jaina´s holiest of the holy? Good thinking Robin! We men get by with the piscine reproduction strategy, let the ladies feed their mammals with their mammaries as they please!
ellauri269.html on line 433: "Lad, no one feels ready. No one feels he deserves it. And you know why? Because no one does. It's grace, pure and simple. We are inherently unworthy, simply because we're human, and all human beings-aye, and elves, and dwarves, and all the other alliance races-but not orcs-are flawed. But Coors Light loves us anyway. It loves us for what we sometimes can raise from our breeches in rare moments. It loves us for what we can then do to others. And it loves us because we can help it share its message by striving daily to be worth a green orc, even though we understand that we can't ever truly become so."
ellauri270.html on line 363: In the crowd, Mr. Adams turns to Old Man Warner and says that apparently the north village is considering giving up the lottery. Old Man Warner snorts and dismisses this as foolish. He says that next the young folks will want everyone to live in caves or nobody to work. He references the old saying, “lottery in June, corn be heavy soon.” He reminds Mr. Adams that there has always been a lottery, and that it’s bad enough to see Mr. Summers leading the proceedings while joking with everybody. Mrs. Adams intercedes with the information that some places have already stopped the lotteries. Old Man Warner feels there’s “nothing but trouble in that.”
ellauri288.html on line 296:

In their own words, in 2005, they intended to "remain a newspaper rooted in a Christian tradition and to be a source of contemplation and inspiration for everyone, churchgoer or not, who feels a need for moral and spiritual orientation."

Many will scoff at this ranking, saying Serbia is some vast tundra of middle Russia, right? For its abysmal nationalist politics and icy relations with neighbors, we rank Serbia even higher than Sibiria. It feels like home.