ellauri107.html on line 439: “Now you look here! The first thing you got to understand is that all this uplift and flipflop and settlement-work and recreation is nothing in God's world but the entering wedge for socialism. The sooner a man learns he isn't going to be coddled, and he needn't expect a lot of free grub and, uh, all these free classes and flipflop and doodads for his kids unless he earns 'em, why, the sooner he'll get on the job and produce—produce—produce! That's what the country needs, and not all this fancy stuff that just enfeebles the will-power of the working man and gives his kids a lot of notions above their class. And you—if you'd tend to business instead of fooling and fussing—All the time! When I was a young man I made up my mind what I wanted to do, and stuck to it through thick and thin, and that's why I'm where I am to-day, and—Myra! What do you let the girl chop the toast up into these dinky little chunks for? Can't get your fist onto 'em. Half cold, anyway!”
ellauri112.html on line 941: “Sorry, I thought you were proposing a toast,” he said. "Izvinite, mislio sam da nazdravljate", kazao je on.
ellauri141.html on line 95: [Indicates a toast to Octavius and Agrippa]
ellauri141.html on line 97: Maecenas : A toast. Let us all drink to it: that we will let nothing never destroy this business!
ellauri150.html on line 486:
toast.gif?w=300" />
ellauri216.html on line 202:
ellauri226.html on line 425: and Derrick’s buildings also suffered from the same problem, and all three commented on how the landlords would not change wiring because they felt as though they would not recoup the cost. Residents could not even use toasters!
ellauri266.html on line 148: Surkeimmin epäonistui Reinin sotaretki. Ilmeni, ettei Ranskan rautatieverkosto lähimainkaan riittänyt niin nopeaan rajallesiirtämiseen. Lyhyessä ajassa rautatieasemat olivat täpö täynnä, rautatielinjat tukossa, puolen armeijasta täytyi kulkea jalan. Sotaministeri Leboeuf oli sanonut: »Olemme ihkavalmiita (archiprets) viimeistä säärysnappia myöten»; mutta ei puuttunut ainoastaan säärysnappeja, vaan kaikkea muutakin: kenttäkattiloita ja keittoastioita, telttoja ja satuloita, lääkeaineita ja kantopaareja, muonaa ja ammuksia. Intendentuuri petti täydellisesti; varastoissa vallitsi parantumaton sekasotku. Monet sotilaat eivät löytäneet osastojaan; useimmilta divisiooneilta puuttuivat kuormastot. Jalkaväki oli varustettu liian suurella pakkauksella ja liian vähällä metallirahalla, tykistö oli huonossa kunnossa eikä oikeassa paikassa. Oli pidetty niin itsestään selvänä, että sotaa tultaisiin käymään saksalaisella maaperällä, ettei esikunnille ollut ollenkaan jaettu Ranskan karttoja ja linnoitukset olivat hyvin laiminlyödyssä kunnossa. Kreivi Daru, Gramontin edeltäjä, sanoi myöhemmin aitoranskalaisella sofistiikalla: »Parhaana todistuksena niistä rauhallisista tunteista, joita Ranskalla siihen aikaan oli, oli kaikkien varustusten täydellinen puute meidän tahollamme, kaikkien varovaisuustoimenpiteiden, jopa alkeellisimpien ja välttämättömimpienkin puute. Onko milloinkaan nähty mitään samanlaista?»
ellauri276.html on line 1098: It´s round to the alehouse to toast an old friend. Se on pyöreä alehouse paahtamassa vanhaa ystävää.
ellauri308.html on line 673: kastruliegolovyi - kirjaimellisesti "keittoastia". Halventava termi Euromaidanin kannattajille. Niin kutsutut " diktatuurilait " kielsivät muun muassa kypärän käytön joukkokokouksissa. 19. tammikuuta 2014 jotkut Euromaidanin osallistujat kiersivät kieltoa käyttämällä keittoastioita kypäränä.
ellauri323.html on line 125: Yet, though a Greek would have railed at her asymmetry, and an Elizabethan have called her “gipsy,” Miss Dobson now, in the midst of the Edwardian Era, was the toast of two hemispheres.
ellauri352.html on line 469: "Sorry, I thought you were proposing a toast," he said.
ellauri392.html on line 665: Frank Lentricchian ruumiinavaus uuskritisismille 1980 järsi eritoten Murray Kriegeriä, ED Hirschiä, Jr, Paul da Mania ja Harold Bloomia. Pahoja mandariineja, paljon siemeniä. Hirsch ei pitänyt ranuista eikä sakemanneista. Vuonna 2003 ranskalaisten perunoiden nimi vaihdettiin ”vapausperunoiksi” Yhdysvaltain edustajainhuoneen ravintolassa kongressin edustajien Robert W. Neyn ja Walter B. Jones Jr:n aloitteesta. Samalla myös köyhien ritareiden (engl. french toast) nimi vaihdettiin ravintolassa muotoon freedom toast. Tämä kostona koska ranut evät lähteneet mukaan Bad Bush jr:n Irakin ryöstöretkeen. Kielipususta tuli vapaussuudelma. Lyhyestä visiitistä tuli vapausvierailu ja siitä ilman vapauskirjettä pistelty kuppa oli vapaustauti.
ellauri434.html on line 197: Fond experiences like these, often transmitted uncritically by those of us who teach and write about Russian literature, could explain why Bulgakov’s English readers were surprised when, in 2022, his high school removed his blue plaque and the Ukrainian Writers’ Union proposed the closure of the Bulgakov Museum. The words of the dashing hero of The White Guard who describes Ukrainian as a “vile language that does not exist” were frequently quoted. Ukrainians and non-Ukrainians alike had questions: should one hold an author responsible for the speech of his fictional characters? What had Bulgakov got to do with Putin? The museum’s directors, in an irony-laden and deliberately anachronistic demand of their own, asked the Writer’s Union to first expel Bulgakov from their ranks for “anti-Soviet activity”. But, given Russia’s deliberate policy of destroying places of cultural significance to Ukraine, and having read “Kiev — town” which is voiced by the author rather than a fictional character, I found myself in sympathy with victimless and limited actions to ‘cancel’ Bulgakov. I remembered how antisemitism is exclusively reserved for Ukrainian characters in The Day of the Turbins; how in Upton’s version Ukrainians celebrate victories with “a huge, ugly, violent cheer” while the Turbin family make lyrical toasts and sing. Bulgakov’s Ukrainians are the fictional predecessors of the fictional enemy imagined today by the Russian government, media, and its audiences: a Ukrainian population of antisemites and fascists. In fact, Bulgakov’s actual Ukrainian contemporaries, who are not represented in The Day of the Turbins, were both eloquent and courageous in speaking truth to power. A transcript exists of a conversation in 1929 between Stalin and a delegation of Ukrainian writers who requested The Day of the Turbins be cancelled due to its dangerous propagation of Great-Russian chauvinism. Stalin did not disagree with their interpretation of the play but reasoned that the Ukrainians’ concerns were insignificant given its potential to convince proletarian audiences that even the most reactionary White Guards (and authors) could become Bolsheviks. The most basic material needs of Ukrainians were concurrently to be deemed insignificant with Stalin’s genocidal policies of collectivisation and the largely fictive Holodomor.
xxx/ellauri087.html on line 461: The phrase "there will be time" occurs repeatedly in a section of T. S. Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" (1915), and is often said to be an allusion to Marvell's poem. Prufrock says that there will be time "for the yellow smoke that slides along the street", time "to murder and create", and time "for a hundred indecisions ... Before the taking of a toast and tea". As Eliot's hero is, in fact, putting off romance and consummation, he is (falsely) answering Marvell's speaker.
xxx/ellauri125.html on line 706: Make some toast in the tub
xxx/ellauri417.html on line 546: This is a sequel to 2020's The Morning Star, right? I must have asked myself that at least a dozen times during the first several hundred pages of "The Wolves of Eternity," because it's not at all apparent. At 666 pages, "The Morning Star" was stuffed full of characters. "The Wolves of Eternity," at 800 pages, is really only concerned with two, neither of whom was featured in the previous book. It's not until more than 700 pages in — 700! — that the same star appears in the sky, equally befuddling the characters of this second book. Up until that point, though, "The Wolves of Eternity" feels like it exists in an entirely separate universe from that first one. I'm sorry to say, that's not a good thing. This is the eighth work of fiction I've read by Karl Ove Knausgård, who, following the second entry in his "My Struggle" series, quickly became one of my favorite authors. I loved all six books in that series, and I loved the first entry in this one, the aforementioned "Morning Star." But this? This book feels as soggy as that one felt crisp. Insipid and light whereas that book felt meaningful and weighty. The first book is a thriller of the best sort, a Dostoevsky-like work full of moral dilemmas and gothic horror. This one feels meandering and pointless. An incredibly taxing number of words to no real purpose. If this had been the first book in the series, it would have been my last. Only because the first one was so good will I carry on and read the third part when it's released, but I'll do so warily, much less inclined to forgive than I was going into this one. I mentioned that while "The Morning Star" contained a whole plethora of characters, this one contains only two. Or maybe 2 1/2. There's a barely formed writer character who suddenly begins to be featured toward the end. We're even treated to one of her essays, although "treated" would be the wrong word. It's a bore. Otherwise, "The Wolves of Eternity" rotates entirely around two characters. We spend the first 450 or pages with Syvert in Norway, and 250 or so with Alevtina in Russia before flipping back to Syvert and then back again. It takes a good long while — i.e. 600+ pages — before we learn how these characters are connected but it doesn't really matter because neither one is particularly likable. Knausgård's writing around Syvert is better, which makes this part of the book slightly more readable (not that that's saying much) but Syvert still comes off as something of a charmless oaf. Alevtina, meanwhile, is even more unlikable. Prone to making rash emotional decisions, she's one of the more frustrating characters I've come across. I didn't like her part of the story at all, despite its arguably more interesting setting, and I was very eager to leave her behind. Another real axe I have to grind here concerns Martin Aitken's translation. It's terrible. Like, distractingly bad. For whatever reason, Aitken translates the entire book into what feels like British cockney. Why would a book set in Norway and Russia and consisting entirely of Norwegian and Russian characters have those characters — particularly Syvert — speaking like they're from East London? It doesn't make sense and it is never less than enraging. A book by a major literary star that feels like it was translated specifically for those who like their English in cockney? Why? The awful translation undoubtedly colored my view of the book, as I couldn't help but view Syvert as a lost character from Burgess' "Clockwork Orange." How did this milquetoast Alex DeLarge find himself in a Knausgård novel? I'm not sure I made it clear earlier, but I am a massive Knausgård fan. Truly. But this, for me, is a serious misfire. Perhaps, when the series is laid to rest, this second entry will be redeemed by dint of what comes after, but such redemption would be a miraculous turnaround — tantamount to the appearance of a huge new star in the sky. For now, though, I have to condemn this book not for being such a letdown, but simply for being such a massively dull book on its own. Bloated. Tired. Rudderless. A waterlogged corpse of a book.
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