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+ }
+}
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diff --git a/evaluation/tables/baselines_simple.csv b/evaluation/tables/baselines_simple.csv
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..ad89453ba4fa94a9940d7b60a46a1948334429d5
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diff --git a/evaluation/tables/baselines_trained.csv b/evaluation/tables/baselines_trained.csv
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--- /dev/null
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diff --git a/evaluation/tables/calibrated_metrics.csv b/evaluation/tables/calibrated_metrics.csv
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..e82c878fbddc2ffe830e80cce6b1b744e9b7614d
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diff --git a/evaluation/tables/cka_disentanglement.json b/evaluation/tables/cka_disentanglement.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..18e702d05a750985ea9437e9edb886df081feefd
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+ "simplex_penalty": 0.0007237753015942872
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/evaluation/tables/final_overall_table.csv b/evaluation/tables/final_overall_table.csv
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diff --git a/evaluation/tables/hard_correct_low_margin.csv b/evaluation/tables/hard_correct_low_margin.csv
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..d9827d582b845521cedb2add30501f6a188b6ee7
--- /dev/null
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@@ -0,0 +1,501 @@
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+"lexical = 40, order = 40 You are glad, little mother, that God has sent you an opportunity of doing one good deed in exchange for another, and of showing your gratitude. I have faith in that, Varenka, I have faith in the goodness of your angel’s heart, and I say this not as a rebuke – but please do not reproach me, as you have done, for squandering my money in my old age. Yes, if you really must insist that I have sinned, then what is there to be done about it? I have sinned; only it costs me much to hear such things from you, my little friend. You must not be angry with me for saying this; in my breast there is nothing but pain and hurt, little mother. Poor folk are capricious – that is the way nature makes them. This is not the first time I have felt it. The poor man is a severe critic; he looks at God’s world from a different angle, he furtively sizes up each person he meets, looks about him with a troubled gaze, and listens carefully to every word he overhears – are people talking about him? Are they saying he is not much to look at, wondering about what he is feeling, what he is like from this point of view and that point of view? And Varenka, everyone knows that a poor man is worth less than an old rag, and cannot hope for respect from anyone, whatever they may write, those scribblers, whatever they may write! The poor man will remain the same as he has always been. And why will he remain the same? Because, according to their lights, the poor man must be turned inside out; he must have no privacy, no dignity of any kind! Yemelya told me the other day that some people somewhere organized a whip-round for him, and that a sort of official check was made of every copeck that was paid to him. They thought they were giving him their money out of charity – but they weren’t: they were paying for having a poor man exhibited to them. Even charity is conducted in a peculiar way nowadays, little mother… but perhaps it has always been like that – who knows! Either they don’t know how to do it, or they’re past masters at it – one or the other. Perhaps you didn’t know that; well, there you are! In any other field of knowledge you can count us out, but here we’re experts! And how does it come to be that a poor man knows all this and thinks all these things? Why, because he has experience! Because, for example, he knows that there is at his side a gentleman who is going to a restaurant, saying to himself: ‘What is that ragged clerk going to eat today? I’m going to have sauté papillotte, while he is probably going to have kasha with no butter. But what business is it of his, what I’m going to eat? There is a type of man, Varenka, who thinks only about things like that. And they go about, the shameless lampoonists, looking to see whether you put the whole of your foot down on the pavement or just the tips of your toes; look, they say, such-and-such a clerk from such-and-such a department, a titular councillor, is going around with his bare toes sticking out of his boots, and the elbows of his jacket worn through – and then they go home and write about it all and then have this rubbish printed… But what business is it of his that my elbows are worn through? Indeed, if you will forgive me a coarse expression, Varenka, I will even go so far as to say that on this account the poor man has a modesty that is equivalent to your own maidenly reticence. I mean, you wouldn’t – please forgive my vulgarity – unveil yourself in front of everyone, would you? In precisely the same way the poor man doesn’t like people to look into his hideaway to see what his private life is like. And so there was no need to insult me, Varenka, taking sides with my enemies who assail the honour and personal dignity of an honest man.","I’m going to eat saute papillotte while he is going to eat porridge without butter, maybe.”",1,0.5548323,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 ""Ah, a signal! Water is coming, he thought, by morning it will rush, where the place is lower, into the streets, it will flood the cellars and cellars, cellar rats will emerge, and in the rain and wind people will begin, swearing, wet, dragging their rubbish to the upper floors ... And What time is it now? "" And just as he thought this, somewhere nearby, ticking and as if hurrying with all his might, the wall clock struck three. I’ll get out right away, straight to Petrovsky Park; What am I waiting for? ‘Hey, in another hour dawn will be breaking! somewhere I’ll choose a large bush, all covered in rain, so that it hurts a little with my shoulder, and millions of splashes will cover my whole head ... ” He moved away from the window, locked it, lit a candle, pulled it over himself waistcoat, coat, put on a hat and went out with a candle into the corridor to find somewhere sleeping in a closet between all sorts of rubbish and candle stubs, pay him for the number and leave the hotel. “The best minute, you can’t choose better!”","So, again, let him not be ashamed that von is a sinful vessel of the waters of his nature, but the grace of God is infinite. So Vona chose and cried, saying, 'So when I lay down undressed in bed, I started picking up dirt between my toes and sniffing for it.'",0,0.554003,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 Under the lash of a beautiful woman my senses first realized the meaning of woman. In her fur-jacket she seemed to me like a wrathful queen, and from then on my aunt became the most desirable woman on God's earth. ""Now you understand the supersensual fool! ","I don't know what to say to him? said Mr. Green, finally pulling a letter out of his pocket and laying it on the table in front of him. It is quite commendable that he should wish to return to his uncle, and it would be reasonable to believe that he would make the uncle particularly happy by doing so. It would have to be that his disobedience made his uncle too angry, which is also possible. In that case, however, it would be better if he stayed here. It's just difficult to say something specific, we are both friends of the uncle and it should be difficult to recognize differences in rank between my friendship and Mr. Pollunder's, but we can't look into the inside of the uncle and especially not over the many kilometers who are separating us from New York here."" ""Please Mr. Green,"" said Karl and approached Mr. Green with self-control, ""I can hear from your words that you also think it would be best if I came back immediately.",0,0.5530678,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 This is what happened! I shall tell you without regard for style, just as the Good Lord puts the words into my head. I went to the department today. I arrived, sat down, and started to write. I should also tell you, little mother, that I had been writing the day before as well. Well, it was like this: Timofey Ivanovich came to me yesterday with an order for a document which was required in a hurry. ‘Please copy it cleanly, swiftly and carefully, Makar Alekseyevich,’ he said. ‘It is to be signed today.’ I should observe, little angel, that I was not quite myself yesterday, and had no interest in anything; such were the sadness and depression that had overtaken me. My heart was cold and my soul was dark; my memory held nothing but you, my poor little treasure. Well, so I got down to the task of copying; I did the work cleanly and well, except that – I don’t know how to explain it to you, whether it was the work of the Unclean One, whether it had been preordained by some secret Fate, or whether it simply had to happen that way – I left out a whole line; Lord knows what sense it must have made, it simply didn’t make any. There was a delay over the delivery of the document, and it wasn’t handed to His Excellency for signature until today. I reported for work this morning at the usual time and stationed myself beside Yemelyan Ivanovich. I should observe to you, my dear, that I have recently begun to feel twice as ashamed and apologetic as I used to. I’ve recently begun to find it impossible to look at anyone. If anyone is chair so much as gives a creak, I feel more dead than alive. That was how it was today: I sat huddled up, not making a sound, like a hedgehog, with the result that Yefim Akimovich (there never was such a bully) said so that everyone could hear: ‘What are you sitting there looking so scared for, Makar Alekseyevich?’ And he made such a face that absolutely everyone near us split their sides with laughter, at my expense, of course. They laughed, and they laughed! I stuck my fingers in my ears and shut my eyes, just sat there, not moving. That is what I usually do; that way they usually desist sooner. Suddenly I heard noise, the sound of running footsteps, fuss and bustle ; I listened – surely my ears must be deceiving me? My name was being called, someone was asking for me, for Devushkin. My heart began to quiver within me, and I still don’t really know why I was so scared; all I know is that I was more scared than I have ever been in my life before. I became rooted to mychair – asthough nothing were wrong, as though I were not even there. But again the voice started up, coming nearer and nearer. At last it was right next to my ear: ‘ Devushkin! Devushkin! Where is Devushkin?’ I raised my eyes: before me stood Yevstafy Ivanovich; he said: ‘Makar Alekseyevich, you’ve to go to His Excellency, at the double! You’ve made a mistake in a document!’ That was all he said, but it was enough, little mother, don’t you think! I went numb, froze, lost all feeling; and began to walk, more dead than alive. I was escorted through one room, through a second, then a third, into a study – I stood before His Excellency! It is impossible for me to give you a positive account of the thoughts that passed through my mind at that moment. I saw His Excellency standing there, and they were all standing around him. I don’t think I bowed; I forgot. Struck dumb, I merely stood there, my lips trembling and my legs shaking. And I had reason to be struck dumb, little mother. For one thing, I was ashamed of myself; I took a glance in a mirror to the right of me, and what I saw in it nearly sent me out of my mind. And for another, I have always tried to do my job as though I myself were not actually there. So that it was hardly likely that His Excellency could know of my existence. Perhaps he might have heard in passing, as it were, that there was a member of staff named Devushkin in the department, but he would never have had any close dealings with him.","Every hour, every minute I could occupy in writing. Indeed I could write to you forever!",0,0.5526604,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 The little incident has been smoothed over. What are they doing with me out there? But the anger continues to rage inside me. Back and forth, up and down, cold and warm - no, I won't let myself be rushed! I said three days, three and a half days to go and not an hour more! So who cares if they’ve put off the trip to Switzerland or not? I’m not having my nerves torn to shreds any longer , I’m not letting my damned pity torment me. This will drive me out of my mind!",Where do they think I can get them?,0,0.55263025,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 They stood motionless in that cellar, in that darkness, below that beam, virtually hanged, having to make unbelievable efforts to reach their bread or their jug, with the vault overhead, mud halfway up their legs, their own excrement running down the backs of their legs, racked with exhaustion, sagging at the hips and at the knees, clinging to the chains with their hands in order to rest, only able to sleep standing up, and woken at every moment by the strangling collar. Some did not wake. To eat, using their heels they nudged up their shins to within reach of their hands the bread that was thrown to them in the mud. As the chains were too short, they could not lie down.","Alexei Alexandrovich took great pains with them, wrote them a program from which they were not supposed to deviate, and after letting them go, wrote letters to Petersburg for the deputation’s guidance.",0,0.5524794,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 Yes, however, enough about this matter; I'm writing it all like this, my angel, for the sake of pampering, to amuse you. Farewell, my dove! I scribbled a lot for you here, but this, in fact, is because I am in the most cheerful state of mind today. We all dined together today at Ratazyaev's, so (they are naughty, mother!) they launched such novels ... well, what can you write about it! You just look, don’t come up with anything about me, Varenka. I'm all like that. I’ll send books, I’ll certainly send them ... There’s only one essay going around Paul de Coca’s hands, only there won’t be Paul de Coca for you, mother, ... No, no! Paul de Coq is no good for you. They say about him, mother, that he brings all Petersburg critics to noble indignation. I am sending you a pound of sweets - I bought it for you on purpose. Eat, darling, and remember me with every candy. Only you don’t gnaw on a lollipop, but just suck on it, otherwise your teeth will ache. And you, maybe, and candied fruit love? - you will write. Well, goodbye, goodbye. Christ be with you, my dear. And I will stay forever","It will always be my one happiness in life. Pray, therefore, leave me that happiness, and do not seek to cross me in it.",0,0.5522681,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 80 In eyes that don’t even look at me I suspect there are smirks (which I consider only natural) directed at the awkward exception I embody in a world of people who know how to act and to enjoy life; and the passing physiognomies, informed by an awareness that I myself have interposed and superimposed, seem to snicker out loud at my life’s timid gesticulations. Reflecting on all this, I try to convince myself that the smirks and mild reproach I feel come from me, and me alone, but once the image of me looking ridiculous has been objectified in others, I can no longer say it’s just mine.","Consequently, I tell you roundly that I MUST borrow, and that I must continue to do so.",0,0.55203414,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 60 , with a certain royal assurance which was not wanting in pride, entitled the twenty-second of his reign. It is the year in which M. Bruguière de Sorsum was celebrated. All the hairdressers’ shops, hoping for powder and the return of the royal bird, were besmeared with azure and decked with fleurs-de-lys. It was the candid time at which Count Lynch sat every Sunday as church-warden in the church-warden’s pew of Saint-Germain-des-Prés, in his costume of a peer of France, with his red ribbon and his long nose and the majesty of profile peculiar to a man who has performed a brilliant action. The brilliant action performed by M. Lynch was this: being mayor of Bordeaux, on the 12th of March, 1814, he had surrendered the city a little too promptly to M. the Duke d’Angoulême. Hence his peerage. In 1817 fashion swallowed up little boys of from four to six years of age in vast caps of morocco leather with ear-tabs resembling Esquimaux mitres. The French army was dressed in white, after the mode of the Austrian; the regiments were called legions; instead of numbers they bore the names of departments; Napoleon was at St. Helena; and since England refused him green cloth, he was having his old coats turned. In 1817 Pelligrini sang; Mademoiselle Bigottini danced; Potier reigned; Odry did not yet exist. Madame Saqui had succeeded to Forioso. There were still Prussians in France. M. Delalot was a personage. Legitimacy had just asserted itself by cutting off the hand, then the head, of Pleignier, of Carbonneau, and of Tolleron. The Prince de Talleyrand, grand chamberlain, and the Abbé Louis, appointed minister of finance, laughed as they looked at each other, with the laugh of the two augurs; both of them had celebrated, on the 14th of July, 1790, the mass of federation in the Champ de Mars; Talleyrand had said it as bishop, Louis had served it in the capacity of deacon. In 1817, in the side-alleys of this same Champ de Mars, two great cylinders of wood might have been seen lying in the rain, rotting amid the grass, painted blue, with traces of eagles and bees, from which the gilding was falling. These were the columns which two years before had upheld the Emperor’s platform in the Champ de Mai. They were blackened here and there with the scorches of the bivouac of Austrians encamped near Gros-Caillou. Two or three of these columns had disappeared in these bivouac fires, and had warmed the large hands of the Imperial troops. The Field of May had this remarkable point: that it had been held in the month of June and in the Field of March (Mars). In this year, 1817, two things were popular: the Voltaire-Touquet and the snuff-box à la Charter. The most recent Parisian sensation was the crime of Dautun, who had thrown his brother’s head into the fountain of the Flower-Market. They had begun to feel anxious at the Naval Department, on account of the lack of news from that fatal frigate, The Medusa, which was destined to cover Chaumareix with infamy and Géricault with glory. Colonel Selves was going to Egypt to become Soliman-Pasha. The palace of Thermes, in the Rue de La Harpe, served as a shop for a cooper. On the platform of the octagonal tower of the Hotel de Cluny, the little shed of boards, which had served as an observatory to Messier, the naval astronomer under Louis XVI., was still to be seen. The Duchesse de Duras read to three or four friends her unpublished Ourika, in her boudoir furnished by X. in sky-blue satin. The N’s were scratched off the Louvre. The bridge of Austerlitz had abdicated, and was entitled the bridge of the King’s Garden [du Jardin du Roi], a double enigma, which disguised the bridge of Austerlitz and the Jardin des Plantes at one stroke. Louis XVIII. , much preoccupied while annotating Horace with the corner of his finger-nail, heroes who have become emperors, and makers of wooden shoes who have become dauphins, had two anxieties,—Napoleon and Mathurin Bruneau. The French Academy had given for its prize subject, The Happiness procured through Study. M. Bellart was officially eloquent. In his shadow could be seen germinating that future advocate-general of Broë, dedicated to the sarcasms of Paul-Louis Courier. There was a false Chateaubriand, named Marchangy, in the interim, until there should be a false Marchangy, named d’Arlincourt. Claire d’Albe and Malek-Adel were masterpieces; Madame Cottin was proclaimed the chief writer of the epoch. The Institute had the academician, Napoleon Bonaparte, stricken from its list of members. A royal ordinance erected Angoulême into a naval school; for the Duc d’Angoulême, being lord high admiral, it was evident that the city of Angoulême had all the qualities of a seaport; otherwise the monarchical principle would have received a wound. In the Council of Ministers the question was agitated whether vignettes representing slack-rope performances, which adorned Franconi’s advertising posters, and which attracted throngs of street urchins, should be tolerated. All the young girls were singing The Hermit of Saint-Avelle, lyrics by Edmond Géraud. The Yellow Dwarf transformed into a Mirror. The Café Lemblin held for the Emperor against the Café Valois which held for the Bourbons. M. le Duc de Berry had just been married to a princess of Sicily, already watched from the depths of the shadow by Louvel. M. Paër, author of Agnese, a square-faced man with a wart on his cheek, conducted the little private concerts of the Marquise de Sassenaye in the rue de la Ville-l’Évêque. Madame de Staël had died a year previously. The body-guard hissed Mademoiselle Mars. The grand newspapers were all very small. Their form was restricted, but their liberty was great. The Constitutionnel was constitutional. La Minerve called Chateaubriand Chateaubriant. That t made the good middle-class people laugh heartily at the expense of the great writer. In journals which sold themselves, prostituted journalists, insulted the exiles of 1815. David had no longer any talent, Arnault had no longer any wit, Carnot was no longer honest , Soult had won no battles; it is true that Napoleon had no longer any genius. No one is ignorant of the fact that letters sent to an exile by post very rarely reached him, as the police made it their religious duty to intercept them. This is no new fact; Descartes complained of it in his exile. Now David, having, in a Belgian publication, shown some displeasure at not receiving letters which had been written to him, it struck the royalist journals as amusing; and they derided the prescribed man well on this occasion. What separated two men more than an abyss was to say, the regicides, or to say the voters; to say the enemies, or to say the allies; to say Napoleon, or to say Buonaparte. All sensible people were agreed that the era of revolution had been closed forever by King Louis XVIII. , surnamed “The Immortal Author of the Charter.” On the platform of the Pont-Neuf, the word Redivivus was carved on the pedestal that awaited the statue of Henry IV. M. Piet, in the Rue Thérèse, No. 4, was making the rough draft of his privy assembly to consolidate the monarchy. The leaders of the Right said at grave conjunctures, “We must write to Bacot.” MM. Canuel, O’Mahoney, and De Chappedelaine were preparing the sketch, to some extent with Monsieur’s approval, of what was to become later on “The Conspiracy of the Bord de l’Eau”—of the waterside. L’Épingle Noire was already plotting in his own quarter. Delaverderie was conferring with Trogoff. M. Decazes, who was liberal to a degree, reigned. Chateaubriand stood every morning at his window at No. 27 Rue Saint-Dominique, clad in footed trousers, and slippers, with a madras kerchief knotted over his gray hair, with his eyes fixed on a mirror, a complete set of dentist’s instruments spread out before him, cleaning his teeth, which were charming, while he dictated The Monarchy according to the Charter to M. Pilorge, his secretary. Criticism, assuming an authoritative tone, preferred Lafon to Talma. M. de Féletez signed himself A.; M. Hoffmann signed himself Z. Charles Nodier wrote Thérèse Aubert. Divorce was abolished. Lyceums called themselves colleges. The collegians, decorated on the collar with a golden fleur-de-lys, fought each other apropos of the King of Rome. The counter-police of the château had denounced to her Royal Highness Madame, the portrait, everywhere exhibited, of M. the Duc d’Orléans, who made a better appearance in his uniform of a colonel-general of hussars than M. the Duc de Berri, in his uniform of colonel-general of dragoons—a serious inconvenience. The city of Paris was having the dome of the Invalides regilded at its own expense. Serious men asked themselves what M. de Trinquelague would do on such or such an occasion; M. Clausel de Montals differed on divers points from M. Clausel de Coussergues; M. de Salaberry was not satisfied. The comedian Picard, who belonged to the Academy, which the comedian Molière had not been able to do, had The Two Philiberts played at the Odéon, upon whose pediment the removal of the letters still allowed THEATRE OF THE EMPRESS to be plainly read. People took part for or against Cugnet de Montarlot. Fabvier was factious; Bavoux was revolutionary. The Liberal, Pélicier, published an edition of Voltaire, with the following title: Works of Voltaire, of the French Academy. “That will attract purchasers,” said the ingenious editor. The general opinion was that M. Charles Loyson would be the genius of the century; envy was beginning to gnaw at him—a sign of glory; and this verse was composed on him:—","“No,” said one of these gentlemen, “we ask you if you are not tenderly in love with the King of the Bulgarians. ""Not at all,"" he said, ""because I've never seen him. - How? ' Or' What! he is the most charming of kings, and we must drink to his health. -",0,0.55184543,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 Well, as we came out of the concert, and, on our way back to the hotel, had stopped for a moment on the 'front,' my grandmother and I, for a few words with Mme. de Villeparisis who told us that she had ordered some croque–monsieurs and a dish of creamed eggs for us at the hotel , I saw, a long way away, coming in our direction, the Princesse de Luxembourg, half leaning upon a parasol in such a way as to impart to her tall and wonderful form that slight inclination, to make it trace that arabesque dear to the women who had been beautiful under the Empire, and knew how, with drooping shoulders, arched backs, concave hips and bent limbs, to make their bodies float as gently as a silken scarf about the rigidity of the invisible stem which might be supposed to have been passed diagonally through them. She went out every morning for a turn on the beach almost at the time when everyone else, after bathing, was climbing home to luncheon, and as hers was not until half past one she did not return to her villa until long after the hungry bathers had left the scorching 'front' a desert. Mme. de Villeparisis presented my grandmother and would have presented me, but had first to ask me my name, which she could not remember. She had, perhaps, never known it, or if she had must have forgotten years ago to whom my grandmother had married her daughter. My name, when she did hear it, appeared to impress Mme. de Villeparisis considerably. Meanwhile the Princesse de Luxembourg had given us her hand and, now and again, while she conversed with the Marquise, turned to bestow a kindly glance on my grandmother and myself, with that embryonic kiss which we put into our smiles when they are addressed to a baby out with its 'Nana.' Indeed, in her anxiety not to appear to be a denizen of a higher sphere than ours, she had probably miscalculated the distance there was indeed between us, for by an error in adjustment she made her eyes beam with such benevolence that I could see the moment approaching when she would put out her hand and stroke us, as if we were two nice beasts and had poked our heads out at her through the bars of our cage in the Gardens. And, immediately, as it happened, this idea of caged animals and the Bois de Boulogne received striking confirmation. It was the time of day at which the beach is crowded by itinerant and clamorous vendors, hawking cakes and sweets and biscuits. Not knowing quite what to do to shew her affection for us, the Princess hailed the next that came by; he had nothing left but one rye–cake, of the kind one throws to the ducks. The Princess took it and said to me: ""For your grandmother."" And yet it was to me that she held it out, saying with a friendly smile, ""You shall give it to her yourself!"" thinking that my pleasure would thus be more complete if there were no intermediary between myself and the animals. Other vendors came up; she stuffed my pockets with everything that they had, tied up in packets, comfits, sponge–cakes, sugar–sticks. ""You will eat some yourself,"" she told me, ""and give some to your grandmother,"" and she had the vendors paid by the little Negro page, dressed in red satin, who followed her everywhere and was a nine days' wonder upon the beach. Then she said good–bye to Mme. de Villeparisis and held out her hand to us with the intention of treating us in the same way as she treated her friend, as people whom she knew, and of bringing herself within our reach. But this time she must have reckoned our level as not quite so low in the scale of creation, for her and our equality was indicated by the Princess to my grandmother by that tender and maternal smile which a woman gives a little boy when she says good–bye to him as though to a grown–up person. By a miraculous stride in evolution, my grandmother was no longer a duck or an antelope, but had already become what the anglophil Mme. Swann would have called a 'baby.' My second one, as will be seen, was to astonish me just as much by her graciousness. She was my very first Highness, not counting Princesse Mathilde, who in any case had nothing high and mighty about her. Having taken her leave of us, the Princess of Luxembourg, with the slow undulations of her magnificent figure, took up again her interrupted stroll along the sun-drenched esplanade, her whole person winding itself round the rolled-up blue and white sunshade she held in her hand, as a snake coils about a wand. I was to become acquainted with one mode of the civility of the great the very next day, when Mme de Villeparisis gave us this report: ‘She thought you were both just charming. She is a woman of the soundest judgment, the warmest heart. Not like so many Queens and people! She has real merit."" And Mme. de Villeparisis went on in a tone of conviction, and quite thrilled to be able to say it to us: "" I am sure she would be delighted to see you again.""","A more beautiful place did not exist. The lawn in front of the house lay in a gentle slope and was covered with fine, light-green grass. There never was such a lawn. The sheep were allowed to graze there and the children to romp there in their games, but it was always just as even and green. The scythe never passed over it, but at least once a week the mistress of the house had all sticks and straws and dry leaves swept from the fresh grass. He looked at the gravel walk in front of the house and suddenly drew his feet back. The children had late in the evening raked it and his big feet had done terrible harm to the fine work. Think how everything grew there.",0,0.55139256,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 Even if the gods and generals in the sky can't be subdued, even if Erlang captures them. Laojun uses fire to exercise, but it can't be injured.","Though the inhabitants of the west are not first-rate illuminates, they live long, abstemious lives. But the inhabitants of the southern continent, I’m afraid, are a lecherous, wicked, and violent lot, bubbling over with poison and spite.",1,0.55793566,1
+"lexical = 100, order = 100 ""My dear Uncle,"" said K., ""it won't do any good to get excited , it's no good for you to do it and it'd be no good for me to do it. The case won't be won by getting excited, and please admit that my practical experience counts for something, just as I have always and still do respect your experience, even when it surprises me. You say that the family will also be affected by this trial; I really can't see how, but that's beside the point and I'm quite willing to follow your instructions in all of this. Only, I don't see any advantage in staying in the country, not even for you, as that would indicate flight and a sense of guilt. And besides, although I am more subject to persecution if I stay in the city I can also press the matter forward better here."" ""You're right,"" said his uncle in a tone that seemed to indicate they were finally coming closer to each other, ""I just made the suggestion because, as I saw it, if you stay in the city the case will be put in danger by your indifference to it, and I thought it was better if I did the work for you. But will you push things forward yourself with all your strength, if so, that will naturally be far better."" ""We're agreed then,"" said K. "" And do you have any suggestions for what I should do next?"" ""Well, naturally I'll have to think about it,"" said his uncle, ""you must bear in mind that I've been living in the country for twenty years now, almost without a break, you lose your ability to deal with matters like this. But I do have some important connections with several people who, I expect, know their way around these things better than I do, and to contact them is a matter of course. Out there in the country I've been getting out of condition, I'm sure you're already aware of that. It's only at times like this that you notice it yourself. And this affair of yours came largely unexpected, although, oddly enough, I had expected something of the sort after I'd read Erna's letter, and today when I saw your face I knew it with almost total certainty. But all that is by the by, the important thing now is, we have no time to lose."" Even while he was still speaking, K.'s uncle had stood on tiptoe to summon a taxi and now he pulled K. into the car behind himself as he called out an address to the driver. ""We're going now to see Dr. Huld, the lawyer,"" he said, ""we were at school together. I'm sure you know the name, don't you? No? Well that is odd. He's got a very good reputation as a defence barrister and for working with the poor. But I esteem him especially as someone you can trust."" ""It's alright with me, whatever you do,"" said K., although he was made uneasy by the rushed and urgent way his uncle was dealing with the matter. It was not very encouraging, as the accused, be to taken to a lawyer for poor people. ""I didn't know,"" he said, ""that you could take on a lawyer in matters like this."" ""Well of course you can,"" said his uncle, ""that goes without saying. Why wouldn't you take on a lawyer? And now, so that I'm properly instructed in this matter, tell me what's been happening so far."" K. instantly began telling his uncle about what had been happening, holding nothing back - being completely open with him was the only way that K. could protest at his uncle's belief that the trial was a great disgrace. He mentioned Miss Bürstner's name just once and in passing, but that did nothing to diminish his openness about the trial as Miss Bürstner had no connection with it. As he spoke, he looked out the window and saw how, just then, they were getting closer to the suburb where the court offices were. He drew this to his uncle's attention, but he did not find the coincidence especially remarkable. The taxi stopped in front of a dark building. K.'s uncle knocked at the very first door at ground level; while they waited he smiled, showing his big teeth, and whispered, ""Eight o'clock; not the usual sort of time to be visiting a lawyer, but Huld won't mind it from me. "" Two large, black eyes appeared in the spy-hatch in the door, they stared at the two visitors for a while and then disappeared; the door, however, did not open. K. and his uncle confirmed to each other the fact that they had seen the two eyes. "" A new maid, afraid of strangers,"" said K.'s uncle, and knocked again. The eyes appeared once more. This time they seemed almost sad, but the open gas flame that burned with a hiss close above their heads gave off little light and that may have merely created an illusion. "" Open the door,"" called K.'s uncle, raising his fist against it, ""we are friends of Dr. Huld, the lawyer!"" ""Dr. Huld is ill,"" whispered someone behind them. In a doorway at the far end of a narrow passage stood a man in his dressing gown, giving them this information in an extremely quiet voice. K.'s uncle, who had already been made very angry by the long wait, turned abruptly round and retorted, ""Ill? You say he's ill?"" and strode towards the gentleman in a way that seemed almost threatening, as if he were the illness himself. ""They've opened the door for you, now,"" said the gentleman, pointing at the door of the lawyer. He pulled his dressing gown together and disappeared. The door had indeed been opened, a young girl - K. recognised the dark, slightly bulging eyes - stood in the hallway in a long white apron, holding a candle in her hand. "" Next time, open up sooner!"" said K.'s uncle instead of a greeting, while the girl made a slight curtsey. "" Come along, Josef,"" he then said to K. who was slowly moving over towards the girl. "" Dr. Huld is unwell,"" said the girl as K.'s uncle, without stopping, rushed towards one of the doors. K. continued to look at the girl in amazement as she turned round to block the way into the living room, she had a round face like a puppy's, not only the pale cheeks and the chin were round but the temples and the hairline were too. "" Josef!"" called his uncle once more, and he asked the girl, ""It's trouble with his heart, is it?"" ""I think it is, sir,"" said the girl, who by now had found time to go ahead with the candle and open the door into the room. In one corner of the room, where the light of the candle did not reach, a face with a long beard looked up from the bed. ""Leni, who's this coming in?"" asked the lawyer, unable to recognise his guests because he was dazzled by the candle. ""It's your old friend, Albert,"" said K.'s uncle. "" Oh, Albert,"" said the lawyer, falling back onto his pillow as if this visit meant he would not need to keep up appearances. ""Is it really as bad as that?"" asked K.'s uncle, sitting on the edge of the bed. ""I don't believe it is. It's a recurrence of your heart trouble and it'll pass over like the other times."" ""Maybe,"" said the lawyer quietly, ""but it's just as much trouble as it's ever been. I can hardly breathe , I can't sleep at all and I'm getting weaker by the day."" ""I see,"" said K.'s uncle, pressing his panama hat firmly against his knee with his big hand. ""That is bad news. But are you getting the right sort of care? And it's so depressing in here , it's so dark. It's a long time since I was last here, but it seemed to me friendlier then. Even your young lady here doesn't seem to have much life in her, unless she's just pretending. "" The maid was still standing by the door with the candle; as far as could be made out, she was watching K. more than she was watching his uncle even while the latter was still speaking about her. K. leant against a chair that he had pushed near to the girl. ""When you're as ill as I am,"" said the lawyer, ""you need to have peace. I don't find it depressing."" After a short pause he added, ""and Leni looks after me well , she's a good girl."" But that was not enough to persuade K.'s uncle, he had visibly taken against his friend's carer and, even though he did not contradict the invalid, he persecuted her with his scowl as she went over to the bed, put the candle on the bedside table and, leaning over the bed, made a fuss of him by tidying the pillows. K.'s uncle nearly forgot the need to show any consideration for the man who lay ill in bed, he stood up, walked up and down behind the carer, and K. would not have been surprised if he had grabbed hold of her skirts behind her and dragged her away from the bed. K. himself looked on calmly, he was not even disappointed at finding the lawyer unwell, he had been able to do nothing to oppose the enthusiasm his uncle had developed for the matter, he was glad that this enthusiasm had now been distracted without his having to do anything about it. His uncle, probably simply wishing to be offensive to the lawyer's attendant, then said, ""Young lady, now please leave us alone for a while, I have some personal matters to discuss with my friend."" Dr. Huld's carer was still leant far over the invalid's bed and smoothing out the cloth covering the wall next to it, she merely turned her head and then, in striking contrast with the anger that first stopped K.'s uncle from speaking and then let the words out in a gush, she said very quietly, ""You can see that Dr. Huld is so ill that he can't discuss any matters at all. "" It was probably just for the sake of convenience that she had repeated the words spoken by K.'s uncle, but an onlooker might even have perceived it as mocking him and he, of course, jumped up as if he had just been stabbed. ""You damned ...,"" in the first gurglings of his excitement his words could hardly be understood, K. was startled even though he had been expecting something of the sort and ran to his uncle with the intention, no doubt, of closing his mouth with both his hands. Fortunately, though, behind the girl, the invalid raised himself up, K.'s uncle made an ugly face as if swallowing something disgusting and then, somewhat calmer, said, ""We have naturally not lost our senses, not yet; if what I am asking for were not possible I would not be asking for it. Now please, go!"" The carer stood up straight by the bed directly facing K.'s uncle, K. thought he noticed that with one hand she was stroking the lawyer's hand. ""You can say anything in front of Leni,"" said the invalid, in a tone that was unmistakably imploring. ""It's not my business,"" said K.'s uncle, ""and it's not my secrets. "" And he twisted himself round as if wanting to go into no more negotiations but giving himself a little more time to think. "" Whose business is it then?"" asked the lawyer in an exhausted voice as he leant back again. ""My nephew's,"" said K.'s uncle, ""and I've brought him along with me. "" And he introduced him, ""Chief Clerk Josef K."" ""Oh!"" said the invalid, now with much more life in him, and reached out his hand towards K. ""Do forgive me, I didn't notice you there at all."" Then he then said to his carer, ""Leni, go,"" stretching his hand out to her as if this were a farewell that would have to last for a long time. This time the girl offered no resistance. "" So you,"" he finally said to K.'s uncle, who had also calmed down and stepped closer, ""you haven't come to visit me because I'm ill but you've come on business. "" The lawyer now looked so much stronger that it seemed the idea of being visited because he was ill had somehow made him weak, he remained supporting himself of one elbow, which must have been rather tiring, and continually pulled at a lock of hair in the middle of his beard.",The taxi stopped in front of a dark building.,1,0.55883867,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 Let our worthy ministers retire now for some rest so that we may count on your protection once again at night.” The various ministers obeyed; they selected two portrait painters, who made pictures of the two generals in their proper battle attire. I wish to have portraits made of both of them by a skilled painter and have these pasted on the door, so that the two generals will be spared any further labor. The two generals left after expressing their gratitude, and for the following two or three nights their standing guard brought continued peace. However, the royal appetite diminished and the illness became more severe. How about it?” Taizong, moreover, could not bear to see the two generals overworked. So once again he called Shubao, Jingde, the ministers Du and Fang into the palace, saying to them, “Though I got some rest these past two days, I have imposed on the two generals the hardship of staying up all night.","The Great Sage laughed and asked, “Am I invited?” The fairies replied that they did not know. The Great Sage said, “I am the Great Sage, Equal of Heaven. Why should I not have been invited among the honored guests?” “These are those who have been invited in the past. We do not know who are invited now,” replied the fairies.",0,0.54988235,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 What I’m trying to say is: it is a dream","If we had such a thing as “cum laude,” she would have passed with honors, she’s so smart.",0,0.5497615,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 Towards the end of the meal, when we were eating the figs, there was a knock at the door. It was Madame Gerbaud with her little one in her arms. My brother kissed the child on the forehead and borrowed fifteen sous that I had on me to give to Madame Gerbaud. The man did not pay much attention in the meantime. Poor old Gerbaud gone, my brother said grace, then he turned to this man and said to him: You must really need your bed. He no longer spoke and seemed very tired. Madame Magloire very quickly cleared the table. I understood we were supposed to retire to let this traveller sleep, and we both went upstairs. However, a moment later I sent Madame Magloire to take down for the man’s bed a roe-deer skin from the Black Forest that I have in my room. The nights are freezing and it keeps you warm. It’s a pity the skin is an old one, it’s losing all its fur. My brother bought it while he was in Germany, at Tottlingen, close to the source of the Danube, as well as the little ivory-handled knife I use at table.","We searched him all over: not a centime in his pockets, and there wasn’t one of his pockets that didn’t have holes in it.",0,0.54894555,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 20 I should observe that he could not abide anyone interfering with his possessions. Woe betide anyone who laid a finger on his books! Consider, then, my sense of horror when those books – large and small, of every imaginable format, size and thickness – came hurtling down from the shelf and went careering and fluttering under the table, under the chairs, all over the room. I would have made my escape, but it was too late. ‘I’m finished,’ I thought, ‘finished! It’s all up with me, I’m for it! I’m being silly and naughty like a child of ten years old: I’m just a stupid little girl! A big idiot!’ Pokrovsky flew into the most dreadful rage. ‘ Well, that’s all that was wanting!’ he cried. ‘Well, aren’t you ashamed to play silly pranks like this?… Won’t you ever learn any sense?’ And he rushed to pick up the books. I began to stoop down in order to help him. ‘Don’t, don’t!’ he cried. ‘You would do better not to go where you have not been invited.’ Then, however, slightly mollified by my submissive behaviour, he continued more quietly, in his customary teacher’s voice, taking advantage of his customary teacher’s authority: ‘Well, when are you going to learn some self-control and start to behave sensibly, for a change? I mean, just look at you , you’re not a child, you’re not a little girl any longer – you’re fifteen years old!’ And at this point, doubtless in an endeavour to make sure that I really was no longer a little girl, he cast a glance at me and blushed to the roots of his hair. At first, I did not understand; I stood in front of him, staring at him in amazement. He got up, approached me with an air of embarrassment, grew horribly confused, and started to speak: he was evidently apologizing for something, perhaps for only now having noticed that I was such a big girl. At last I understood. I can’t remember what happened to me then; I grew confused, flustered, blushed even deeper than Pokrovsky, covered my face with my hands and ran out of the room.",he cried.,1,0.56001204,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 “Of course, this was not the coming in which He had promised to appear in all His heavenly glory at the end of time and which would be as sudden as a bolt of lightning cutting the sky from east to west. No, He wanted to come only for a moment to visit His children and He chose to appear where the fires were crackling under the heretics. “In His infinite mercy He came among men in human form, just as He had walked among them fifteen centuries before. He came down to that sun-baked Southern city the day after nearly a hundred heretics had been burned all at once ad majorem gloriam Dei, in a resplendent auto-da-fé by the order of the Cardinal, the Grand Inquisitor, and in the presence of the King, the royal court, knights, beautiful ladies-in-waiting, and the entire population of Seville. “He came unobserved and moved about silently but, strangely enough, those who saw Him recognized Him at once. This might, perhaps, be the best part of my poem— I mean if I could explain what made them recognize Him . . . People are drawn to Him by an irresistible force, they gather around Him, follow Him, and soon there is a crowd. He walks among them in silence, a gentle smile of infinite compassion on His lips. The sun of love burns in His heart; light, understanding, and spiritual power flow from His eyes and set people’s hearts vibrating with love for Him. He holds His hands out to them, blesses them, and just from touching Him, or even His clothes, comes a healing power. An old man who has been blind from childhood suddenly cries out to Him: ‘Cure me, O Lord, so that I may see You too!’ And it is as if scales had fallen from his eyes, and the blind man sees Him. People weep and kiss the ground on which He walks. Children scatter flowers in His path and cry out to Him, ‘Hosannah!’ ‘It is He, He Himself!’ people keep saying. ‘Who else could it be!’ He stops on the steps of the cathedral of Seville at a moment when a small white coffin is carried into the church by weeping bearers. In it lies a girl of seven, the only daughter of a prominent man. She lies there amidst flowers. ‘He will raise your child from the dead!’ people shout to the weeping mother. The priest, who has come out of the cathedral to meet the procession, looks perplexed and frowns. But now the mother of the dead child throws herself at His feet, wailing, ‘If it is truly You, give me back my child!’ and she stretches out her hands to Him. The procession stops. They put the coffin down at His feet. He looks down with compassion, His lips form the words ‘Talitha cumi’—arise, maiden—and the maiden arises. The little girl sits up in her coffin, opens her little eyes, looks around in surprise, and smiles. She holds the white roses that had been placed in her hand when they had laid her in the coffin. There is confusion among the people, shouting and weeping . . . “Just at that moment, the Cardinal, the Grand Inquisitor himself, crosses the cathedral square. He is a man of almost ninety, tall and erect. His face is drawn, his eyes are sunken, but they still glow as though a spark smoldered in them. Oh, now he is not wearing his magnificent cardinal’s robes in which he paraded before the crowds the day before, when they were burning the enemies of the Roman Church; no, today he is wearing just the coarse cassock of an ordinary monk. He is followed by his grisly assistants, his slaves, his ‘holy guard.’ He sees the crowd gathered, stops, and watches from a distance. He sees everything: the placing of the coffin at His feet and the girl rising from it. His face darkens. He knits his thick white brows; his eyes flash with an ominous fire. He points his finger and orders his guards to seize Him. “The Grand Inquisitor’s power is so great and the people are so submissive and tremblingly obedient to him that they immediately open up a passage for the guards. A death-like silence descends upon the square and in that silence the guards lay hands on Him and lead Him away. “Then everyone in the crowd, to a man, prostrates himself before the Grand Inquisitor. The old man blesses them in silence and passes on. “The guards take their prisoner to an old building of the Holy Inquisition and lock Him up there in a dark, narrow, vaulted prison cell. The day declines and is replaced by the stifling, black Southern night of Seville. The air is fragrant with laurel and lemon. “Suddenly, in the complete darkness, the iron gate of the cell opens and there stands the Grand Inquisitor himself, holding a light in his hand. You?” He is alone, the door instantly locks again behind him. And in any case, what could you possibly say? I know only too well what you would say. At last he quietly goes up to Him, places the lamp on the table and says to Him: ‘ “Is it you? He pauses in the entrance and for a long time, a minute or two, studies His face. Receiving no answer, however, he quickly adds: “No, do not reply, keep silent. Besides, You have no right to add anything to what You said before. Why did You come here, to interfere and make things difficult for us? For You came to interfere—You know it. But shall I tell You what will happen tomorrow? Well, I do not know who You really are, nor do I want to know whether You are really He or just a likeness of Him, but no later than tomorrow I shall pronounce You the wickedest of all heretics and sentence You to be burned at the stake, and the very people who today were kissing Your feet will tomorrow, at a sign of my hand, hasten to Your stake to rake the coals. Don’t You know it? Oh yes, I suppose You do,’ he added, deeply immersed in thought, his eyes fixed for a moment on his prisoner.”","Everything disappeared in the dust of their gallopings, in the smoke of the conflagrations. Darkness fell, and the amazed people trembled, as they heard the fearful tornado which passed with thunder crashes. The hordes of Huns razed Europe, rushed toward Gaul, overran the plains of Chalons where Aetius pillaged it in an awful charge.",0,0.5487415,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 He lived, as it were, with his eyes downcast: he found it loathsome and unbearable to look. He and they regarded each other with distrust and hostility. It seemed as if he and they belonged to different nations. In general and most of all, he was surprised by the terrible and insuperable abyss that separated him from all these common people. He knew and understood the general reasons for such a separation; but he had never realized before that these reasons were in fact so profound and so powerful. In prison, in his surroundings, there was a great deal that he didn’t see, of course, and that he didn’t want to see. But in the end, a great deal began to surprise him, and he, as if unintentionally, began to notice things that he hadn’t even suspected before. In prison there were also exiled Poles, political criminals. They simply considered all these people to be ignoramuses and claps and despised them from above; but Raskolnikov could not look like that: he clearly saw that these ignoramuses were in many ways much smarter than these same Poles. There were also Russians, who also despised this people too much - one former officer and two seminarians; Raskolnikov clearly noticed their mistake.","I have the heart of a soldier rather than of a civilian, he used to say of himself. He had not even formed a definite idea of the fundamental principles of the reforms connected with the emancipation of the serfs, and only picked it up, so to speak, from year to year, involuntarily increasing his knowledge by practice. And yet he was himself a landowner. Pyotr Ilyitch knew for certain that he would meet some of Mihail Makarovitch's visitors there that evening, but he didn't know which. As it happened, at that moment the prosecutor, and Varvinsky, our district doctor, a young man, who had only just come to us from Petersburg after taking a brilliant degree at the Academy of Medicine, were playing whist at the police captain's. Ippolit Kirillovitch, the prosecutor (he was really the deputy prosecutor, but we always called him the prosecutor), was rather a peculiar man, of about five and thirty, inclined to be consumptive, and married to a fat and childless woman.",0,0.548341,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 Cacambo showed his host all his curiosity; the host said to him: “I am very ignorant, and I find myself well; but here we have an old man retired from the court, who is the most learned man in the kingdom, and the most communicative. Immediately he takes Cacambo to the old man. Candide now played only the second character, and accompanied his valet. They entered a very simple house, for the door was only silver, and the paneling of the apartments was only gold, but worked with such taste that the richest paneling did not efface it. If the truth must be told, the lobby was only decorated with rubies and emeralds; but the patterns in which they were arranged atoned for the extreme simplicity. ",had it been bent until it was broken?,0,0.54811424,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 Lemm was also excited. After the meal Lemm extracted from the rear pocket of his coat, where he had from time to time been putting his hand, a small rolled-up sheet of music and, pursing his lips, silently laid it on the piano. Yet he was not the only one to be excited that day: The long unfamiliar arrival of guests at Vasilyevskoye both alarmed and delighted the old man: it pleased him to see that people of such good standing knew his master. To the profound annoyance of Anton, who had put on white knitted gloves for the occasion, tea was poured for the lady visitor not by him but by Lavretsky’s hired man who had no understanding, in the old man’s words, of the proper order of things. He had put on a short tobacco-coloured swallow-tail coat and tied his neck-tie tightly round his neck, and he ceaselessly cleared his throat and made way for people with a pleasantly welcoming expression. She graciously smiled when Anton and Apraxia, in the old-fashioned house-serf style, kissed her hand, and in a limp voice, nasally, asked if she might have some tea. Lavretsky noted with satisfaction that the intimacy between him and Liza was continuing: as soon as she had entered the house she had amicably offered him her hand. However, he came into his own at lunch-time: with a firm step he took his place by Marya Dmitrievna’s chair and would not surrender his place to anyone.","She smiled affably when Anton and Apraksey, according to an old yard habit, approached her to the pen, and in a relaxed voice, through her nose, asked to drink tea. To the great annoyance of Anton, who was wearing knitted white gloves, it was not he who served tea to the visiting mistress, but Lavretsky's hired valet, who, according to the old man, did not understand any order. But Anton at dinner took his own: he stood with a firm foot behind Marya Dmitrievna's chair - and no longer gave up his place to anyone. The appearance of guests in Vasilievsky for a long time alarmed and delighted the old man: he was pleased to see that good gentlemen knew his master. However, he was not the only one who was worried that day: Lemm was worried too. He put on a short, tobacco-coloured tailcoat with a pointed ponytail, pulled his neckerchief tight, and cleared his throat incessantly and kept aloof with a pleasant and friendly air. Lavretsky noticed with pleasure that the rapprochement between him and Liza continued: as soon as she entered, she amiably extended her hand to him. After dinner, Lemm took from the back pocket of his tailcoat, into which he now and again put his hand, a small bundle of music paper, and, pursing his lips, silently placed it on the pianoforte.",1,0.56079394,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 Yes,' he answered; 'you ought to open a window-pane or open the door, for the air is not fresh here.' And what is my breath to them? You ask all the officers whether my breath is unclean.' Well,' I said, 'that's a matter of taste; but you are a little spitfire.' ' And you want keeping in your place,' says she. ' The dead smell worse still! ' And ever since then I had it in my mind. Not long ago I was sitting here as I am now, when I saw that very general come in who came here for Easter, and I asked him: 'Your Excellency,' said I, 'can a lady's breath be unpleasant?' ' And they all go on like that! But my breath,' says she, 'is clean, and yours is unclean.' ' You black sword,' said I, 'who asked you to teach me?' '","“Well,” I’d reply, “let people worship them as they choose to, but you’re a little pile, and you smell vile.” “And you,” she’d say, “ought to be kept in obedience.” “Oh, you blackened steel,” I’d say to her, “who have you come to give lessons to?” “I,” she’d say, “let in clean air, while you let in the foul.” “And right then,” I’d reply, “you go and ask any of the gentlemen officers whether my air’s clean or not.” And so from that time onward that’s preyed on my mind, and the other day I was sitting right here, as I am now, and lo and behold that very same general walked in, the one who came here at Holy Week: “Tell me, Your Excellency, is it done for a well-born lady to let in the air from outside?” “Yes,” he replied, “you ought to open a window or a door, because your air’s not fresh.” Well, and that’s what they all say! And why are they so interested in my air, anyway? A corpse would smell worse.",1,0.56089914,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 — Some people, let me tell you, are so touchy it ’s a horror,” continued Švejk, sinking into memories on impact again. “Once I was riding a streetcar from Vysocany into downtown Praha, and in the LibeH neighborhood some Mister Novotný hopped on. As soon as I recognized him I went to the front platform and started a conversation with him, saying that we’re both from Dražov. But he burst out hollering at me, telling me not to be bothering him, that he supposedly didn’t know me. I began explaining it to him, telling him to just remember, that as a little lad I used to come to him with my mother whose name was Antonie, that the father’s name was Prokop and he was a farmer. So I started telling him some details, just to convince him, and told him how there were two chaps named Novotny in our town, Tonda and Josef. And then he lifted his arm, and I dodged him, so that he smashed a large pane of glass in the tram, right close to the driver. But even then he still made out he didn't know me. And Josef, so they told me, had shot his wife because she kept grumbling at him for going on the booze. So they disembarked us, took us away, and at the Police Headquarters it became apparent that he had been so touchy because his name wasn’t Josef Novotný at all, but Eduard Doubrava, and he was from Montgomery in America and was here just visiting his relatives from among whose ancestors came his family.”",He stopped sadly at the door of a cabaret.,0,0.5478421,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 Then Albine and Serge passed on through a rank growth of peonies, reaching to their waists. The white flowers fell to pieces as they passed, with a rain of snowy petals which was as refreshing to their hands as the heavy drops of a thunder shower. And the red ones grinned with apoplectical faces which perturbed them. They reached, on the left, a field of fuchsias, a thicket of supple, slender shrubs, which delighted them like Japanese toys, adorned with a million bells. Then they went on through fields of purple veronicas and others of geraniums, blazing with all the fiery tints of a brasier, which the wind seemed to be ever fanning into fresh heat. And they forced their way through a jungle of gladioli, tall as reeds, which threw up spikes of flowers that gleamed in the full daylight with all the brilliance of burning torches. They lost themselves too in a forest of sunflowers, with stalks as thick as Albine's wrist, a forest darkened by rough leaves large enough to form an infant's bed, and peopled with giant starry faces that shone like so many suns. And thence they passed into another forest, a forest of rhododendrons so teeming with blossom that the branches and leaves were completely hidden, and nothing but huge nosegays, masses of soft calyces, could be seen as far as the eye could reach.","And just then, as if overcoming an obstacle, the wind dumped snow from the roof of the carriage, blew some torn-off sheet of iron about, and from ahead a low train whistle howled mournfully and drearily. All the terror of the blizzard seemed still more beautiful to her now. He had said the very thing that her soul desired but that her reason feared.",0,0.54778916,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 But we don't allow ourselves to be swept away by our knowledge or from our deliberation, but give the time the honor it deserves and don't rush anything - perhaps we even delay events because we see the moral shyness of young Hans Castorp share that had delayed the occurrence of these events for so long. Already at the first breakfast on Shrove Tuesday, which was there before you even caught sight of it from afar - early in the morning there were all sorts of joking wind instruments in the dining room, buzzing and tooting; at lunch streams of paper were already flying from the table of Gänsers, Rasmussens and Kleefeld, and several people, for example the round-eyed Marusja, wore paper headgear, which could also be bought from the limping man in the front of the box; but in the evening a festive sociability unfolded in the hall and in the conversation rooms, which in its course ... Only we know for the time being what, thanks to Hans Castorp's enterprising spirit, this carnival sociability led to in its course.","Already at breakfast on Mardi Gras morning—which was there before you had even got a good bead on it—already at breakfast, the dining hall was filled with the rattling and tootling of all sorts of toy instruments. By noon, streamers were already flying at the table where Gänser, Rasmussen, and Kleefeld sat, and several people—round-eyed Marusya for instance—were wearing paper hats, which were also on sale at the limping concierge’s desk in the lobby. And by evening both in the dining hall and the social rooms the festivities continued to grow until at one point . . . At this juncture we alone know to what these carnival festivities eventually led, thanks to Hans Castorp’s enterprising spirit. But we are not about to let our knowledge of what happened disrupt the deliberate pace of our narrative; instead, we shall give time the honor it is due and not rush into things—perhaps we shall even draw these events out a bit, for we share with young Hans Castorp the same moral scruples that for so long had kept him from precipitating such events.",1,0.56154543,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 Exactly what I was expecting! I knew you would answer so, so I asked. They are the most accomplished purity in two shoes, the most unassailable soul in the city. Everything is good and selfless with you, You are without spot and wrinkle. I would once put you to the test and hire you for payment to take over the paternity of a foreign child. Although you were poor and could very well need this money, you immediately turned down the offer. Your soul rebelled only at the mere thought of such an unclean trade and I came no way with you notwithstanding I even offered you two hundred kroner. Had I known what I know now , I would not have offended you so badly. I did not have a clear impression of you yet, but now I know that in front of you you have to track and hold your times at once. Well, that's good! Well, let’s go back to what we were talking about. It is quite like you to take your shoes off and dance barefoot, displaying your disregard for pain. They do not whine, They do not say like that: look I take my shoes off so as not to wear them , I have to, I am so poor! No, they seem, I must say, in silence. It is an established principle with you that you never call on anyone, you still achieve everything you want to achieve, but you have not opened your mouth yourself. You are absolutely invulnerable, both to other people and to yourself, in your own consciousness. I establish this trait in you and move on; They should not be impatient, I will come to the explanation at the end…. You once said something about Miss God that I have often thought about, You said that she might not be so completely inaccessible yet, when you behaved a little nicely, at least you had achieved a lot with her….","But let's continue with what we talked about…. The fact that you take off your shoes and dance barefoot, without making people aware of it, without realizing the pain of it and without complaining, is just a characteristic of you.",1,0.5616056,1
+"lexical = 80, order = 40 Courage, and forward! Citizens, where are we going? To science made government, to the force of things become the only public force, to natural law having its sanction and its penalty in itself and promulgating itself by evidence, to a dawning of truth corresponding to the dawning of day. We have tamed the hydra, and it is called the steamer; we have tamed the dragon, and it is called the locomotive; we are about to tame the griffin, we already have it, and it is called the ball. The day when this Promethean work will be finished and when man will have definitively harnessed to his will the ancient triple Chimera, the hydra, the dragon and the griffin , he will be master of water, fire and air, and he will be to the rest of animated creation what the old gods once were to him.","‘We have tamed the hydra, and it is called the steamer. We have tamed the dragon, and it is called the locomotive. We are on the verge of taming the griffin, it is already in our possession, and it is called the balloon. The day when this Promethean work is done and man has finally harnessed to his will the threefold chimera of antiquity – hydra, dragon and griffin – he will be master of water, fire and air, and he will be to the rest of living creation what the ancient gods once were to him. Courage, and ever onward! Citizens, what lies ahead of us? Science made the principle of government, force of circumstance become the sole police force, natural law having its own inherent sanction and penalty and promulgating itself by evidence, a dawning of truth corresponding to the dawning of day.",1,0.56187606,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 MAKAR ALEXYEVITCH What is the matter with you? It seems you have no fear of God! You are simply driving me out of my mind. Aren’t you ashamed? You will be your own ruin; you should at least think of your good name! You’re a man of honour, of gentlemanly feelings, of self-respect; well, when everyone finds out about you! Why, you will simply die of shame! Have you no pity for your grey hairs? Have you no fear of God? Fedora says she won’t help you again, and I won’t give you money either. What have you brought me to, Makar Alexyevitch? I suppose you think that it is nothing to me , your behaving so badly?You don’t know what I have to put up with on your account! I can’t even go down our staircase; everyone looks at me and points at me, and says such awful things; they say plainly that I have taken up with a drunkard. Think what it is to hear that! When you are brought in all the lodgers point at you with contempt: “Look,” they say, “they’ve brought that clerk in.” And I’m ready to faint with shame over you. I swear I shall move from here. I shall go somewhere as a housemaid or a laundrymaid, I shan’t stay here. I wrote to you to come and see me here but you did not come. So are my tears and entreaties nothing to you, Makar Alexyevitch? And where do you get the money? For God’s sake, do be careful. Why, you are ruining yourself, ruining yourself for nothing! And it’s a shame and a disgrace! The landlady would not let you in last night, you spent the night in the porch. I know all about it. If only you knew how miserable I was when I knew all about it. Come to see me; you will be happy with us; we will read together; we will recall the past. Fedora will tell us about her wanderings as a pilgrim. For my sake, don’t destroy yourself and me. Why, I only live for you, for your sake I am staying with you. And this is how you are behaving now! Be a fine man, steadfast in misfortune, remember that poverty is not a vice. And why despair? It is all temporary! Please God, it will all be set right, only you must restrain yourself now. I send you twenty kopecks. Buy yourself tobacco or anything you want, only for God’s sake don’t spend it on what’s harmful. Come and see us, be sure to come. Perhaps you will be ashamed as you were before, but don’t be ashamed; it’s false shame. If only you would show genuine penitence. Trust in God. He will do all things for the best.","Sew or read, or don’t sew if you like —it does not matter—only go on living with us or, only think yourself, why, what would it be like without you? ... Here, I will get you some books and then maybe we’ll go for a walk somewhere again. Only you must give over, my dearie, you must give over.",0,0.54691964,0
+"lexical = 100, order = 80 Father Mouret spent his days at the presbytery. He avoided the long walks he took before his illness. The scorched lands of the Artauds, the ardor of this valley where only twisted vines grew, worried him. Twice he had tried to go out in the morning to read his breviary along the roads; but he had not gone beyond the village, he had returned, disturbed by the smells, the full sun, the width of the horizon. Only in the evening, in the cool of nightfall, did he venture a few steps in front of the church, on the esplanade which stretched as far as the cemetery. In the afternoon, to occupy himself, seized by a need for activity which he did not know how to satisfy, he had given himself the task of gluing paper panes to the broken panes of the nave. This, for eight days, had kept him on a ladder, very attentive to fitting the panes neatly, cutting the paper with the delicacy of embroidery, spreading the glue so that there were no smudges. La Teuse stood at the foot of the ladder and watched him. Désirée shouted that it was necessary not to block up all the windows, so that the sparrows might enter; and, so as not to make her cry, the priest forgot two or three at each window. Then, this repair finished, the ambition had impelled him to embellish the church, without calling in either a mason, or a carpenter, or a painter. He would do everything himself. This manual work, he said, amused him, gave him strength. Uncle Pascal, each time he went to the cure, encouraged him, assuring him that this fatigue was worth more than all the drugs in the world. From then on, Abbé Mouret filled the holes in the walls with handfuls of plaster, nailed the altars back together with great blows of a hammer, crushed colors to give a layer to the pulpit and the confessional. It was an event in the country. They were talking about it two leagues away. Peasants came, hands behind their backs, to see the priest working. He, a blue apron tight at the waist, his wrists bruised, absorbed himself in this hard work, had a pretext not to go out any more. He lived his days in the middle of the plaster, calmer, almost smiling, forgetting the outside, the trees, the sun, the warm winds, which troubled him.",La Teuse watched at the foot of the ladder.,1,0.5622366,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 But they said that Zhao Yun and the five hundred troops lived in front of the East Mansion, and they had nothing to do all day long, and only went outside the city to shoot arrows and go horses. Look at the end of the year. Yunmeng Province: ""Kongming gave me three kits, and taught me that once I arrive in Nanxu, I will open the first one; I will stay until the end of the year, and I will open the second one; when there is no way out, I will open the third one: I have The elusive plan can keep the lord home. At this time, the age is coming to an end, and the lord is greedy for women and does not meet, why not open the second bag and follow the plan? "" Then he opened it and looked at it. It was so brilliant. Youri went to the palace and wanted to see Xuande. The maid reported, ""Zhao Zilong has an urgent matter to report to the noble."" Xuande called in and asked. Yun pretended to be surprised and said, ""My lord is living in the painting hall, and you don't want Jingzhou?"" Xuande said, ""What's so surprising?"" Yun said, ""This morning Kongming sent someone to report, saying that Cao Cao would report it. The hatred of the fierce soldiers in Chibi, 500,000 elite soldiers were sent to Jingzhou, and it was very urgent, please go back to the lord."" Xuande said: ""You must discuss with your wife."" Yun said, ""If you discuss with your wife, you will not be willing to teach me. The lord is back. Why don't you say, it's better to leave tonight. If you are late, it will be a mistake."" Xuande said: ""You should retreat for a while, I have a reason."" Yun deliberately forced him out several times. Xuande wept secretly when he saw Mrs. Sun. Mrs. Sun said: ""Why is my husband troubled?"" Xuande said: ""Nianbei is a wandering body, unable to serve his two relatives, and he can't worship the ancestors. Mrs. Sun said, ""Don't lie to me: I have already heard! Just now Zhao Zilong reported that Jingzhou is in danger, and you want to return it, so you put it aside."" Xuande knelt down and said, ""Madam, you know, be prepared. An dare to hide from each other? If you don’t want to go, you will make Jingzhou lose, and you will be ridiculed by the world; if you want to go, you can’t bear your wife: so you are troubled.” The wife said: “The concubine has already served the king, and the concubine should follow him.” Xuande said: ""Madam's heart, even so, Zheng Nai Guotai and Wu Hou An are willing to let Madam go? If Madam takes pity on Liu Bei, I will bid farewell for the time being."" Mrs. Sun advised: ""The husband is troubled. The concubine should tell the mother that she will let the concubine go with the king."" Xuande said: ""Even if the state is too willing, the Marquis of Wu will definitely block it."" So it is that on New Year’s Day AD 210 Sun Quan hosts a huge celebration. But we must keep this absolutely secret.’ What do you think?’ Kneeling before her, Xuande says emotionally, ‘If you will do this for me, I will never ever forget it, whether I am dead or alive. Then Lady Sun comes up with an idea: ‘When we go to offer the New Year sacrifices, I’ll say you wish to pay your respects to your ancestors, and that we’ll go to the river to do this. Then we can escape from there with no one watching. Lady Sun and Xuande enter and kowtow before the queen mother. Xuande tells Zhao Zilong to lead his men to the main road on New Year’s Day and be ready to leave. Mrs. Sun said: ""My husband thinks that the tombs of my parents and ancestors are in Zhuo County, and I feel sad day and night. Today, if I want to go to the riverside and look at the northern distance for sacrifice, I must tell my mother."" Guo Tai said: ""This is filial piety. No? Although you don’t know your uncle and aunt, you can go to worship with your husband, and you will also see the ceremony of being a wife.” Mrs. Sun and Xuande went out with thanks.","Mrs. Sun pondered for a long time, then said : ""When the concubine and Jun Zhengdan paid congratulations, they said that they would worship their ancestors by the riverside, and they left without telling me. What if?"" Xuande knelt down again and thanked: ""If this is the case, life and death will be unforgettable. Don't leak it. "" The two discussions have been settled. Xuande secretly called Zhao Yun to pay: ""On the day of Zhengdan, you should lead the sergeant out of the city first and wait on the official road. I push the sacrifice to the ancestors and go with the wife."" Yun Lingnuo. In the fifteenth year of Jian'an, on the first day of the first month of the year, the Marquis of Wu gathered in the hall. Xuande and Mrs. Sun went to worship Guotai.",1,0.5623117,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 ""My memoirs!"" he began, with redoubled pride and dignity. ""Write my memoirs? The idea has not tempted me. And yet, if you please, my memoirs have long been written, but they shall not see the light until dust returns to dust. Then, I doubt not, they will be translated into all languages, not of course on account of their actual literary merit, but because of the great events of which I was the actual witness, though but a child at the time. As a child, I was able to penetrate into the secrecy of the great man's private room. At night I heard the groans of this ""giant in misfortune"", he could not be ashamed to moan and cry in front of a child, although I already understood that the reason for his suffering was the silence of Emperor Alexander. ","At nights I have heard the groans and wailings of this 'giant in distress.' He could feel no shame in weeping before such a mere child as I was, though I understood even then that the reason for his suffering was the silence of the Emperor Alexander.""",1,0.5626572,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 “I know that you would all like a Bug, I heard everything, sir,” Kolya smiled mysteriously. “Listen, Karamazov, I’ll explain the whole matter to you, the main thing is that I came here, for this I called you to explain the whole passage to you before we enter,” he began briskly. - You see, Karamazov, in the spring Ilyusha enters the preparatory class. Well, we know, our preparatory class: boys, kids. Ilya was immediately bullied. I am two classes higher and, of course, I look from afar, from the side. I see the boy is small, weak, but does not obey, he even fights with them, proud, his little eyes are on fire. I love those. And they are worse than him. The main thing is that he then had a nasty dress, his pants climb up, and they ask for porridge for boots. They are his and for it. They humiliate. No, I really don't like that , I immediately interceded and asked an extrafefer. I beat them, and they adore me , do you know that, Karamazov? - Kolya boasted expansively. - And in general I love kids. I still have two chicks on my neck at home, even today I was detained. Thus, they stopped beating Ilya, and I took him under my protection. I see, a proud boy, I'm telling you that I'm proud, but I ended up giving myself up to me slavishly, fulfilling my slightest orders, listening to me as God, trying to imitate me. In the intervals between classes, now to me, and we go with him. and he'd refuse to agree with me; he'd argue, fly into a rage. I used sometimes to propound certain ideas; I could see that it was not so much that he disagreed with the ideas, but that he was simply rebelling against me, because I was cool in responding to his endearments. Why shouldn't I develop him if I like him? They always laugh when an older boy makes friends with a younger one like that; but that's a prejudice. There were contradictions in him, too: he was proud, but he was slavishly devoted to me, and yet all at once his eyes would flash Let us get to the point, though. I noticed that there was a sort of softness and sentimentality coming over the boy, and you know I have a positive hatred of this sheepish sentimentality, and I have had it from a baby. I am teaching him, developing him. I see you want to influence the younger generation--to develop them, to be of use to them, and I assure you this trait in your character, which I knew by hearsay, attracted me more than anything. Here you, Karamazov, have taken up with all these nestlings. On Sundays, too. If it's my fancy, that's enough. And so, in order to withstand him, the more tender he is, the more calm I become , I do this on purpose, this is my conviction. I meant to educate character, align, create a person ... well, there ... you, of course, understand me perfectly. Suddenly I notice that he is a day, two, three, embarrassed, grieving, but not about tenderness, but about something else, the strongest, the highest. Think what a tragedy? I step on him and find out the thing: somehow he got along with the footman of your late father (who was then still alive) Smerdyakov, and he, you fool, teach him a stupid joke, that is, a brutal joke, a vile joke - to take a piece of bread , crumb, stick a pin into it and throw it to some yard dog, one of those who, out of hunger, swallow a piece without chewing, and see what happens. So they made such a piece and threw it to this very shaggy Beetle, about whom there is such a story now, to one yard dog from such a yard where she was simply not fed, and she barks in the wind all day. (Do you love this stupid barking, Karamazov? I can't stand it.) So she rushed, swallowed and screamed, turned and started to run, runs and everything squeals, and disappeared - this is how Ilyusha himself described to me. He confesses to me, and he cries and cries, hugs me, shakes: "" He runs and screams, runs and screams"" - only this he repeats, this picture amazed him. Well, I see, remorse. I took it seriously. Most importantly, I wanted to whip him for the past, so, I confess, I cheated here, pretended that in such indignation, which, perhaps, I did not have at all: “You, I say, did a low deed , you are a scoundrel, I, of course, will not divulge, but for now I am breaking off relations with you. I'll think it over and let you know through Smurov (this very boy who has now come with me and who has always been devoted to me) : will I continue my relationship with you in the future, or will I leave you forever, like a scoundrel. "" This struck him terribly. I confess that at the same time I felt that, perhaps, I was too harsh, but what to do, that was my then thought. A day later I send Smurov to him and convey through him that I no longer “speak to him,” that is, this is what we call it when two comrades break off relations. The secret is that I wanted to keep him on the ferbant for only a few days, and there, seeing my repentance, I again stretch out my hand to him. This was my firm intention. But what do you think: he listened to Smurov, and suddenly his eyes sparkled. ""Tell Krasotkin from me,"" he shouted, that I will now throw pieces with pins to all the dogs, everyone, everyone! "" - “And, I think, a free smell has started, it must be smoked,” - and began to show him complete contempt, at every meeting I turn away or ironically smile. And suddenly this incident happens with his father, remember, a washcloth? Understand that he was already prepared in this way to a terrible annoyance. The boys, seeing that I left him, pounced on him, tease: ""Washcloth, washcloth. "" It was then that their battles began, which I am terribly sorry about, because it seems that he was very painfully beaten then. Once he throws himself at everyone in the yard, when they left the classrooms, and I just stand ten paces away and look at him. And I swear, I don’t remember that I laughed then, on the contrary, then I felt very, very sorry for him, and another moment, and I would have rushed to defend him. But he suddenly met my gaze: I don’t know what it seemed to him, but he grabbed his penknife, rushed at me and poked it in my thigh, right here, at my right foot. I did not move, I confess I am sometimes brave, Karamazov , I just looked with contempt, as if saying with a glance: ""Would you like, they say, more, for all my friendship, so I'm at your service."" But he didn’t stab another time, he couldn’t stand it, he got scared himself, dropped the knife, cried aloud and started to run. Of course, I didn’t fiscal and ordered everyone to be silent so that it wouldn’t come to the authorities, I even told my mother only when everything healed, and the wound was empty, a scratch. Then I hear that on the same day he threw stones and bit your finger - but, you know, in what condition he was! Well, what can I do , I did a stupid thing: when he fell ill, I did not go to forgive him, that is, to make up, now I repent. But then I had special goals. Well, that's the whole story ... only it seems I did something stupid ...","I'll sell it under the corridor first, and I'll give it to you.",0,0.54576993,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 Such was literally the conversation of the surgeon, the host, and the hostess: but what other color could I not have given him, by introducing a scoundrel among these good people? Jacques would have seen himself, or you would have seen Jacques at the moment of being torn from his bed, thrown on a highway or in a bog. - Why not killed? – Killed, no. I should have known how to call someone to help him; that someone would have been a soldier of his company: but that would have stank of the Cleveland to infect. The truth, the truth! – The truth, you will tell me, is often cold, common and flat; for example, your last account of Jacques' bandage is true, but what is interesting? Nothing. - OK. – If it must be true, it is like Molière, Regnard, Richardson, Sedaine; the truth has its piquant sides, which one grasps when one has genius. – Yes, when one has genius; but when we lack? – When you don't have enough, you shouldn't write. "" And if by misfortune we resemble a certain poet whom I sent to Pondicherry?"" ""Who is this poet?"" – This poet… But if you interrupt me, reader, and if I interrupt myself all the time, what will become of Jacques’ loves? Believe me, let's leave the poet there... The host and the hostess walked away... - No, no, the story of the poet of Pondicherry. – The surgeon approached Jacques’ bed… – The story of the poet of Pondicherry, the story of the poet of Pondicherry. – One day, a young poet came to me, as it happens to me every day… But, reader, what does this have to do with the journey of Jacques le Fataliste and his master?… – The story of the poet from Pondicherry. – After the usual compliments on my wit, my genius, my taste, my benevolence, and other remarks of which I do not believe a word, although they have been repeated to me for more than twenty years and perhaps good faith, the young poet takes a piece of paper from his pocket: they are verses, he tells me. - Worms ! “ Yes, sir, and on which I hope you will be good enough to tell me your opinion. – Do you like the truth? - Yes sir ; and I ask you. - You will find out. - What ! you are stupid enough to believe that a poet comes to seek the truth at home? - Yes. ""And to tell him?"" - Certainly ! - Unceremoniously ? – Doubtless: the best prepared consideration would only be a gross offence; faithfully interpreted, it would mean: you are a bad poet; and as I don't believe you are strong enough to hear the truth, you are still only a flat man. ‘Almost always…’ I read my young poet’s odes and told him: ‘Not only is your poetry bad but it is evident that you’ll never write any good poetry.’ ‘And has honesty always worked for you?’ ‘Then I must write bad poetry because I can’t stop myself from writing.’ ‘That’s a terrible affliction. Do you conceive, sir, into what degradation you are going to fall? Neither the gods, nor men, nor columns have forgiven poets mediocrity: it was Horace who said so. - I know it. – Are you rich? - Nope. – Are you poor? - Very poor. – And you will add to poverty the ridiculousness of a bad poet; you will have lost your whole life; you will be old. Old, poor and bad poet, ah! sir, what a role! – I understand it, but I am dragged in spite of myself… (Here Jacques would have said: But that is written up there.) – Do you have parents? - I do not have. – What is their condition? – They are jewelers. "" Would they do something for you?"" - Perhaps. - Well ! see your parents, offer them a piece of jewelry. Embark for Pondicherry; you will make bad verses on the road; arrived, you will make a fortune. Your fortune made, you will come back here to write as many bad verses as you please, provided you do not have them printed, for you must not ruin anyone… It was about twelve years since I had given this advice to the young man , when he appeared to me; I didn't recognize him. It was I, sir, he said, you sent to Pondicherry. I was there, I amassed there a hundred thousand francs. I returned ; I went back to writing verses, and here I am bringing you some… Are they still bad? - Still ; but your fate is arranged, and I consent to your continuing to write bad verses. ""It's my project...""","And the franchise has always been successful for you? – Almost always… I read the verses of my young poet, and I say to him: Not only are your verses bad, but it has been shown to me that you will never write good ones. “So I will have to make bad ones; because I can't stop myself from doing it. “Here is a terrible curse!",1,0.5633179,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 Once again Rabelais applies to Christ the title the Most-good, Most-great God, the old title of Jupiter definitively adopted by Christians for God the Father. That is arresting: it normally does not apply to the Son. Cf. the introduction to the Prologue to this Fourth Book.] ‘Epitherses, the father of Aemilian the rhetorician, was sailing from Greece to Italy on a boat conveying a variety of merchandise and several passengers, when, the wind having dropped one evening near the Echinades – which are islands between the Morea and Tunis – their vessel was carried close to Paxos. Having reached the coast (with some of the passengers asleep, others awake, others drinking and dining) from the isle of Paxos there was heard a voice of someone loudly crying, Thamous. At which cry all were struck with terror. Thamous was their pilot; he hailed from Egypt but was not known by name except to a few of the passengers. That voice was heard a second time, calling with a terrifying cry for Thamous. No one answered; all remained silent and deeply perturbed, so the voice was heard a third time, more terrifying than before. To which Thamous did indeed reply: “Here I am. What wilt thou have me do? Then the Voice louder than before, bad him publish when he should come to Paloda, That the Great God Pan was dead. What do’st thou call me for? Epitherses said that all the seamen and passengers were struck with awe upon hearing those words and were deeply afraid. As they were discussing amongst themselves whether it would be better to suppress what they had been ordered to publish or to announce it, Thamous counselled that if they had a stiff wind astern they should sail straight by without saying a word, but it the sea were calm, to announce what they had heard. ‘Now when they were off Palodes they chanced upon neither wind nor current, so Thamous mounted on to the prow and casting his gaze shorewards, cried as he had been commanded to: that the great Pan was dead. He had not finished the last word when there were heard great sighs, great lamentations and tumultuous cries from the land, not of one solitary person but of many together. ‘News of this soon spread throughout Rome (since many people had been present). Tiberius Caesar, then the Emperor of Rome, sent for that Thamous and, once he had heard what he had to say, believed him. Upon inquiring from the many learned scholars then in his Court and throughout Rome who that Pan was, he discovered from their reports that he was the son of Mercury and Penelope. So had Herodotus written some time before, and Cicero too in the Third Book of On the Nature of the Gods. ‘ However, I would interpret Pan as alluding to that Great Servator of the faithful, who was shamefully put to death in Judaea through the envy and iniquity of the Pontiffs, doctors, priests and monks of the Mosaic Law. That interpretation does not seem to me to be incompatible, for in Greek he can rightly be called Pan, seeing that he is our All, all that we are, all that we live, all that we have, all chat we hope, is in him, of him, by him. He is the Good Pan, that Great Shepherd who (as attested by the passionate shepherd Corydon) not only loves and cherishes His lambs but also his shepherds. At whose death were heard plaints, sighs, tumultuous cries and lamentations throughout the entire machine of the Universe: Heaven, earth, sea and Hell. The date is compatible with my interpretation, for that Most-good, Most-great Pan, our Only Servator, died near Jerusalem during the reign in Rome of Tiberius Caesar.’","His indifference loved. His mind could get along without belief, but his heart could not get along without friendship. A profound contradiction; for an affection is a conviction. His nature was thus constituted. There are men who seem to be born to be the reverse, the obverse, the wrong side.",0,0.54540676,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 And behold, there sat a girl in a chaise-longue whom I scarcely recognized, so gaily did she look up, such brightness emanated from her. She was wearing a dress of pale blue silk which made her look more girlish, more childish than ever. In her auburn hair gleamed white blossoms — were they myrtle? — and arranged round her chair were baskets of flowers, a gaily coloured hedge. (I wondered who had given them to her). She must have known for some time that I was in the house; no doubt, as she waited, she had heard the cheerful greetings and my approaching footsteps. She was sitting relaxed and erect in her chair, and today I quite forgot that the rug on her lap concealed an infirmity, and the easy chair was really her dungeon, for I was so amazed by this new girlish creature. But today there was none of that nervously probing, watchful expression in her eyes, the look that had recently been turned distrustfully on me from under her lowered lids when I came in. She seemed more childlike in her joy, but more womanly in her beauty. She noticed my faint astonishment and accepted it as a gift.","She must long since have known that I was in the house, and had doubtless heard the delighted greetings of the others and my approaching footsteps. But this time there was no sign as I entered the room of that restless, inquisitorial gaze which was usually directed at me out of half-closed, suspicious lids. She sat there graceful and upright; and now I completely forgot that the rug concealed a deformity, and that the deep chaise-longue was actually her prison. I could do nothing but marvel at this new girlish creature, who seemed more childish than ever in her joy, yet more womanly in her beauty.",1,0.5634981,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 “My dear Rodya,” his mother wrote. “It’s been more than two months since I’ve written you a letter, as a result of which I’ve suffered, at times even lost sleep, wondering about you. But most likely you won’t blame me for my unintended silence. You know how I love you; you’re all we have, Dunya and I, you mean everything to us, all our hope, all our aspiration. I was so upset when I learned that you’d left the university several months ago because you were unable to support yourself, and that your lessons and other sources had ended! How could I help you with my pension of only one hundred and twenty rubles a year? As you well know, I’d borrowed those fifteen rubles I sent you four months ago from our local merchant Afanasy Ivanovich Vakhrushin, on the promise of my pension. He’s a good man and was your father’s acquaintance. But in giving him the right to receive my pension for me, I was obliged to wait until I repaid my debt, and that’s only just happened, so all this time I haven’t been able to send you anything. But now, thank God, it seems I can send you some more; in general, we can even boast of good fortune now about which I hasten to inform you. In the first place, could you guess, dear Rodya, that your dear sister has been living with me for the last month and a half, and we’ll no longer be separated in the future. Praise the Lord, her torments have ended, but I’ll tell you everything in order, so you’ll know what’s happened and what we’ve been keeping from you up to now. When you wrote to me about two months ago that you’d heard from someone or other that Dunya had to endure much rudeness in Mr. Svidrigaylov’s house and you asked me for a more detailed explanation —what could I write to you at that time? If I’d told you the whole truth, you’d probably have dropped everything and rushed to see us, even come on foot, because I know your character and your feelings, and you wouldn’t have allowed your sister to be insulted. I myself was in despair, but what could I do? Even I didn’t know the whole truth then. The main difficulty was that Dunya, who’d entered their household last year as a governess, had received an advance of one hundred rubles, on the condition that a certain amount would be deducted from her salary each month; therefore, she couldn’t leave her position until she’d repaid her debt. This amount (I can now explain it all to you, precious Rodya) she’d accepted mostly so she could send you sixty rubles, which you needed then and which you received from us last year. At the time we deceived you, writing that it had come from Dunya’s savings, but that wasn’t so. Now I’m telling you the whole truth because everything’s suddenly changed, by the will of God, for the better, and so you’ll know how much Dunya loves you and what a precious heart she has. As a matter of fact, right from the start Mr. Svidrigaylov treated her very rudely and made various impolite remarks and insults to her at the table. . . . But I don’t want to dwell on these agonizing difficulties and upset you for no reason, since all of that’s stopped. In brief, in spite of the kind and generous treatment by Marfa Petrovna, Mr. Svidrigaylov’s wife, and all the servants, Dunechka had a very difficult time, especially when Mr. Svidrigaylov, following old regimental custom, was under the influence of Bacchus. But what happened afterward? Just imagine that this madman had conceived a passion for Dunya sometime earlier, but had been concealing it under the guise of rudeness and contempt for her. Perhaps he himself was ashamed and horrified to see that he himself, at his age and as the father of a family, harbored such frivolous hopes; therefore, he inadvertently took his anger out on Dunya. Perhaps by his rude treatment and mockery he wanted to hide the whole truth from other people. But, in the end, he couldn’t restrain himself and dared make an open and vile proposition to Dunya, promising her various rewards; moreover, he said he would forsake everything and go to another village with her or, perhaps, even abroad. You can imagine her suffering! It was impossible for her to leave her position at that time, not only because of her financial obligation, but because she wanted to spare Marfa Petrovna, who might suddenly conceive a hatred for her, and consequently arouse discord in the household. It would create a huge scandal for Dunechka; she’d never be able to escape it. There were many other reasons why Dunya couldn’t consider removing herself from this horrible house earlier than six weeks. Of course, you know Dunya , you know how clever she is and what a strong character she has. She can tolerate many things and find so much generosity within herself even in the most extreme circumstances, so as not to lose her strength. She didn’t even write to me about all this so as not to upset me, though we often exchanged news. The finale was unexpected. Marfa Petrovna accidentally overheard her husband imploring Dunechka in the garden. Misinterpreting the whole affair, she blamed Dunya for everything, thinking that she was the cause of it all. It occasioned a terrible scene right there in the garden: Marfa Petrovna even struck her, and didn’t want to listen to reason. She shouted for a whole hour and finally ordered that Dunya be sent back to me in town on a simple peasant’s cart, onto which they tossed all her things, linens, dresses, in any which way, untied and unpacked. Then it began to pour down rain; Dunya, insulted and disgraced, had to make the trip, all eleven miles, with a peasant in an open cart. Now just imagine, how and what could I write in reply to your letter that I’d received two months ago? I myself was in despair. I dared not tell you the truth because you’d be so unhappy, bitter, and angry. And what could you do? You might have gotten yourself into trouble; besides, Dunya wouldn’t allow it. I couldn’t just fill my letter with nonsense about this and that, when I felt such sorrow in my soul. Rumors about this episode circulated through the whole town for an entire month, and it reached the point where Dunya and I couldn’t even go to church because of all the contemptuous looks and whispers. Remarks were even uttered aloud in our presence. All of our acquaintances shunned us, and everyone stopped greeting us. I learned for certain that some merchants’ shop assistants and some office clerks wanted to insult us in the worst possible way by tarring the gates of our house so that the landlord would demand that we vacate our apartment. The cause of all this was Marfa Petrovna, who’d managed to denounce and slander Dunya in every household. She was acquainted with everyone in town, and during that month she visited town continually. She’s somewhat talkative and loves to go on about family matters, especially complaining about her husband to each and every person, which is not a good thing; so she spread the whole story in a very short time, not only in town, but throughout the district. I fell ill, but Dunya was stronger than I was; if you’d only seen how she endured it all and how she consoled and reassured me! She’s an angel! But, by God’s grace, our torments ended. Mr. Svidrigaylov thought better of it, repented, probably taking pity on Dunya, and presented to Marfa Petrovna clear and complete evidence of Dunya’s innocence, namely this: a letter that Dunya had felt compelled to write and convey to him, even before Marfa Petrovna came upon them in the garden, one that remained in his possession after Dunya’s departure. The note asked him to cease these personal declarations and secret meetings that he’d insisted on. In this letter she reproached him in the most impassioned way and with total indignation for his dishonorable treatment of Marfa Petrovna. She reminded him that he was a father and the head of a household, and, finally, she said how vile it was for him to torment and distress a young woman who was already in distress and defenseless. In a word, dear Rodya, this letter was so nobly and poignantly written that I sobbed while reading it and to this day can’t do so without shedding tears. Contributing to Dunya’s exoneration came the testimony of those servants who saw and knew much more than Mr. Svidrigaylov supposed, as always happens. Marfa Petrovna was completely astounded and ‘once again crushed,’ as she herself acknowledged; on the other hand, she was fully convinced of Dunechka’s innocence. The very next day, Sunday, heading directly to church, she tearfully implored Our Lady to give her the strength to bear this new ordeal and carry out her duty. Then, right after church, without making any stops, she came to us and told us everything. She wept bitterly and, with full repentance, embraced Dunya and begged her forgiveness. That same morning, without tarrying, she set off right from our house to all the households in town, and in each one, shedding tears, she restored Dunya’s innocence and the nobility of her feelings and behavior in the most flattering terms. She showed everyone Dunechka’s handwritten letter to Mr. Svidrigaylov, read it aloud, and even allowed people to make copies of it (which, it seems to me, was going too far). In this way it took her several days to visit everyone in town, so that some people felt offended that she was partial to others. Lines were formed since she was expected in advance at every household and everyone knew that on such and such a day Marfa Petrovna would read the letter there. At each reading, people would line up who’d already heard the letter read several times in their own homes and in those of their other acquaintances. In my opinion, much of this, very much, was unnecessary; but such was Marfa Petrovna’s character. At least she fully restored Dunechka’s honor. All the vileness of this affair left an indelible disgrace on her husband as the main culprit, so that I even began to feel sorry for him. People dealt too severely with that madman. Soon Dunya was invited to give lessons in several households, but she refused. All that was particularly helpful in bringing about the unexpected event which has now, as we may say, transformed our whole destiny. And generally everyone started to treat her with special respect. You should know, dear Rodya, that a suitor has proposed to Dunya and she’s already given her consent, which I’m writing to inform you about immediately. Even though this matter was conducted without your advice, you probably won’t bear any grudge either against me or your sister, since you yourself will see, from the facts, that it was impossible to delay or wait for your answer to arrive. Besides, you yourself couldn’t have judged it accurately without being here. This is how it happened. He’s already a court councillor, this Petr Petrovich Luzhin, a distant relative of Marfa Petrovna’s, who herself helped a great deal in this affair. It all began with his expressing a desire through her that he wished to make our acquaintance; he was received properly, had some coffee, and the next day sent a letter in which he very politely stated his proposal and asked for a swift and definitive answer. He’s a practical, busy man, just about to leave for Petersburg, so he values every minute. Of course, at first we were very surprised, since all this took place so swiftly and unexpectedly. All that day we pondered and considered it together. He’s a reliable, well-to-do person, works in two places, and has already amassed some capital. It’s true that he’s forty-five, but he has a rather pleasant appearance and can still be attractive to women; he’s also an extremely solid and decent man, only a little gloomy and a bit arrogant. But perhaps it only seems that way, at first glance. I advise you, dear Rodya, when you meet him in Petersburg, which will happen quite soon, not to judge him too quickly and heatedly, as you sometimes do, if at first glance you think something about him is not quite right. I say this just in case, although I’m sure that he’ll make a pleasant impression on you. Besides, in order to determine what sort of person he is, one must deal with him gradually and carefully, so as not to fall into error or prejudice, which is difficult to correct or smooth over afterward. And Petr Petrovich, at least from many indications, is an extremely respectable man. On his first visit, he stated that he was a positive person; he shares to a large extent, as he himself explained it, ‘the convictions of our younger generation,’ and he is an enemy of all prejudices. He said a great many other things because he seems a bit vain and very much likes to be listened to, but that’s almost not a fault. Of course, I understood very little, but Dunya explained to me that although he is not a well-educated man, he is clever and, it seems, kind. You know your sister’s character, Rodya. She’s a strong young woman, sensible, patient, and generous, although she has an impassioned heart, as I’ve come to know well. Of course, there’s no particular love involved, either on her side or on his, but Dunya, in addition to being a clever young woman, is also a lofty creature—an angel. She’ll consider it her duty to make her husband happy, and he, in turn, will concern himself with his wife’s happiness, which, for the time being, we have no major reason to doubt, even though, I must admit, this whole affair was concluded rather quickly. Besides, he’s a very prudent man and of course will realize that his own conjugal happiness will be more assured the happier Dunechka is with him. As for the fact that there are some irregularities in his character, some old habits, even some disagreement in their views (which can’t be avoided even in the happiest of marriages), on that count Dunechka told me that she’s relying on herself and there’s no reason to be concerned, that she can tolerate a great deal on the condition that their future relations will be fair and honest. For example, he seemed a bit harsh to me at first; but that could be precisely because he’s such a straightforward man, and it’s absolutely so. For example, during his second visit, after he’d already received her consent, he expressed in our conversation that previously, even before he knew Dunya, he’d intended to marry an honest young woman, but one without a dowry, and certainly one who’d already experienced poverty; because, as he explained, a husband should in no way be obligated to his wife, and that it’s much better if the wife considers her husband to be her benefactor. I’ll add that he expressed himself a little more gently and affectionately than I described, but I’ve forgotten his exact words, and recall only the idea; besides, he said it without any premeditation. Obviously it just slipped out in the heat of conversation, so that afterward he even tried to correct himself and soften it. But it still seemed somewhat harsh to me, and I conveyed this to Dunya later. But she replied, even somewhat annoyed, that ‘words are not the same as deeds,’ and of course that’s fair. Before deciding, Dunechka didn’t sleep the whole night; supposing that I was already asleep, she got out of bed and spent the whole night pacing back and forth in the room. Finally she knelt down and prayed fervently in front of the icon for a long time; in the morning, she announced to me that she’d made a decision.","In general, people suddenly began treating her with special respect. All of this served principally to further the unexpected circumstance by which, one can say, our entire fate is now being altered.",1,0.56355816,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 One day, amid all this success, the Handsome Monkey King suddenly said to the other monkeys, “You are now expert in the bow and crossbow, and highly skilled in other weapons; but this sword of mine is too clumsy for my liking. What shall I do about it?” The four veteran monkeys came forward and submitted a suggestion: “Your Majesty is an Immortal, so mortals' weapons are not good enough for you. We wonder if Your Majesty is able to travel underwater.” “Since hearing the Way,” Sun Wukong replied, “I have mastered the seventy-two earthly transformations. My somersault cloud has outstanding magical powers. I know how to conceal myself and vanish. I can ride through the air like lightning; I can make myself invisible; I can ascend to high Heaven or descend into the depths of the earth; I can walk in sunlight or moonlight without throwing a shadow; I can go through metals or stones; water cannot drown me, fire cannot burn me. The four elder monkeys said, “Since the Great King has all these magic powers, and the water under our iron bridge flows to the Dragon Palace of the Eastern Sea, if you are willing to go down that water in search of the Venerable Dragon King, and ask him for a weapon, you may get what you want.” The Seeker of Secrets rejoiced on hearing this and said, “I will go.” I am in possession of all these powers.” “Wait till I get back,” was Sun Wukong's delighted reply.","I can make spells and end them. I can reach the sky and find my way into the earth. I can travel under the sun or moon without leaving a shadow or go through metal or stone freely. I can't be drowned by water or burned by fire. There's nowhere I cannot go.” “If Your Majesty has these magical powers, the stream under our iron bridge leads to the Dragon palace of the Eastern Sea. If you are willing to go down there, go and find the Dragon King and ask him for whatever weapon it is you want. Wouldn't that suit you?”",1,0.5643086,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 So they thanked their liberator and went away. As soon as they reached their own camp, they told the whole story. Then Gao Ding sent a spy to the camp of Yong Kai to find out what was doing. There the spy met those who had been released, and they were all talking about Zhuge Liang's kindness, and many of them were inclined to desert their own camp for the other. Although this seemed very satisfactory, yet Gao Ding did not feel convinced, and he sent another man to Zhuge Liang's camp to try to verify the rumor. But this man was captured and taken before the Commander-in-Chief, who pretended that he thought the spy belonged to Yong Kai, and said to him, “Why has your leader failed to send me the heads of Gao Ding and Zhu Bao as he promised? Xi Zuo thanked him and left, returned to Gao Ding, and presented Kong Ming's book, saying Yong Kai is like this. You are not meticulous, how can you do meticulous work! ' the sergeant agreed vaguely. Fu Jun said: ""You hold this book to pay Yongkai, and tell him to start early, so he won't make a mistake."" When he finished reading the book, he was furious and said, ""I treat him with sincerity, but he wants to hurt me, which is hard to bear!"" Kong Ming presented him with food and wine, and a secret book. Then he decided to take E Huan into his confidence, and called him. E Huan was much prejudiced in favor of Zhuge Liang, and said, “Zhuge Liang is a most benevolent man, and it would be ill to turn our backs upon him. It is Yong Kai's fault that we are now rebels, and our best course would be to slay him and betake ourselves to Zhuge Liang.” “How could it be done?” asked Gao Ding. “Invite him to a banquet. If he refuses, it means he is a traitor, and then you can attack him in front while I will lie in wait behind his camp to capture him as he runs away.” They agreed to try this plan; the banquet was prepared and Yong Kai invited. But as Yong Kai's mind was full of suspicion from what his returned soldiers had said, he would not come. That night, as soon as darkness fell, Gao Ding attacked his camp. Now the soldiers who had been released were imbued with the goodness of Gao Ding all quite ready to help him fight. On the other hand, Yong Kai's troops mutinied against him, and so Yong Kai mounted his steed and fled. Before he had gone far, he found his road blocked by the cohort under E Huan, who galloped out with his halberd and confronted the fugitive. Yong Kai could not defend himself, and was struck down. E Huan decapitated him. As soon as they knew he was dead, his troops joined themselves to Gao Ding, who then went and surrendered to Zhuge Liang. Zhuge Liang received Gao Ding sitting in state in his tent, but at once ordered the lictors to decapitate Gao Ding. But Gao Ding said, “Influenced by your kindness, Sir, I have brought the head of my colleague as a proof of the sincerity of my surrender; why should I die?” “You come with false intent; do you think you can hoodwink me?” said Zhuge Liang, laughing. “What proof have you that I am false?” Zhuge Liang drew a letter from his box, and said, “Zhu Bao sent this secretly to say he wished to surrender, and he said you and Yong Kai were sworn friends to death. How could you suddenly change your feelings and slay him? That is how I know your treachery.” “Zhu Bao only tried to make trouble,” cried Gao Ding, kneeling. Zhuge Liang still refused to believe him, and said, “I cannot believe you without more solid proof. If you would slay Zhu Bao, I could take that as proving you were sincere in your surrender.” “Do not doubt me. What if I go and capture this man?” “If you did that, my doubts would be set at rest.”","‘How would I know?’ replied the brother. ‘I went out first thing to the Temple of the Green Emperor to fetch you. I shall have to go home and ask.’ Presently he returned to report that there had indeed been an old lady. ‘ She called first thing this morning, saying she wanted to work for us. My wife kept her on, and she is still there.’ ‘That's the very person we’re looking for!’ cried the Taoist.",0,0.544423,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 I worked. They have, in the country of Pontarlier, whither you are going, Monsieur Valjean, a truly patriarchal and truly charming industry, my sister. “‘Yes,’ resumed my brother; ‘but in ’93, one had no longer any relatives, one had only one’s arms. It is their cheese dairies that they call fruitières.","The next day, June 5th, she went to Courfeyrac’s to ask for Marius, not to give him the letter, but, a thing which every jealous and loving soul will understand, “to see.” There she waited for Marius, or, at least, for Courfeyrac—still to see. When Courfeyrac said to her: we are going to the barricades, an idea flashed across her mind. To throw herself into that death as she would have thrown herself into any other, and to push Marius into it.",0,0.5443248,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 ‘You can’t escape two sermons!’ he exclaimed. ‘This morning you had the priest’s, this evening you shall have your grandfather’s. Listen, I’m going to give you a piece of advice: adore each other. I’m not beating about the bush, I’m coming straight to the point: be happy. The only creatures of wisdom are turtle-doves. Philosophers say: “Moderate your joys.” I say: “Give free rein to your joys. Be fiendishly smitten. Be frantically in love.” The philosophers talk nonsense. I’d like to ram their philosophy down their throats. Can there be too many perfumes, too many rosebuds coming into bloom, too many nightingales singing, too many green leaves, can there be in life too much dawn light? Can lovers love each other too much? Can they be too attractive to each other? Beware, Estelle, you’re too pretty! Beware, Némorin, you’re too handsome! What an absurdity! Is it possible to be too enchanting, too beguiling, too charming towards each other? Is it possible to be too much alive? To be too happy? Moderate your joys? Nothing of the kind! Down with philosophers! Wisdom is rejoicing. Rejoice, and let us rejoice. Are we happy because we are good, or are we good because we are happy? Is the Sancy diamond called the Sancy because it belonged to Harlay de Sancy or because it weighs a hundred and six carats? What do I know? Life is full of such problems. The important thing is to have the Sancy, and to be happy. Let us be happy without quibbling. Let us blindly obey the sun. What is the sun? It’s love. Whoever says love, says woman. Ahah! Now there’s an almighty power: womankind. Ask that demagogue Marius if he’s not the slave of that little tyrant Cosette. And of his own free will, the craven fellow! Womankind! Regardless of any Robespierre, woman reigns. I’m no royalist any more, except as regards that particular royalty. What is Adam? The realm of Eve. No ’89 for Eve. There used to be the royal sceptre surmounted with a fleur-de-lys, there used to be the imperial sceptre surmounted with a globe, there used to be Charlemagne’s iron sceptre, there used to be Louis the Great’s gold sceptre – the revolution bent them between thumb and forefinger like worthless straws. Broken, done with, destroyed. No more sceptre. But go on, have a revolution against that little patchouli-scented embroidered handkerchief! I’d like to see it. Try! Why is it resistant? Because it’s just a piece of frippery. Ah, you’re the nineteenth century? Well, what of it? We were the eighteenth century. And we were as foolish as you are. Don’t imagine, because your killer of young men is called Cholera morbus and your bourrée is called the cachucha, that you’ve changed very much in the universe. Basically, women must always be loved. I defy you to find any way out of that. These she-devils are our angels. Yes, love, women, kisses, it’s a circle I defy you to escape. And as for myself, I should be only too happy to re-enter it. Which of you has seen the star Venus rising in the infinite, calming all beneath her, looking down on the waves like a woman, the great charmer of the abyss, the Célimène of the ocean? The ocean, now there’s a churlish Alceste. Well, grumble as he may, when Venus appears he can’t help but smile. That brute beast is tamed. We’re all like that. Anger, fury, thunderbolts, foam up to the ceiling. A woman comes on the scene, a star rises, and we’re grovelling! Marius was fighting six months ago. Today he’s getting married. Well done! Yes, Marius, yes, Cosette, you’re right. Be bold in existing for each other, caress each other, make us burst with rage that we can’t do likewise, idolize each other. Gather in your two beaks all the little wisps of happiness that there are on earth, and build yourselves a nest for life out of them. By God, to love, to be loved, the splendid miracle of being young! Don’t think you invented it. I’ve dreamed, I’ve imagined, I’ve sighed. I, too, have had a moonlight soul. Love is a child six thousand years old. Love is entitled to a long white beard. Methuselah is a youngster compared with Cupid. It is by being in love that, for sixty centuries, men and women have got by. The devil, who is cunning, started to hate man. Man, who is even more cunning, started to love woman. That’s how he’s done himself more good than the devil has done him harm. This clever tactic dates all the way back to the Garden of Eden. It’s an old trick, my friends, yet as new a find as ever. Take advantage of it. Be Daphnis and Chloe until you become Philemon and Baucis. See to it that when you are together you lack for nothing, and that Cosette is for Marius the sun, and Marius is for Cosette the universe. May fair weather, for you, Cosette, be your husband’s smile. May rain, for you, Marius, be your wife’s tears. And may it never rain in your household. You’ve landed the winning number in the lottery: love in matrimony. You’ve won the big prize, look after it well, keep it under lock and key , don’t squander it, adore each other, and never mind the rest. Believe what I’m telling you. It’s good sense. Good sense cannot lie. Be a religion to each other. ‘Every man has his own way of adoring God. Heavens above! the best way to adore God is to love your wife. “I love you!” That’s my catechism. Whoever loves is orthodox. Henri IV’s oath places sanctity between feasting and drunkenness. Ventre-saint-gris! * Mine is not the religion of that oath. Women have been left out. This amazes me in an oath coming from Henri IV. My friends, long live women! I’m old, so I’m told. It’s amazing how young I’m feeling right now. I would like to go and listen to bagpipes in the woods. These children who manage to be beautiful and happy, that intoxicates me. That, if you like it, is what we thought, the rest of us, in our time when we were young people. Ah! virtue-bamboche! What charming women there were at that time, and faces, and tendrons! I would marry beautifully if someone wanted to. It is impossible to imagine that God made us for anything other than this: to idolize, to coo, to adonize, to be a pigeon, to be a rooster, to peck at his loves from morning to night, to admire himself in his little wife, to be proud, to be triumphant. , to make crop; this is the purpose of life. I made my conquests among them. So love each other. Without love between each other, I really don’t see what point there would be in having spring, and I personally would ask the good Lord to pack up all the beautiful things he shows us and take them away, and put the flowers, the birds and the pretty girls back in his box. My children, this fond old man gives you his blessing.’","People go, but there is no time for them. Their hearts are made of stone; their words are cruel. "" Away! get out!",0,0.5440748,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 and I had to use all my power of self-control, as I replied, ""I hope this is all for the best, my Chief. Sometimes I wish we had not started it. Don't misunderstand me—my reasons are purely of a practical nature. It seems to me there already is enough dirt to poke in, more even than the State can afford. We already are working overtime. Well, perhaps this can be corrected as soon as we have instructed enough helpers. We can’t have two-thirds of the population doing penal labour!’ But what is to be done with all the new denunciations? ","I wondered if it was getting dull due to the illness, and as the days went by, lazy excretion became unintentional. Occasionally, the futon and mattresses were soiled, and the ones on the side brought eyebrows, but the person was rather calm. However, the amount of urine was extremely low due to the nature of the disease.",0,0.54398394,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 he asked. So the lawyer takes on ordinary legal business, does he?"" Probably, my trial's been going on much longer than that, it started soon after the death of my wife, and that's been more than five and a half years now. "" It's so hard to remember everything. K. moved in closer to him. ""","But now, however, the affair grows more complex, the torments of jealousy attain their highest degree, and still the same, the same two earlier questions appear ever more tormentingly, tormentingly within the inflamed brain of the defendant: “Shall I return the money to Katerina Ivanovna? With what means then will I take Grushenka away?” If he had been behaving like a madman so, getting drunk and raging about the inns all that month, then it was perhaps for the very reason that he himself was sick at heart, and it was more than he could endure. These two questions became in the end so aggravating that they finally drove him to despair. He made the effort of sending his younger brother to his father in order to ask him for the three thousand one last time but, not waiting for an answer, he himself burst in and ended by brutally beating the old man in front of witnesses. After that, consequently, there is no one from whom he may obtain money, his brutally beaten father will not give it. On the evening of that same day he beats himself upon the breast, upon that very upper part of his breast where the incense-bag is, and swears to his brother that he has the means not to be a scoundrel, but that he will none the less remain a scoundrel, for he can foresee that he will not take advantage of the means, has insufficient inward strength, insufficient character. Why, why does the prosecution not believe the testimony of Aleksey Karamazov, given so purely, so sincerely, so without preparation, so plausibly?",0,0.54387796,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 He fell asleep on the bench; but his mental disquiet continued through his slumbers. Just before he dozed off, the idea of Hippolyte murdering ten men flitted through his brain, and he smiled at the absurdity of such a thought. Around him all was quiet; only the flutter and whisper of the leaves broke the silence, but broke it only to cause it to appear yet more deep and still. He dreamed many dreams as he sat there, and all were full of disquiet, so that he shuddered every moment. At length a woman seemed to approach him. He knew her, oh! he knew her only too well. He could always name her and recognize her anywhere; but, strange, she seemed to have quite a different face from hers, as he had known it, and he felt a tormenting desire to be able to say she was not the same woman. In the face before him there was such dreadful remorse and horror that he thought she must be a criminal, that she must have just committed some awful crime. A tear trembled on her pale cheek; she beckoned him with her hand and put her finger to her lips, as if warning him to follow her more quietly. His heart sank; for nothing, for nothing, did he want to recognize her as a criminal; but he felt that at once something terrible would happen, for the rest of his life. He got up to follow her, and suddenly someone's bright, fresh laughter was heard near him; someone's hand suddenly found itself in his hand; he grabbed that hand, squeezed it tightly, and awoke. She seemed to want to show him something, not far away, in the park. Before him stood Aglaya, laughing aloud.","First, he stopped in front of the well, raised his eyes, looked at the cut cables: the bits of steel hung useless, the bite of the file had left a sharp wound, a fresh wound which gleamed in the black grease. . Then he climbed into the machine, gazed at its motionless connecting rod, like the joint of a colossal limb stricken with paralysis, touched the already cold metal, the cold of which gave him a shiver, as if he had touched a dead. Then he went down to the boilers, walked slowly in front of the extinguished, gaping and flooded hearths, stamped his foot on the generators which rang the vacuum. Lets go ! it was all over, his ruin was coming to an end. Even if he mended the cables, if he lit the fires again, where would he find men? Another fifteen days of strike, he was bankrupt. And, in this certainty of his disaster, he no longer had any hatred against the brigands of Montsou, he felt the complicity of all, a general, age-old fault. Brutes no doubt, but brutes who couldn't read and who were starving.",0,0.54386276,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 Her message now was that they should all calm down, stay cool and wait. But alas, the calm state of affairs did not last more than ten minutes. The first blow to the prescribed coolness was dealt by the news of what had happened while she was away on Kamenny Island. (Lizaveta Prokofyevna had departed on the morning after the Prince arrived – after twelve instead of at nine.) The sisters answered their mother’s persistent questions in great detail and assured her that nothing had in fact happened in her absence. The Prince had come; Aglaya had kept him waiting for about half an hour, and when she finally did appear, she immediately suggested to the Prince they should have a game of chess; the Prince was absolutely hopeless at chess and Aglaya thrashed him; this had cheered her up immensely and she had teased and laughed at the Prince cruelly for playing badly, reducing him to a sorry sight. She had then suggested a game of cards, fools. But now the tables were turned on her. The Prince proved himself a past master at this game; he played like… like a professional. Aglaya had resorted to all kinds of trickery, had cheated and stolen his tricks before his very eyes, and still he beat her every time; about five in a row. Aglaya had flown into a passion, forgetting herself completely; had mocked and taunted him so much so that the poor man had stopped laughing altogether, and had gone completely pale especially after she had said she’d never stay a minute longer in the room while he was sitting there, and that he had the cheek to turn up at their place in the middle of the night of all times – gone midnight – and this after all that had happened. She had then slammed the door and left. The prince left as if from a funeral, despite all their consolations. Suddenly, a quarter of an hour after the prince had left, Aglaya ran down to the terrace, and with such haste that she did not even wipe her eyes, and her eyes were weeping; she ran away because Kolya came and brought a hedgehog. They all began to look at the hedgehog; to their questions, Kolya explained that the hedgehog was not his, but that he was now walking along with a friend, another schoolboy, Kostya Lebedev, who had remained on the street and was ashamed to enter because he was carrying an ax; that they just bought a hedgehog and an ax from a peasant they met. The peasant had sold the hedgehog for fifty copecks, and they had then persuaded him to sell the axe, which was just right for them, and it was a pretty good axe. At this point Aglaya had begun to plead with Kolya for all she was worth to sell her the hedgehog at once, she even went so far as to call Kolya “my dear”. For a long time Kolya resisted giving in, but finally could stand it no longer and called for Kostya Lebedev, who came in with the axe and became very embarrassed. And suddenly it had transpired that the hedgehog didn’t belong to either of them, but to a third boy, Petrov, who had given them both some money to buy Schlosser’s * History, from yet another boy, which that boy, being in need of money, was selling at a bargain price; that they had gone fully intending to buy Schlosser’s History, but hadn’t been able to resist temptation and had bought the hedgehog instead, therefore it was plain that the axe and the hedgehog now belonged to that third boy and they were now taking them to him instead of Schlosser’s History. But Aglaya would not take no for an answer, so in the end they had given in and sold her the hedgehog. As soon as she had acquired the hedgehog, she at once with Kolya’s help put it in a wicker basket, covered it with a piece of cloth and began to plead with Kolya to take it to the Prince in her name as a token of her boundless respect. Kolya had gladly agreed and had given his word he’d deliver it, but had immediately demanded to know what the hedgehog signified and what sort of a present was that. Aglaya had told him to mind his own business. He’d replied that he was certain there was some kind of symbolism behind it. Aglaya had lost her temper and told him he was just a boy and nothing else, to which Kolya had immediately retorted that if it hadn’t been for the fact that he respected her as a woman, and moreover held his own principles high, he’d have immediately proved to her that he knew how to respond to such an insult. Be that as it may, he was in the event delighted to carry out the commission and went off to the Prince’s with the hedgehog, followed by Kostya Lebedev running at his heels. Aglaya, seeing that Kolya was swinging the basket too much, was unable to resist and called after him from the terrace, “Please, Kolya, my dear, don’t drop the hedgehog!” as though she had never spoken a harsh word to him. Kolya stopped and also called out as though he had never quarrelled with her either. “No, I shan’t drop it, Aglaya Ivanovna. Have no fear whatever!” and ran off at full pelt. Aglaya followed this with a hearty laugh and ran off to her room laughing. She remained in excellent spirits for the rest of the day.",It only seemed to Napoleon that the whole thing was happening according to his will.,0,0.54383254,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 Immediately after his first greetings -- he had no time to sit down in the chair which K. offered him -- he begged K. to have a short talk with him in strict privacy. ""It is necessary,"" he said, painfully gulping, ""it is necessary for my peace of mind."" K. at once sent his clerks out of the room with instructions to admit no one. ""What is this I hear, Joseph?"" cried his uncle when they were alone, sitting down on the desk and making himself comfortable by stuffing several papers under him without looking at them. K. said nothing, he knew what was coming, but being suddenly released from the strain of exacting work, he resigned himself for the moment to a pleasant sense of indolence and gazed out through the window at the opposite side of the street, of which only a small triangular section could be seen from where he was sitting, a slice of empty house-wall between two shop windows. ""You sit there staring out of the window!"" cried his uncle, flinging up his arms. "" For God's sake, Joseph, answer me. Is it true? Can it be true?"" ""Dear Uncle,"" said K., tearing himself out of his reverie. ""I don't know in the least what you mean."" ""Joseph,"" said his uncle warningly, ""you've always told the truth, as far as I know. Am I to take these words of yours as a bad sign?"" ""I can guess, certainly, what you're after,"" said K. accommodatingly. ""You've probably heard something about my trial."" I can read you the passage that concerns you.” “Erna wrote to me about it,” said his uncle, “she doesn’t see anything of you of course, you don’t take any real interest in her, sadly enough, but she found out about it anyway. I received her letter today and of course came here immediately. For no other reason, since this seemed reason enough. “That’s right,” said his uncle, nodding slowly, “I’ve heard about your trial.” “From whom?” K. asked. He took the letter from his pocketbook. "" Here it is. She writes: `I haven't seen Joseph for a long time, last week I called at the Bank, but Joseph was so busy that I couldn't see him ; I waited for almost an hour, but I had to leave then, for I had a piano lesson. I should have liked very much to speak to him, perhaps I shall soon have the chance. He sent me a great big box of chocolates for my birthday, it was very sweet and thoughtful of him. I forgot to write and mention it at the time, and it was only your asking that reminded me. For I may tell you that chocolate vanishes on the spot in this boardingschool, hardly do you realize that you've been presented with a box when it's gone. But about Joseph, there is something else that I feel I should tell you. As I said, I was not able to see him at the Bank because he was engaged with a gentleman. After I had waited meekly for a while I asked an attendant if the interview was likely to last much longer. He said that that might very well be, for it had probably something to do with the case which was being brought against the Chief Clerk. I asked what case, and was he not mistaken, but he said he was not mistaken, there was a case and a very serious one too, but more than that he did not know. He himself would like to help Herr K., for he was a good and just man, but he did not know how he was to do it, and he only wished that some influential gentleman would take the Chief Clerk's part. To be sure, that was certain to happen and everything would be all right in the end, but for the time being, as he could see from Herr K.'s state of mind, things looked far from well. Naturally I did not take all this too seriously, I tried to reassure the simple fellow and forbade him to talk about it to anyone else, and I'm sure it's just idle gossip. All the same, it might be as well if you, dearest Father, were to inquire into it on your next visit to town, it will be easy for you to find out the real state of things, and if necessary to get some of your influential friends to intervene. Even if it shouldn't be necessary, and that is most likely, at least it will give your daughter an early chance of welcoming you with a kiss, which would please her.' A good child,"" said K.'s uncle when he had finished reading, wiping a tear from his eye. K. nodded , he had completely forgotten Erna among the various troubles lie had had lately, and the story about the chocolates she had obviously invented simply to save his face before his uncle and aunt. It was really touching, and the theater tickets which he now resolved to send her regularly would be a very inadequate return, but he did not feel equal at present to calling at her boarding-school and chattering to an eighteen-year-old flapper. ""And what have you got to say now?"" asked his uncle, who had temporarily for- gotten all his haste and agitation over the letter, which lie seemed to be rereading. "" Yes, Uncle,"" said K., ""it's quite true."" ""True?"" cried his uncle.","Thus, I arrive on a Monday at Champion, in Montrouge. In the evening, Champion bothers me about politics; he didn't have the same ideas as me. Well ! on Tuesday mornings I would spin, seeing that we are no longer in the time of slaves and that I don't want to sell myself for seven francs a day.",0,0.54371136,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 I know how bewitching she is, but I know too that she is kind, firm and noble. ""He won't marry her, I tell you. ""She is one of the most fantastic of fantastic creatures. Do you know that? Do you know that? "" That girl is an angel. Katerina Ivanovna exclaimed suddenly with extraordinary warmth. Why do you look at me like that, Alexey Fyodorovitch?","So! What I have told you so far, I only know second-hand. But I know this last story from himself. He told it to me the night we waited in a room of the sanatorium after his wife's operation from ten o'clock in the evening until dawn. From here on I can vouch for every word, because at such moments one does not lie.”",0,0.5435751,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 I insisted, bringing my hand down on the arm of the chair. You don’t know what happened … what happened in there, and … It was only pity, that’s all, no more.” oh, she misunderstands me entirely. “No, I can’t … I won’t have her loving me, not like that … And I can’t go on acting now as if I didn’t notice anything, I can’t sit here at my ease saying sweet nothings … I can’t! I only felt sorry for her. “No, no, no!”","No, no, no,"" I pounded my hand hard on the seat back. "" No, I can't... I don't want to be loved, not loved that much... And even now I can't go on acting as if I didn't notice anything, I can't sit at ease and grate sweets any longer... I can't! You don't know what happened... over there, over there and... she completely misunderstands me. I just felt sorry for her. Only pity, nothing else and nothing else at all!«",1,0.56559867,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 “What are you laughing about?” … the world, a dunghill of instinctive forces, which in any case1 shines in the sun with pale and dark gold picked tones. ",Moreira’s voice asked mildly from behind the two shelves separating him from my lofty peak.,1,0.56571865,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 How she dances!","Listen, she said to him, ""I yield to your protests and I yield to your assurances.""",0,0.5429844,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 ""Lise, for mercy's sake, don't scream, don't persecute me. At your age one can't know everything that grown-up people know. I'll come and tell you everything you ought to know. Oh, mercy on us! I am coming, I am coming.... Hysterics is a good sign, Alexey Fyodorovitch; it's an excellent thing that she is hysterical. That's just as it ought to be. In such cases I am always against the woman, against all these feminine tears and hysterics. Run and say, Yulia, that I'll fly to her. As for Ivan Fyodorovitch's going away like that, it's her own fault. But he won’t leave town. Lise, for mercy's sake, don't scream! Oh, yes; you are not screaming. It's I am screaming. Forgive your mamma; but I am delighted, delighted, delighted! Did you notice, Alexey Fyodorovitch, how young, how young Ivan Fyodorovitch was just now when he went out, when he said all that and went out? I thought he was so learned, such a _savant_, and all of a sudden he behaved so warmly, openly, and youthfully, with such youthful inexperience, and it was all so fine, like you.... And the way he repeated that German verse, it was just like you! But I must fly, I must fly! Alexey Fyodorovitch, make haste to carry out her commission, and then make haste back. Lise, do you want anything now? For mercy's sake, don't keep Alexey Fyodorovitch a minute. He will come back to you at once.""",But he won't go away.,1,0.5660185,1
+"lexical = 80, order = 100 Well, as now everything is over and, little by little, things are beginning to be as they used to be, again let me tell you one thing, my good friend: you are worried by what people will think about me, to which I hasten to assure you, Varvara Alexyevna, that my reputation is dearer to me than anything. For which reason and with reference to my misfortunes and all those disorderly proceedings I beg to inform you that no one of the authorities at the office know anything about it or will know anything about it. So that they will all feel the same respect for me as before. The one thing I’m afraid of is gossip. At home our landlady did nothing but shout, and now that with the help of your ten roubles I have paid part of what I owe her she does nothing more than grumble; as for other people, they don’t matter, one mustn’t borrow money of them, that’s all, and to conclude my explanations I tell you, Varvara Alexyevna, that your respect for me I esteem more highly than anything on earth, and I am comforted by it now in my temporary troubles. Thank God that the first blow and the first shock are over and that you have taken it as you have, and don’t look on me as a false friend, or an egoist for keeping you here and deceiving you because I love you as my angel and could not bring myself to part from you. I’ve set to work again assiduously and have begun performing my duties well. Yevstafy Ivanovitch did just say a word when I passed him by yesterday. I will not conceal from you, Varinka, that I am overwhelmed by my debts and the awful condition of my wardrobe, but that again does not matter, and about that too , I entreat you, do not despair, my dear. Send me another half rouble. Varinka, that half rouble rends my heart too. So that’s what it has come to now, that is how it is, old fool that I am; it’s not I helping you, my angel, but you, my poor little orphan, helping me. Fedora did well to get the money. For the time I have no hopes of getting any, but if there should be any prospects I will write to you fully about it all. But gossip, gossip is what I am most uneasy about. I kiss your little hand and implore you to get well. I don’t write more fully because I am in haste to get to the office. For I want by industry and assiduity to atone for all my shortcomings in the way of negligence in the office; a further account of all that happened and my adventures with the officers I put off till this evening.",Fedora did well to get the money.,1,0.5660185,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 But the missiles seemed to be falling there even more thickly than elsewhere. But presently she came to an open space, a bit of unprotected road where splinters and fragments of exploded shells lay thick, and she was watching behind a shed for a chance to make a dash when she perceived, emerging from a sort of cleft in the ground in front of her, a human head and two bright eyes that peered about inquisitively. It was a little, bare-footed, ten-year-old boy, dressed in a shirt and ragged trousers, an embryonic tramp, who was watching the battle with huge delight. She was not going to be killed if she could help it; she wished to find her husband and bring him back with her, that they might yet have many days of happy life together. There was method in the rash daring of her proceeding, and all the brave tranquillity that the prudent little housewife had at her command. At every report his small black beady eyes would snap and sparkle, and he jubilantly shouted: She turned her head and scrutinized for a moment the heights of the left bank, above which the smoke from the German batteries was curling upward; she saw what she must do, and when she started on her way again it was with eyes fixed on the horizon, watching for the shells in order to avoid them. The projectiles still came tumbling frequently as ever; she sped along behind walls, made a cover of boundary stones, availed herself of every slight depression. Henriette stopped short in her tracks and all the blood in her body seemed to flow back upon her heart at a frightful detonation, so close that she could feel the wind upon her cheek. A shell had exploded directly before her and only a few yards away. ","I remember clearly even now: through the narrow crack of the door a sharp sun ray like lightning broke into the darkness and played on the floor and walls of the closet, and a little higher the cruel ray blade fell upon the naked neck of I-330, and this for some reason seemed to me so terrible that I could not bear it, and I screamed—and again I opened my eyes.",0,0.54269665,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 There’s a lot of time yet; if s still dark out there. She’d rounded out a bit since she’d stopped having children, and that illness of hers – her constant suffering on account of the children – had begun to clear up; well, it didn’t really clear up, but it was as though she’d come to after a bout of drunkenness, as though she’d recovered her senses and realized that God’s world was still there with all its delights, the world she’d forgotten about and had no idea of how to live in, God’s world, of which she knew absolutely nothing. His face had now altered completely; his eyes wore a beseeching expression, and something that might almost have been a smile creased his lips strangely. Excuse me,’ he said and, fixing his gaze on the window, sat there in silence for something like three minutes. ‘I’m getting a bit tired, but I’ll tell you the rest of it. Yes,’ he began once more, as he lit a cigarette. ‘ Then he gave a deep sigh and came back to sit opposite me once more.","“Excuse me,” he exclaimed, looking out intently for a few minutes. Then he sighed deeply and sat down opposite me again. His face had undergone a complete change: a sad look came into his eyes and a strange sort of smile curved his lips. “I am a little tired, but I will go on with my story. There is plenty of time left; it has not begun to grow light yet. Yes,” he began again, after he had lit a cigarette. “She grew fuller after she stopped bearing children, and her malady—the constant worriment over the children— began to disappear. It did not really disappear, but she awoke, as it were, from a drunken stupor; she began to remember and to see that there was a whole world, a divine world, with joys she had forgotten and in which she did not know how to live—a wonderful world which she did not understand at all! ‘",1,0.56648326,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 said Khlobuev, and forthwith unloaded on them a whole heap of projects. They were all so absurd, so strange, so little consequent upon a knowledge of people and the world, that it remained only to shrug one’s shoulders and say: “Good lord! what an infinite distance there is between knowledge of the world and the ability to use that knowledge!” Almost all the projects were based on the need for suddenly procuring a hundred or two hundred thousand somewhere. Then, it seemed to him, everything could be arranged properly, and the management would get under way, and all the holes would be patched, and the income would be quadrupled, and it would be possible for him to repay all his debts. And he ended his talk by saying: “But what would you have me do? There simply is no such benefactor as would decide to lend me two hundred or at least one hundred thousand! Clearly, God is against it.”",And he would end with the words: “But what do you want me to do?,1,0.566738,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 There was Joachim, the good, honorable Joachim at his side, whose eyes took on such a sad expression during these months, and who at times shrugged his shoulders so violently and dismissively as he had never done before - Joachim with the » Blue Heinrich” in his pocket, as Frau Stöhr used to call this device: with such a stubborn, shameless face that it always horrified Hans Castorp in his soul … The honest Joachim was there, Hofrat Behrens tangled and tormented , so that he could get on and do his desired service on the ""plain"" or ""flatland,"" as the world of the healthy was called here with a faint but clear accent of contempt. So that he could get there faster and save time, which was wasted so lavishly here For Marusja was almost always there in the evening—laughter-loving Marusja, with the little ruby on her charming hand, the handkerchief with the orange scent, and the swelling bosom, tainted within—Hans Castorp comprehended that it was her presence which drove Joachim away, precisely because it so strongly, so fearfully drew him toward her. Joachim invariably went upstairs after only a quarter-hour in the drawing-rooms; and this military precision of his was a prop to the civilian laxity of his cousin, who would otherwise be likely to loiter unprofitably below, with his eye on the company in the small salon. However that might be, it was clear that Joachim was preoccupied with his own troubles; the thought of him could afford his cousin no mental support. Was Joachim too “immured”—and even worse off than himself, in that he had five times a day to sit at the same table with Marusja and her orange-scented handkerchief? “those up here” so wantonly flung away; served it unquestioningly for the sake of speedy recovery—but also, Hans Castorp detected, for the sake of the cure itself, which, after all, was a service, like another; and was not duty duty, wherever performed? But Hans Castorp was convinced there was another and private reason why Joachim withdrew so early; he had known it since the time he saw his cousin’s face take on the mottled pallor, and his mouth assume the pathetic twist. He perfectly understood. His daily escape from social life, while honorable, was nothing short of reassuring, and then for a moment it seemed to him that Joachim's good example of dutifulness in the spa service, the expert guidance he was bestowing on him let her have doubts.","Oh, he so longed to have a glimpse of her, at least from a distance! "" She's with him now, well, I'll see how she's with him now, with her former sweetheart, and that's all I need.""",0,0.5420755,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 80 There’s the tavern opposite, which I can see if I look over my right shoulder; and there’s the box-maker’s, which I can see if I look over my left shoulder; and in the middle, which I can only see if I turn around, is the cobbler occupying the entrance to the office of the Africa Company with his steadfast hammering.","At the door of the cottage I never had, I sat in the sunlight that never fell there, and I enjoyed the future old age of my tired reality (glad that I hadn’t arrived there yet). To still not have died is enough for life’s wretches, and to still have hope .....",1,0.56706774,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 Later in the day, after lunch, after dinner, he had audiences listening to what he was doing, a changing audience—if you didn't want to look at him as such, but as a source of pleasure. Personally, he leaned towards this view, and the house society granted it to him in the sense that they tacitly approved of his resolute self-appointment as administrator and custodian of the public institution from the very beginning. It didn't cost these people anything; for regardless of their superficial delight when that tenoral idol wallowed in luster and splendor, the world-blessing voice emanated in cantilenas and the high arts of passion - in spite of this loudly professed delight they were without love and therefore completely in agreement with anyone who wanted to to let go of the worry. It was Hans Castorp who kept the records in order, wrote the contents of each album on the inside of the cover, so that each piece might be found at once when it was wanted, and “ran” the instrument. What would the others have done? They would have desecrated the records by working them with worn needles, would have left them lying around openly on chairs, would have made dull jokes with the apparatus by running a noble piece with a tempo and pitch of one hundred and ten, or set the pointer to zero, like that that it resulted in a hysterical tirili, or a stifled moan... They had done all that before. They were sick but raw. And that's why Hans Castorp soon carried the key to the cupboard in which the albums and needles were kept in his pocket, so that you had to call him when you wanted to have it played.","It was Hans Castorp who kept the disc treasury in order, wrote the contents of the albums on the inside of the cover so that any piece was immediately at hand on request and when called, and who handled the instrument: you could see him with soon practiced players , do tight and delicate movements.",1,0.567637,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 Aglaya was quite alone, and dressed, apparently hastily, in a light mantle. He could remember that Vera brought him some dinner, and that he took it; but whether he slept after dinner, or no, he could not recollect. Her face was pale, as it had been in the morning, and her eyes were ablaze with bright but subdued fire. He had never seen that expression in her eyes before. He remembered, some days afterwards, how during all those fevered hours he had seen but HER eyes, HER look, had heard HER voice, strange words of hers; he remembered that this was so, although he could not recollect the details of his thoughts. He was not so much afraid of this meeting, nor of its strangeness, nor of any reasons there might be for it, unknown to himself; he was afraid of the woman herself, Nastasia Philipovna. She gazed attentively at him. He only knew that he began to distinguish things clearly from the moment when Aglaya suddenly appeared, and he jumped up from the sofa and went to meet her. It was just a quarter past seven then. This question he did not once ask himself today; his heart was quite pure. He knew whom he loved.","He never once asked himself that question today; here his heart was pure: he knew whom he loved ... He was not so much afraid of their meeting, not of the strangeness, not of the reason for this meeting, unknown to him, not of its resolution by any means - he was afraid of Nastasya Filippovna herself. He remembered only later, a few days later, that in those hectic hours almost all the time her eyes, her look, her words were heard to him - some strange words, although a little later remained in his memory after these feverish and dreary hours. . He hardly remembered, for example, how Vera brought him dinner and he dined, did he not remember whether he slept after dinner or not? He only knew that he had begun to distinguish everything quite clearly that evening only from the moment when Aglaya suddenly came to him on the terrace and he jumped up from the sofa and went out to the middle of the room to meet her: it was a quarter past seven. Aglaya was alone, dressed simply and, as it were, hastily, in a light burnous coat. Her face was as pale as before, and her eyes sparkled with a bright, dry gleam; he had never seen such an expression in her eyes. She looked him over carefully.",1,0.5678168,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 “No, I see you don’t believe it, sir, all you think is that I’m telling you innocent jokes,” Porfiry picked up, becoming more and more cheerful and incessantly giggling with pleasure and again starting to circle the room, “it, of course, you right, sir; my figure is already so arranged by God himself that only comical thoughts excite others; buffon, sir; [56] but I’ll tell you this and repeat again, sir, that you, father, Rodion Romanovich, excuse me, old man, you are still a young man, from, so to speak, the first youth, and therefore the mind is above all appreciate the human, following the example of all youth. Playful sharpness of mind and abstract arguments of reason seduce you, sir. And this is exactly like the former Austrian gofkriegsrat,[57] for example, as far as I can judge the military events: on paper, they defeated Napoleon and took him to the full, and how it was there, in their office , everyone calculated and summed up in the most ingenious way, and you look, General Mack surrenders with his entire army, hehehehe! I see, I see, father Rodion Romanovich, you are laughing at me that I, such a stately person, select all examples from military history. I should have joined the army, I really should. Well, what can I do—it’s a weakness of mine Do listen to an old man, I’m talking seriously, Rodion Romanovich’ (at this point the barely thirty-five-year-old Porfiry Petrovich really did seem to age suddenly; even his voice changed, and he became all hunched up), ‘and besides, I’m a candid person… Perhaps I might never have become a Napoleon—but I would have got to major, heh-heh-heh! Well then, my dear fellow, now I’m going to tell you the whole truth, in every detail, about that particular special case: actual fact and the human temperament, my dear sir, are very important things, and just see how they sometimes undermine the most penetrating calculations! , I’m fond of military science, and I really love reading about all those military campaigns… truly, I’ve missed my vocation. Am I an outspoken person or not? What do you think? It already seems that it’s quite: I tell you such things for free, and I don’t even demand a reward for it, hehe! Well, so, sir, I continue, sir: wit, in my opinion, is a magnificent thing, sir; it is, so to speak, the beauty of nature and the consolation of life, and what kind of tricks it seems it can set, so where, it seems, sometimes some poor investigator can guess, who, moreover, is carried away by his own imagination, as always , therefore, too, after all, man-c! Yes, the nature of a poor investigator helps out, sir, that's the trouble! And young people who are carried away by wit, ""walking through all obstacles"" (as you deigned to express it in the most witty and cunning way) will not even think about this. He, let's say, will lie, that is, a person, sir, a particular case, sir ... incognito, sir, and lie perfectly, in the most cunning manner; here, it seems, would be a triumph, and enjoy the fruits of your wit, and he clap! Yes, in the most interesting, in the most scandalous place, and he will faint. Let's say it's a sickness, stuffiness also sometimes happens in rooms, but all the same, sir! Still got the idea! He lied incomparably, but he did not manage to calculate on nature. There it is, deceit somewhere! Another time, carried away by the playfulness of his wit, he will begin to fool a person who suspects him; he will turn pale as if on purpose, as if in a game, but he will turn pale too naturally, it looks too much like the truth, but again he gave an idea! Although he will inflate from the first time, but during the night he will think of it, if the little one himself is not a blunder. Why, at every step, so-and-so! Yes, what: he himself will start to run ahead, he will begin to poke his head where they don’t ask, he will start talking incessantly about what he should, on the contrary, be silent, he will start letting in various allegories, hehe! he will come and start asking: why don’t they take me for a long time? heh heh heh! and this, after all, can happen to the most witty person, to a psychologist and a man of letters, sir! Mirror nature, mirror, sir, the most transparent, sir! Look into it and admire it, that's what! Why are you so pale, Rodion Romanovich, aren't you stuffy, why don't you open the window?","But what to do, weakness, I love military affairs, and I really love reading all these military reports ... I decidedly skimped on my career. I would like to serve in the military, sir, right, sir. Perhaps he wouldn't have become a Napoleon, but he would have been a major, sir, he-he-he! Well, so now, my dear, I will tell you the whole detailed truth about that, that is, a particular case: reality and nature, my sir, are an important thing, and wow, how sometimes the most far-sighted calculation is undercut! Hey, listen to the old man, I’m talking seriously, Rodion Romanovich (saying this, the hardly thirty-five-year-old Porfiry Petrovich really seems to have suddenly grown old; even his voice has changed, and somehow he’s all crooked), - besides, I’m a frank person, sir ...",1,0.5678168,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 she repeated, speaking rapidly and making as many signs of the cross over me as she possibly could. "" My darling, my darling!","A good deed! And for each of your good deeds the Lord will bless you. Good deeds do not go unrewarded, and virtue will sooner or later be adorned with the crown of divine justice.",0,0.54078746,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 If Marius had been Courfeyrac, that is to say, one of those men who laugh on every occasion of life, he would have burst out laughing when his eyes fell on La Jondrette. She had on a black hat with feathers, rather like the hats of the heralds-at-arms at the coronation of Charles X., an immense tartan shawl over her knit petticoat, and the men's shoes which her daughter had disdained in the morning. It was this toilet that had wrung from Jondrette the exclamation: Bon! Good! You have dressed up. You did well. You have to be able to inspire confidence!",you got dressed!,1,0.56895477,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 So you see the nonsense of your hopes. Only Renell had hidden his precious clothes in some secret place from which nobody had ever pulled them out, especially since no one borrowed someone else's clothes, perhaps out of malice or greed, but took them there out of sheer haste and carelessness. "" And he tugged at the most varied parts of the suit, this one of course , although it had been almost new five months ago, was worn, wrinkled, but above all stained, which was mainly due to the recklessness of the Lifjungen, who every day, according to the general order, made the hall floor smooth and dust-free because of laziness they didn't actually clean it, but sprinkled the floor with some kind of oil and at the same time splattered all the clothes on the clothes racks didn't have clothes at hand, but easily found the hidden stranger's clothes and borrowed them, and maybe this one was the one that day e had to clean the hall and then not only spattered the clothes with the oil, but poured it completely from top to bottom. And do you really think that if someone should come in because of you, there would be someone who would agree with you, across from me, the head porter. ""And I can shut your mouth,"" said the head porter just as calmly and quickly as he thought he would if necessary. "" Do you know when you were still in uniform, you actually looked a bit remarkable, but in this suit, which is actually only possible in Europe.","“And I can stuff your mouth,” said the head porter, just as calmly and as quickly as he might well intend to carry out that threat if necessary. “And do you really believe that if any of those people came in here on account of you, even one of them would side with you, as opposed to me, the head porter. So you can surely see that your hopes are futile. You know, when you were still wearing your uniform, you looked reasonably presentable, but the same cannot be said for you now in that suit, which would be presentable only in Europe.” And he tugged at various parts of the suit, which, though it had been almost new five months ago, was now worn, creased, and above all stained, mostly owing to the carelessness of the lift boys, who in their laziness had responded to the general order that the dormitory floor be kept smooth and free of dust, not by undertaking any real cleaning, but simply by sprinkling some kind of oil on the floor every day, managing to leave dreadful splashes on all of the clothes on the clothes stands. Well, wherever one put one’s clothes, there was always someone around who did not have his own clothes at hand and easily found a few concealed clothes belonging to someone else and borrowed them. And one of the boys entrusted with the task of cleaning the dormitory might not simply sprinkle oil on his clothes but smear them from top to bottom. Renell alone had managed to find for his expensive clothes a secret hiding place, where they had been left virtually undisturbed; the lift boys simply took clothes wherever they found them, for no one borrowed anyone else’s clothes out of, say, malice or greed but merely in haste and out of carelessness.",1,0.56916434,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 40 Indeed such was the interest taken by certain citizens in the matter that they advised the purchaser to provide himself and his convoy with an escort, in order to ensure their safe arrival at the appointed destination; but though Chichikov thanked the donors of this advice for the same, and declared that he should be very glad, in case of need, to avail himself of it, he declared also that there was no real need for an escort, seeing that the peasants whom he had purchased were exceptionally peace-loving folk, and that, being themselves consenting parties to the transferment, they would undoubtedly prove in every way tractable. One particularly good result of this advertisement of his scheme was that he came to rank as neither more nor less than a millionaire. Consequently, much as the inhabitants had liked our hero in the first instance (as seen in Chapter I.), they now liked him more than ever. As a matter of fact, they were citizens of an exceptionally quiet, good-natured, easy-going disposition; and some of them were even well-educated. For instance, the President of the Local Council could recite the whole of Zhukovski’s LUDMILLA by heart, and give such an impressive rendering of the passage “The pine forest was asleep and the valley at rest” (as well as of the exclamation “Phew!”) that one felt, as he did so, that the pine forest and the valley really WERE as he described them. The effect was also further heightened by the manner in which, at such moments, he assumed the most portentous frown. For his part, the Postmaster went in more for philosophy, and diligently perused such works as Young’s Night Thoughts, and Eckharthausen’s A Key to the Mysteries of Nature; of which latter work he would make copious extracts, though no one had the slightest notion what they referred to. For the rest, he was a witty, florid little individual, and much addicted to a practice of what he called “embellishing” whatsoever he had to say—a feat which he performed with the aid of such by-the-way phrases as “my dear sir,” “ my good So-and-So ,” “you know,” “you understand,” “you may imagine,” “relatively speaking,” “for instance,” and “et cetera”; of which phrases he would add sackfuls to his speech. He could also “embellish” his words by the simple expedient of half-closing, half-winking one eye; which trick communicated to some of his satirical utterances quite a mordant effect. Nor were his colleagues a wit inferior to him in enlightenment. For instance, one of them made a regular practice of reading Karamzin, another of conning the Moscow Gazette, and a third of never looking at a book at all. Likewise, although they were the sort of men to whom, in their more intimate movements, their wives would very naturally address such nicknames as “Toby Jug,” “Marmot,” “Fatty,” “Pot Belly,” “Smutty,” “Kiki,” and “Buzz-Buzz,” they were men also of good heart, and very ready to extend their hospitality and their friendship when once a guest had eaten of their bread and salt, or spent an evening in their company. Particularly, therefore, did Chichikov earn these good folk’s approval with his taking methods and qualities—so much so that the expression of that approval bid fair to make it difficult for him to quit the town, seeing that, wherever he went, the one phrase dinned into his ears was “Stay another week with us, Paul Ivanovitch.” In short, he ceased to be a free agent. But incomparably more striking was the impression (a matter for unbounded surprise!) which he produced upon the ladies. Properly to explain this phenomenon I should need to say a great deal about the ladies themselves, and to describe in the most vivid of colours their social intercourse and spiritual qualities. Yet this would be a difficult thing for me to do, since, on the one hand, I should be hampered by my boundless respect for the womenfolk of all Civil Service officials, and, on the other hand—well, simply by the innate arduousness of the task. The ladies of N. were— But no, I cannot do it; my heart has already failed me. Come, come! The ladies of N. were distinguished for— But it is of no use; somehow my pen seems to refuse to move over the paper—it seems to be weighted as with a plummet of lead. Very well. That being so, I will merely say a word or two concerning the most prominent tints on the feminine palette of N.—merely a word or two concerning the outward appearance of its ladies, and a word or two concerning their more superficial characteristics. The ladies of N. were pre-eminently what is known as “presentable.” Indeed, in that respect they might have served as a model to the ladies of many another town. That is to say, in whatever pertained to “tone,” etiquette, the intricacies of decorum, and strict observance of the prevailing mode, they surpassed even the ladies of Moscow and St. Petersburg, seeing that they dressed with taste, drove about in carriages in the latest fashions, and never went out without the escort of a footman in gold-laced livery. Again, they looked upon a visiting card—even upon a make-shift affair consisting of an ace of diamonds or a two of clubs—as a sacred thing; so sacred that on one occasion two closely related ladies who had also been closely attached friends were known to fall out with one another over the mere fact of an omission to return a social call! Yes, in spite of the best efforts of husbands and kinsfolk to reconcile the antagonists, it became clear that, though all else in the world might conceivably be possible, never could the hatchet be buried between ladies who had quarrelled over a neglected visit. Likewise strenuous scenes used to take place over questions of precedence—scenes of a kind which had the effect of inspiring husbands to great and knightly ideas on the subject of protecting the fair. True, never did a duel actually take place, since all the husbands were officials belonging to the Civil Service; but at least a given combatant would strive to heap contumely upon his rival, and, as we all know, that is a resource which may prove even more effectual than a duel. As regards morality, the ladies of N. were nothing if not censorious, and would at once be fired with virtuous indignation when they heard of a case of vice or seduction. Nay, even to mere frailty they would award the lash without mercy. On the other hand, should any instance of what they called “third personism” occur among THEIR OWN circle, it was always kept dark—not a hint of what was going on being allowed to transpire, and even the wronged husband holding himself ready, should he meet with, or hear of, the “third person,” to quote, in a mild and rational manner, the proverb, “Whom concerns it that a friend should consort with friend?” In addition, I may say that, like most of the female world of St. Petersburg, the ladies of N. were pre-eminently careful and refined in their choice of words and phrases. Never did a lady say, “I blew my nose,” or “I perspired,” or “I spat.” No, it had to be, “I relieved my nose through the expedient of wiping it with my handkerchief,” and so forth. Again, to say, “This glass, or this plate, smells badly,” was forbidden. No, not even a hint to such an effect was to be dropped. Rather, the proper phrase, in such a case, was “This glass, or this plate, is not behaving very well,”—or some such formula. In fact, to refine the Russian tongue the more thoroughly, something like half the words in it were cut out: which circumstance necessitated very frequent recourse to the tongue of France, since the same words, if spoken in French, were another matter altogether, and one could use even blunter ones than the ones originally objected to. So much for the ladies of N., provided that one confines one’s observations to the surface; yet hardly need it be said that, should one penetrate deeper than that, a great deal more would come to light. At the same time, it is never a very safe proceeding to peer deeply into the hearts of ladies; wherefore, restricting ourselves to the foregoing superficialities, let us proceed further on our way. Hitherto the ladies had paid Chichikov no particular attention, though giving him full credit for his gentlemanly and urbane demeanour; but from the moment that there arose rumours of his being a millionaire other qualities of his began to be canvassed. Nevertheless, not ALL the ladies were governed by interested motives, since it is due to the term “millionaire” rather than to the character of the person who bears it, that the mere sound of the word exercises upon rascals, upon decent folk, and upon folk who are neither the one nor the other, an undeniable influence. A millionaire suffers from the disadvantage of everywhere having to behold meanness, including the sort of meanness which, though not actually based upon calculations of self-interest, yet runs after the wealthy man with smiles, and doffs his hat, and begs for invitations to houses where the millionaire is known to be going to dine. That a similar inclination to meanness seized upon the ladies of N. goes without saying; with the result that many a drawing-room heard it whispered that, if Chichikov was not exactly a beauty, at least he was sufficiently good-looking to serve for a husband, though he could have borne to have been a little more rotund and stout. To that there would be added scornful references to lean husbands, and hints that they resembled tooth-brushes rather than men—with many other feminine additions. Also, such crowds of feminine shoppers began to repair to the Bazaar as almost to constitute a crush, and something like a procession of carriages ensued, so long grew the rank of vehicles. For their part, the tradesmen had the joy of seeing highly priced dress materials which they had bought at fairs, and then been unable to dispose of, now suddenly become tradeable, and go off with a rush. For instance, on one occasion a lady appeared at Mass in a bustle which filled the church to an extent which led the verger on duty to bid the commoner folk withdraw to the porch, lest the lady’s toilet should be soiled in the crush. Even Chichikov could not help privately remarking the attention which he aroused. On one occasion, when he returned to the inn, he found on his table a note addressed to himself. Whence it had come, and who had delivered it, he failed to discover, for the waiter declared that the person who had brought it had omitted to leave the name of the writer. Beginning abruptly with the words “I MUST write to you,” the letter went on to say that between a certain pair of souls there existed a bond of sympathy; and this verity the epistle further confirmed with rows of full stops to the extent of nearly half a page. Next there followed a few reflections of a correctitude so remarkable that I have no choice but to quote them. “What, I would ask, is this life of ours?” inquired the writer. A crowd of people who don't feel."" The valley where sorrows settled. What is light? "" Thereafter, incidentally remarking that she had just dropped a tear to the memory of her dear mother, who had departed this life twenty-five years ago, the (presumably) lady writer invited Chichikov to come forth into the wilds, and to leave for ever the city where, penned in noisome haunts, folk could not even draw their breath. In conclusion, the writer gave way to unconcealed despair, and wound up with the following verses:","“‘Tis nought but a vale of woe. And what, I would ask, is the world? ‘ Tis nought but a mob of unthinking humanity.”",1,0.5692541,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 40 Approaching, they discovered over the front door an inscribed slab of white jade. “Scrumptious news!” exclaimed Pigsy. “We don’t know what sort of a place this is,” cautioned Sandy. “Let’s do a little reconnaissance first.” Let’s go before Tripitaka finishes it all off!” “Tripitaka is doubtless inside that pagoda right now, stuffing his face. It just so happened that Tripitaka was not yet destined to be dinner, for the two disciples soon spotted the pagoda’s golden light.","Truly, their reigns golden light as bright as day, All kinds of nameless sweet incense, The eye meets a thousand trees in the beautiful palace, And the sweetest music charms the ear beyond all earthly strains , There the saints never grow old, Once partaking of celestial food, they live forever. All the sorrows of life are past, And now eternal glory and joy are attained. It was great bliss to Zhu Bajie and Sha the Monk to be at Buddha’s palace, and enjoy to their hearts’ content the banquet of immortals, who had cast off their mortal coils of bones and flesh and blood. Ananda and Kasyapa honored their guests with their presence. When their meal was over, the pilgrims were led to the Sacred Library, where books were stored in cupboards and boxes all with red labels of their names. After the four had seen the list of books, Ananda and Kasyapa said, if they were going to pay for the volumes, they would be given them at once. The Master replied that he had not been prepared to pay, as he understood the Scriptures were to be presented to them.",1,0.5695534,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 The Postmaster went in more for philosophy and read quite diligently, even burning the midnight oil—such things as Young’s Night Thoughts and Eckartshausen’s The Key to the Mysteries of Nature, from both of which he copied quite lengthy excerpts, but no one knew of just what nature these excerpts were.5","They are majestic because they think. The higher plane which they bring to civilisation is intrinsic to them; it comes from themselves, and not from an accident. The advancement which they have made in the nineteenth century does not spring from Waterloo. It is only barbarous nations who have a sudden growth after a victory. It is the fleeting vanity of the streamlet swelled by the storm. Civilised nations, especially in our times, are not exalted nor abased by the good or bad fortune of a captain. Their specific gravity in the human race results from something more than a combat. Their honour, thank God, their dignity, their light, their genius, are not numbers that heroes and conquerors, those gamblers, can cast into the lottery of battles. Oftentimes a battle lost is progress attained. Less glory, more liberty.",0,0.5391045,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 "" Her conversation with God is colossally interesting. It ends with the fact that she begs God for a stop of torment every year from Good Friday to Trinity Day, and sinners from hell immediately thank the Lord and cry out to him: ""You are right, Lord, that you have judged so. He appears on my stage; true, he does not say anything in the poem, but only appears and passes. Well, my poem would have been of the same kind if it had appeared at that time. She begs, she does not leave, and when God points out to her the nailed arms and legs of her son and asks: how will I forgive his tormentors, then she orders all the saints, all the martyrs, all the angels and archangels to fall with her and pray for mercy all indiscriminately.","Occasionally supplications are long, drawn-out and drawling, stereotyped and mechanical—they are purely begging supplications. Requests of this kind it is less hard to refuse, for they are purely professional and of long standing. “The beggar is overdoing it,” one thinks to oneself. “He knows the trick too well.” But there are other supplications which voice a strange, hoarse, unaccustomed note, like that today when I took the poor boy’s paper. He had been standing by the kerbstone without speaking to anybody—save that at last to myself he said, “For the love of Christ give me a groat!”",0,0.5385434,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 He said that Xuande's army was in Luocheng. The person sent by Fazheng to send the book reported: ""Zheng Du persuaded Liu Zhang to burn all the wild valleys and storehouses in various places, and lead the people of Brazil to avoid the west of the Fushui River. The deep trenches and high fortresses did not fight."" Xuande and Kong Ming heard this. They were all shocked and said, ""If I use these words, my situation is in danger!"" Fazheng laughed and said, ""My lord, don't worry: although this tactic is poisonous, Liu Zhang will definitely not be able to use it."" Within a day, it was rumored that Liu Zhang would not move. To move the people, do not follow the words of Zheng Du. When Xuande heard this, Fang Shi was relieved. Kong Ming said: ""You can quickly advance troops to take Mianzhu: if you get here, Chengdu will be easy to take."" He then sent Huang Zhong and Wei Yan to lead the army forward. Fei Guan heard that Xuande's troops were coming, and sent Li Yan to greet him. Yan led 3,000 soldiers out, and they were all set up. Huang Zhong went out and fought with Li Yan forty or fifty. Kong Ming ordered Ming Jin to withdraw from the tent. Huang Zhong rides out the next day to single combat but then turns and flees, luring Li Yan into following him. Kong Ming was at the top of the mountain, and called out, ""If you don't surrender, you have already put down a strong crossbow, and you want to report to me, Pang Shiyuan."" Li Yan dismounted his horse and surrendered in a panic. The sergeant never hurt anyone. Kong Ming invited Li Yan to see Xuande. Xuande was very kind. Yan said, ""Although Fei Guan is a relative of Liu Yizhou, he is very close to a certain person, so he should talk to him."" Xuande ordered Li Yan to return to the city to recruit Fei Guan. Yan entered Mianzhu City and praised Fei Guan for being so benevolent. Listen to his words, open the door and surrender. Xuande then entered Mianzhu and discussed dividing his troops to take Chengdu. Suddenly, Meteor and Ma urgently reported that Mengda and Huo Jun were guarding Jiameng Pass, and now Zhang Lu of Dongchuan sent Ma Chao, Yang Bo, and Ma Dai to lead troops to attack them urgently. Xuande was shocked. Kong Ming said: ""You must be the two generals of Zhang and Zhao before you can fight the enemy."" Xuande said, ""Zilong has led his troops outside and has not returned. Yide is already here, so he can be dispatched urgently."" Kong Ming said: ""My lord, please don't return. Say it, Rong Liang is excited.""","Huang Zhong returned to the formation and asked, ""I'm about to capture Li Yan, why did the military commander withdraw the troops?"" Kong Ming said, ""I've seen Li Yan's martial arts, and I can't take it by force. If you fight again in the future, you can cheat and lead to the mountain valley. Surprise your troops to win."" Huang Zhong led the plan. The next day, Li Yan led the troops again, and Huang Zhong went to battle again. Li Yan came, rushed into the mountain valley, and suddenly realized. When he was anxious to return, Wei Yan in front led his troops to move away.",1,0.5707501,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 Next, innumerable cries of la Ilaba ill’Allab3 rang out, as of Moors going into battle; trumpets and clarions blared, drums boomed, fifes shrilled, all at the same time, and so fast and continuously that only a person with no sense at all could have failed to lose it in the pandemonium created by all those instruments. The Duke was amazed, the Duchess was astonished, Don Quixote was dumbfounded, Sancho Panza was trembling and, in short, even those who knew the secret were alarmed. Fear imposed its silence, and then a post-boy in devil ’s garb rode before them, playing not a bugle but a vast hollow horn that emitted a fearful, raucous noise. With this and other amusing talk they left the marquee and went back into the wood, and in the inspection of hides the rest of the day soon passed and night fell, not as clear or calm a night as the season, midsummer, would have led one to expect, because a certain chiaroscuro about it was of great assistance to the schemes of the Duke and Duchess; and so, as night descended, a little after dusk, it suddenly seemed as if the entire wood were on fire, and then countless bugles and other military instruments were heard sounding out, here, there and everywhere, as if several troops of cavalry were riding through the wood. The blaze of the fires and the sound of the martial instruments almost blinded the eyes and deafened the ears of the bystanders and indeed of everybody in the wood. ","Engaged in this and other amiable conversations, they walked out of the tent and into the forest, and in the collecting of some traps the day passed quickly and night fell, not as clear or as tranquil as it usually was at that time of year, which was the middle of summer, but it did bring a certain chiaroscuro that furthered the plans of the duke and duchess, for as dusk began to turn into night, it suddenly seemed that the entire forest on all four sides was ablaze, and then here and there, this way and that, an infinite number of cornets and other warlike instruments were heard, as if troops of cavalry were riding through the woods. The light of the fires and the sound of martial instruments almost blinded and deafened the eyes and ears of those nearby and even those who were elsewhere in the forest. Then they heard the sound of infinite lelelíes, in the manner of a Moorish battle cry; trumpets and bugles blared, drums sounded, fifes played almost all at the same time, and so continually and so rapidly that one could lose one’s senses in the confused din of so many instruments. The duke was stunned, the duchess was astounded, Don Quixote was astonished, Sancho Panza trembled, and even those who knew the cause were frightened. In their fear they fell silent, and a postillion dressed as a demon passed in front of them, and instead of a cornet he was playing a huge, hollow animal horn that emitted a harsh and terrifying sound.",1,0.5709295,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 But this morning I didn't wait for it and slipped out of the house before eight. But despite my eagerness to go ahead with my plan, I was aware that many important points in it were still unclear in my mind; and this uncertainty had caused me to spend the night in a state halfway between sleep and wakefulness, thinking, losing the train of my thought, slipping into innumerable dreams, and never succeeding in sinking deeper into proper sleep for any length of time. Usually we— that is, my mother, my sister, and I—would get up around eight, while Versilov lingered in bed until half past nine or so. Punctually at eight-thirty, my mother would bring my breakfast up to my room. The following morning I got up as early as I could. I had prepared a plan of action for the day.","I tried to get up as early as possible in the morning. As a rule we, that is my mother, my sister and I, used to get up about eight o'clock. Versilov used to lie comfortably in bed till half-past nine. Punctually at half-past eight my mother used to bring me up my coffee. But this time I slipped out of the house at eight o'clock without waiting for it. I had the day before mapped out roughly my plan of action for the whole of this day. In spite of my passionate resolve to carry out this plan I felt that there was a very great deal of it that was uncertain and indefinite in its most essential points. That was why I lay all night in a sort of half-waking state; I had an immense number of dreams, as though I were light-headed, and I hardly fell asleep properly all night.",1,0.5709893,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 “In the fourth year it was admitted by both of us, though tacitly, that we could not understand each other—that we could not agree. We stopped trying to talk anything over to the end. In regard to the simplest things, especially the children, we each kept our own opinion unchangeably. As I now remember, the opinions I held were not so precious that I could not have given them up; but she had opposing notions, and to yield to them meant to yield to her. And this I could not do. Nor could she yield to me. She evidently considered herself always perfectly right toward me, and, as for me compared to her, I was always a saint in my own eyes. When we were together we were practically reduced to silence or to such conversations as animals probably carry on together: ‘What time is it?’ ‘Is it bedtime?’ ‘What will you have for dinner today?’ ‘Where will you drive?’ ‘What is the news?’ ‘We must send for the doctor; Masha has a sore throat.’ “It required only a step of a hair’s width beyond this unendurably narrowing circle of conventional sentences to inspire a quarrel— skirmishes and expressions of hatred about the coffee, the tablecloth, the drive, a play at whist—in fact, over trifles which could not have had the slightest importance for either of us. In me, at least, hatred of her boiled terribly. I often looked at her when she was drinking tea, dangling her crossed leg, bringing her spoon to her mouth to sip from it, swallowing—I hated her for this very trifle as if it were the worst of crimes. I did not notice that these periods broke out in me with regularity and uniformity, corresponding to the periods of what we called love. A period of love—then a period of hatred. An energetic period of passion—then a long period of hatred. A feebler show of passion— then a briefer outbreak of hatred. “We did not then comprehend that this love and hatred were one and the same animal passion, only with opposite poles. It would have been horrible to live in this way if we had realized our situation; but we did not realize it and did not see it. It’s the salvation as well as the punishment of human beings that when they’re living irregular lives, they’re able to wrap themselves in a blanket of fog so that they can’t see the wretchedness of their situation. “Thus it was with us. She sought to forget herself in strenuous and absorbing occupations —her housekeeping, the arrangement of the furniture, dressing herself and the family, and the education and health of the children. I had my own affairs to attend to—drinking, hunting, playing cards, going to my office. We were both busy all the time. We both felt that the busier we were, the more justified we were in being annoyed with each other. ‘It is very well for you to make up such grimaces,’ I would think, mentally addressing her. ‘ You tormented me all night with your scenes, but now I have a meeting to attend.’ ‘It is all very well for you,’ she would not only think, but even say aloud, ‘but the baby kept me awake all night long.’ “These new theories of hypnotism, mental disease, and hysteria are all an absurdity—not a simple absurdity, a vile and pernicious one.","In this lies the salvation, as well as the punishment, of a man—that, when he is living irregularly, he may blind himself so as not to see the wretchedness of his situation.",1,0.57104915,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 My sovereign begs the pleasure of your company for dinner.” It’s been centuries since we tested ourselves against each other —I’ve really missed our mortal combat.” When they were about a hundred clashes in—each fighting on their respective auspicious clouds—a voice called out from the summit of Thunder-Hoard Mountain: “Lord Bull Demon! “Good plan, brother.","“There's no need to talk it over with him,” Pig said. “He's not my father or mother, and it's entirely up to me whether I do it or not.” “Very well then,” she said, “Wait while I tell the girls.” With that she went in and shut the door behind her.",1,0.57104915,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 He was warmly dressed, in a wide, lambskin black covered sheepskin coat, and did not get chilly during the night, while his neighbor was forced to endure on his shivering back all the sweetness of a damp Russian November night, for which, obviously, he was not prepared. His eyes were large, blue and intent; in their eyes there was something quiet, but heavy, something full of that strange expression by which some people guess at first sight that the subject has epilepsy. Especially noticeable in this face was his deathly pallor, which gave the whole physiognomy of the young man a haggard look, despite his rather strong build, and at the same time something passionate, to the point of suffering, not in harmony with his impudent and rude smile and with his sharp, self-satisfied look. . The owner of the cloak with a hood was a young man, also about twenty-six or twenty-seven, a little above average height, very blond, thick hair, sunken cheeks and a light, pointed, almost completely white beard. He was wearing a rather wide and thick cloak without sleeves and with a huge hood, just like the travelers often use, in winter, somewhere far abroad, in Switzerland or, for example, in Northern Italy, not counting, of course, at the same time, and to such ends along the road as from Eidtkunen to St. Petersburg. But what was suitable and quite satisfying in Italy turned out to be not entirely suitable in Russia. The young man’s face, however, was pleasant, fine, and dry, but colorless, and now even blue with cold. From his hands dangled a meager bundle made of old, faded foulard, containing, apparently, all his traveling possessions. On his feet he had thick-soled shoes with gaiters—all not the Russian way. His black-haired companion in the lambskin coat took all this in, partly from having nothing to do, and finally asked, with that tactless grin which sometimes expresses so unceremoniously and carelessly people’s pleasure in their neighbor’s misfortunes:","Especially notable was the deathly pallor of his face, which gave the young man’s whole physiognomy an exhausted look, despite his rather robust build, and at the same time suggested something passionate, to the point of suffering, which was out of harmony with his insolent and coarsesmile and his sharp, self-satisfied gaze. He was warmly dressed in an ample lambskin coat covered with black cloth and had not been cold during the night, while his neighbor had been forced to bear on his chilled back all the sweetness of a damp Russian November night, for which he was obviously not prepared. He was wearing a rather ample and thick sleeveless cloak with an enormous hood, the sort often worn by winter travelers somewhere far abroad, in Switzerland or northern Italy, for instance, certainly not reckoning on such long distances as from Eydkuhnen1 to Petersburg. But what was proper and quite satisfactory in Italy turned out to be not entirely suitable to Russia. The owner of the cloak with the hood was a young man, also about twenty-six or twenty-seven years old, slightly taller than average, with very blond, thick hair, sunken cheeks, and a sparse, pointed, nearly white little beard. His eyes were big, blue, and intent; their gaze had something quiet but heavy about it and was filled with that strange expression by which some are able to guess at first sight that the subject has the falling sickness.",1,0.5711687,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 In the middle of the party the Monkey King suddenly put down his cup and asked, “What sort of office is this 'Protector of the Horses?'” “What the name suggests, that's all.” “Which official grading does it carry?” “Unclassified.” “What does 'unclassified' mean?” “Bottom grade,” the others replied, going on to explain, “It is a very low and unimportant office, and all you can do in it is look after the horses. Even someone who works as conscientiously as Your Honour and gets the horses so fat will get no more reward than someone saying 'good'; and if anything goes at all wrong you will be held responsible, and if the losses are serious you will be fined and punished.” The Monkey King flared up on hearing this, gnashed his teeth, and said in a great rage, “How dare they treat me with such contempt? In my Mountain Garden they call me King. How dare he trick me into coming here to feed his horses for him? It's a low job for youngsters, not for me. I won't do it, I won't. I'm going back.” He pushed the table over with a crash, took his treasure out of his ear, and shook it. It became as thick as a rice bowl, and he brandished it as he charged out of the Imperial Stables to the Southern Gate of Heaven. As the celestial guards knew that his name was on the register of immortal officials they did not dare to block his path, but let him out through the gate.",On the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit I am a king and a patriarch.,1,0.57128835,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 The small town is rich, with its many factories, its well-built main street on both sides of the road, its pretty church and town hall. Only, the night that the Emperor and Marshal MacMahon had spent there, in the clutter of the staff and the imperial household, and the subsequent passage of the entire 1st Corps, which, all morning , had flowed by the road like a river, had just exhausted the resources there, emptying the bakeries and the grocers, sweeping up the crumbs from the bourgeois houses. There was no more bread, no more wine, no more sugar, nothing to drink or eat. Ladies had been seen, in front of their doors, distributing glasses of wine and cups of broth, to the last drop from barrels and pots. And so there was an end, and when, about three o'clock, the first regiments of the 7th corps began to appear the scene was a pitiful one; the broad street was filled from curb to curb with weary, dust-stained men, dying with hunger, and there was not a mouthful of food to give them. Many of them stopped, knocking at doors and extending their hands beseechingly toward windows, begging for a morsel of bread, and women were seen to cry and sob as they motioned that they could not help them, that they had nothing left. ","And it was all over, and when the first regiments of the 7th corps, around three o'clock, began to march past, there was despair. What ? it started again, there were always some! Again the main street was carrying exhausted men, covered with dust, dying of hunger, without a bite to give them. Many stopped, knocked on doors, held out their hands to the windows, begging for a piece of bread to be thrown to them. And there were women who were sobbing, making signs to them that they couldn't, that they had nothing left.",1,0.57128835,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 20 As she passed these remarks, they all descended the couch together. Goody Liu adjusted their dresses, and, having impressed a few more words of advice on Pan Erh, they followed Chou Jui’s wife through winding passages to Chia Lien’s house. “This is,” she urged, “just the hour for her meal, and as she is free we had better first go and wait for her; for were we to be even one step too late, a crowd of servants will come with their reports, and it will then be difficult to speak to her; and after her siesta, she’ll have still less time to herself.” As soon as Chou Jui’s wife heard this news, she speedily got up and pressed goody Liu to be off at once.","’s; A long mouth wide open like a fire pot. A gold cap is fastened with bands by the cheek. Straps on his armor seem like scaleless snakes. He holds a rake—a dragon’s outstretched claws; From his waist hangs a bow of half-moon shape. His awesome presence and his prideful mien Defy the deities and daunt the gods. He rushed up toward the two travelers and, without regard for good or ill, lifted the rake and brought it down hard on the Bodhisattva. But he was met by Disciple Hui’an, who cried with a loud voice, “Reckless monster! Desist from this insolence!",0,0.5371628,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 “I won’t be, so what will be? Nothing will happen. So where will I be when I'm gone? Is it death? No I do not want to"". He jumped up, wanted to light a candle, groped around with trembling hands, dropped the candle with the candlestick on the floor and again fell back onto the pillow. "" What for? It doesn't matter, he said to himself, looking into the darkness with open eyes. - Death. Yes, death. And they do not know anyone, and do not want to know, and do not regret. Now they are playing.” (He heard through the door the distant sound of a song and its accompaniment.) They don't care, but they will also die. Fools. To me before, and to them after; and they will be the same. And they rejoice. Cattle!"" Anger choked him. And it became painful, unbearably hard for him. It cannot be that everyone has always been doomed to this terrible fear. He got up.",They are playing. (He heard distant voices and ritornellos from behind the door.),1,0.5717666,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 Svidrigailov treated Katia and the organ-grinder and some singers and the waiters and two little clerks. He was particularly drawn to these clerks by the fact that they both had crooked noses, one bent to the left and the other to the right. They took him finally to a pleasure garden, where he paid for their entrance. There was one lanky three-year-old pine tree and three bushes in the garden, besides a “Vauxhall,”72 which was in reality a drinking-bar where tea too was served, and there were a few green tables and chairs standing round it. A chorus of wretched singers and a drunken, but extremely depressed German clown from Munich with a red nose entertained the public. The clerks quarrelled with some other clerks and a fight seemed imminent. Svidrigailov was chosen to decide the dispute. He listened to them for a quarter of an hour, but they shouted so loud that there was no possibility of understanding them. The only fact that seemed certain was that one of them had stolen something and had even succeeded in selling it on the spot to a Jew, but would not share the spoil with his companion. Finally it appeared that the stolen object was a teaspoon belonging to the Vauxhall. It was missed and the affair began to seem troublesome. Svidrigailov paid for the spoon, got up, and walked out of the garden. It was about six o’clock. He had not drunk a drop of wine all this time and had ordered tea more for the sake of appearances than anything. It was a dark and stifling evening. Soaked to the skin, he went home, locked himself, opened his bureau, took out all his money and tore two or three papers. The lightning flashed every minute, and it was possible to count up to five times during each glow. Then, putting money in his pocket, he was about to change his dress, but, looking out the window and listening to the thunder and rain, he waved his hand, took his hat and went out without locking the apartment. By ten o'clock terrible clouds had moved in from all sides; thunder struck, and the rain poured down like a waterfall. The water did not fall in drops, but in whole streams whipped to the ground. He went straight to Sonia. She was at home.","Threatening storm-clouds came over the sky at about ten o’clock. There was a clap of thunder, and the rain came down like a waterfall. The water did not fall in drops, but beat on the earth in streams. There were flashes of lightning every minute and each flash lasted while one could count five. Drenched to the skin, he went home, locked himself in, opened the bureau, took out all his money and tore up two or three papers. Then, putting the money in his pocket, he was about to change his clothes, but, looking out of the window and listening to the thunder and the rain, he gave up the idea, took up his hat and went out of the room without locking the door.",1,0.5724838,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 Quick off the mark, eh?’ In just under an hour our friend had cheated the heiress out of three-quarters of her fortune. When his accomplice Gollinger saw the name of Kekesfalva Castle and then the low sale price, he winked, unnoticed by Fräulein Dietzenhof, and gave his old companion in underhand dealings an admiring glance. Put it into words, and this friendly admiration said something like, ‘Good work, old fellow!","Schweik stroked and patted them as he said in wheedling tones : ""Well, here we are at last.",0,0.5363433,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 I must say all my calculations. I believed that the monster, chased from its dwelling by jealousy, would thus allow me to penetrate without danger into the house of the Lake, by the passage of the third underside. I had every interest, for everyone, to know exactly what could be in there! One day, tired of waiting for an opportunity, I played the stone and immediately I heard wonderful music; the monster worked, all doors open at home, to his triumphant Don Juan. I knew that was his life's work. I was careful not to move and I stayed cautiously in my dark hole. At one point, he stopped playing and began marching around his lair like someone demented shouting: ‘It’s got to be finished first, every last note of it!’ These words were not yet to reassure me and, as the music resumed, I closed the stone very gently. Now, in spite of this closed stone, I still heard a vague distant, distant song, which rose from the bottom of the earth, as I had heard the song of the siren rising from the bottom of the waters. And I remembered the words of some machinists who had been laughed at at the time of Joseph Buquet's death: ""There was a noise around the body of the hanged man that resembled the chanting of the dead.""","He stopped playing for a moment and began to walk through his house like a madman. And he said aloud, in a resounding voice: “All this must be finished before! Well done!""",1,0.5726033,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 It has been so long since this happened that I cannot say with certainty whether he really wept, or whether he merely wiped his eyes; I take care that you only dried them. When I looked at Capitu again, I saw that she was completely still, and became so frightened that I shook her gently. She came back to the surface and asked me to tell her again what had happened with my mother. We slumped onto the sofa, and sat there staring into space. But I think that Capitu was looking inside herself, while I really was looking at the floor, the worm-eaten cracks, two flies crawling around, and a chipped chair-leg. It wasn’t much, but it took my mind off our troubles. Seeing the gesture, I took her by the hand to cheer her up, but I, too, needed cheering. I did as she asked, toning the story down this time, so as not to upset her. I did the same thing, as soon as I saw her doing so … I’m lying: she was staring at the floor. Call me not disingenuous, call me compassionate; It is true that I was afraid of losing Capitu if all her hopes died, but it pained me to see her suffer. Now, the ultimate truth, the truth of truths, is that I already regretted having told my mother, before any effective work on the part of José Dias; on closer inspection, I had not wanted to hear a disillusionment that I believed to be correct, even if it took a long time. Capitu reflected, reflected, reflected…","Seeing her gesture, I took her hand to cheer her up, but I too needed to be cheered up. We fell down on the settee and stared into the air. I lie; she was looking at the floor. I did the same, as soon as I saw her like this… But I think Capitu was looking inside herself, while I was really looking at the floor, the gnawed crevices, two flies walking and a chipped chair leg. It was little, but it distracted me from the affliction. When I looked at Capitu again, I saw that she was not moving, and I was so afraid that I shook her gently. Capitu came back outside and asked me to tell him again what had happened with my mother. I satisfied her, softening the text this time, so as not to upset her.",1,0.5726033,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 All this talk and discussion, however, brought about the most beneficent consequences, such as Chichikov could hardly have expected—to wit, rumors spread that he was no more and no less than a millionaire. The citizens of this town had, even without this, as we have already seen in the first chapter, come to love Chichikov with all their hearts, and now, after such rumors, they came to love him with their hearts and souls both. However, if the truth were told, they were all kindhearted folk; they lived in concord among themselves, treating one another like perfect friends, and their conversations bore the impress of a certain peculiar simple-heartedness and intimacy: “My dear friend Ilia Ilich!”; “I say, brother Antipator Zakharievich!”; “Youve gotten all tangled up in your lies, Ivan Grigorievich, my little darling!” In the case of the Postmaster, whose name was Ivan Andreevich, they always tacked on the tag: “Sprechen Sie Deutsch?”—thus: “Sprechen Sie Deutsch, Ivan Andreich?”3 In short, everything was on a very homey footing. Many of them were not without culture: the Chairman of the Administrative Offices knew the Liudmila of Zhukovskii by heart—which poem was at that time a novelty hot off the presses—and recited many passages in a masterly fashion, especially: “Sleeps the pine grove; the dale slumbers “and when he came to “Hush!” he would pronounce it in such a way that one really seemed to see the dale slumbering; for the sake of greater verisimilitude he would at this point even half-shut his eyes.4 The Postmaster went in more for philosophy and read quite diligently, even burning the midnight oil—such things as Young’s Night Thoughts and Eckartshausen’s The Key to the Mysteries of Nature, from both of which he copied quite lengthy excerpts, but no one knew of just what nature these excerpts were.5 He was a wit, however, colorful in his choice of words, and fond, as he himself put it, of “garnishing” his speech. And the way he garnished his speech was through a multiplicity of sundry tag-ends and oddments of phrases, such as “my dear sir,” “some sort of a fellow,” “you know,” “you understand,” “you can just imagine,” “relatively speaking, so to say,” “in a sort of a way,” and other such verbal small change, which he poured out by the bagful; he also garnished his speech, quite successfully, by blinking one eye or puckering it up, all of which added quite a caustic air to many of his satirical innuendoes. The others were also more or less enlightened folk; this one would read Karamzin, that one the Moscow News, while a third, perhaps, even read nothing whatsoever.6 One might be what is called a “paper bag”—that is, a man who has to be kicked in the behind to arouse him to anything; another simply a solitary sluggard, who, as they say, lies abed all his life long, whom it would be even no use to arouse, he’d simply roll over on the other side. In terms of comeliness we have already seen that they were all solid people; there wasn’t a single consumptive among them. All the men were of the sort upon whom their wives, during the tender talks that take place in privacy, bestow pet names, such as Dumpling, Chubby, Tummy, Blackie, Kiki, Zuzu, and the like. But, in general, they were a kindly folk and full of hospitality, and a man who had partaken of their bread and salt or had sat through an evening of whist with them already became something near and dear to them; all the more so a Chichikov, with his enchanting qualities and ways, who really knew the great secret of making oneself liked. They fell in love with him to such an extent that he could not see any means of tearing himself out of the town; he never heard anything but: “There, one short week more, stay with us for just one short week more, Pavel Ivanovich!” In short, they simply dandled him like a baby, to use the common expression. But incomparably more remarkable was the impression (truly a matter to marvel at!) which Chichikov made on the ladies. In order to explain this, to however slight an extent, it would be necessary to say a great deal about the ladies themselves, about their society, to describe in living pigments, as the phrase goes, their spiritual qualities; but all that is a very difficult thing for the author. On the one hand he is held back by his boundless respect for the spouses of dignitaries, while on the other hand ... on the other hand it is simply a difficult thing to do. The ladies in the town of N-were . .. no, I simply can’t do it , I really do feel a certain timidity. The most remarkable thing about the ladies of the town of N-was ... Why, it’s actually odd , my quill absolutely refuses to rise, just as if it were loaded with lead or something. So be it, then: the description of their characters will evidently have to be left to him whose pigments are more vivid—and who has a greater variety of them on his palette; as for us, we’ll simply have to say a word or two, perhaps, about their appearance and about that which is rather superficial. The ladies of the town of N-were what is called presentable, and in this respect they might be boldly held up as an example to all others. When it came to such things as deportment, keeping up the tone, observing etiquette, as well as a multitude of the most refined proprieties, and particularly following the mode down to its very least trifles—why, in such things they were far ahead of the ladies of even St. Petersburg and Moscow. They dressed with great taste and drove about town in their carriages, as the latest fashion decreed, with a footman always swaying behind, and the livery on him all gold galloons. The visiting card, even if one were forced to improvise one out of a deuce of clubs or an ace of diamonds, was nevertheless a very sacred thing. Because of just such a thing, two of the ladies, not only great friends but actually relatives, broke off their friendship for good and all; to be precise, one of them had failed to make a contre-visite. And no matter how hard their husbands and male kindred strove afterward to reconcile them, it was no go; it turned out that one can accomplish all things in this world, save one alone: the reconciliation of two ladies who have fallen out over a neglected return call. And so both ladies remained “mutually disinclined,” to use an expression current in the grand monde of the town. The matter of precedence at social functions also brought about a great many quite stirring scenes, which at times inspired the husbands with perfectly chivalric and magnanimous notions of knight-errantry. No duels, of course, took place among them, inasmuch as all of them were Civil Service officials, but to make up for that each would try to pull some dirty trick on the other wherever and whenever possible, which, as everybody knows, can on occasion inflict greater damage than any duel. When it came to morals, the ladies of the town of N-were strict, filled with noble indignation against vice of any sort and temptations of every sort, punishing frailties without any mercy. But if what is known as “a thing or two” did occur among them, it occurred in secret, so that there was no hint whatsoever given of what was going on; propriety was entirely preserved, and the husband himself had been so well trained that, even if he did happen to catch a glimpse of “this and that,” or heard about it, he would answer succinctly and sensibly with the proverb: “He that would live at Peace and Rest, must hear and see, and say the Best,” or “Evil to him who evil thinks. ” It must also be said that the ladies of the town of N-were distinguished, like many ladies in St. Petersburg, by an unusual fastidiousness and decorum in their choice of words and expressions. Never did they say: “I blew my nose; I sweated; I spat”; instead they said: “I relieved my nose; I had to use my handkerchief.” One could not, under any circumstances, say: “This glass (or this plate) stinks,” and one could not even say anything that would give a hint of this, but instead of that they would say: “This glass is misbehaving,” or something else of that sort. In order to ennoble the Russian language still more, almost half the words therein were utterly rejected in conversation, and for that reason they frequently had to resort to the French language; also, to make up for their nicety in Russian, things were altogether different when it came to French—words far coarser than any of the examples given above were perfectly propre therein. And there you have whatever can be said (speaking quite superficially, of course) about the ladies of the town of N-. But if one were to look below the surface then, naturally, many other things would be revealed; however, it’s quite dangerous to look below the surface of feminine hearts. And so, limiting ourselves to superficiality in this case, let’s be getting on. Up to now the ladies had somehow discussed Chichikov but little, giving him his full due, however, for having such agreeable social graces. But once rumors began to spread about his millionairehood, they began finding many other good points about him. However, the ladies were not at all avaricious schemers: the fault of the whole thing lay in the very word millionaire—not in the millionaire himself but precisely in the very word, because the very sound of the word contains, outside of any vision of moneybags, a something that has an effect not only on men who are scoundrels but on men who are fine by nature, to say nothing of men who are neither one thing nor another; in a word, it has an effect on everybody. The millionaire has one great advantage: he can witness meanness that is utterly disinterested, meanness pure and unadulterated, meanness not based upon any ulterior motives whatsoever; many know very well that they won t get a thing out of him and that they aren’t entitled to anything, yet they’ll never fail at least to catch his eye, or to laugh ingratiatingly, or to doff their hats, or to wangle an invitation to the dinner to which, as they have learned, the millionaire has been invited. It can’t be said that this tender predisposition to meanness had been experienced by the ladies; however, in many of the drawing rooms they began saying that while Chichikov was not, of course, the handsomest of men, he was, just the same, all that a man should be, that were he but a little fatter (or stouter, rather) it would be a pity. In connection with this something would be said, even quite offensively somehow, concerning the man who was decidedly thin, that he was something in the nature of a toothpick rather than a man. Many and sundry additional touches appeared on the attire of the ladies. There was a great stir at the shopping arcade, almost a crush. There was something very like a parade of carriages, so many of them had gathered there. The merchants were amazed to see several bolts of goods they had brought home from the fair, and which had been left on their hands because the price had seemed high, now suddenly become all the rage and almost snatched out of their hands. During mass one of the ladies was seen with such a rouleau or hoop at the bottom of her dress that made it spread out over half the church, so that a policeman who was near by had to issue orders for the commoner folk to move back— nearer to the porch, that is—lest Her Highness’ raiment be rumpled somehow. And as for Chichikov himself, he could not but notice, if only in part, such unusual attentiveness. On one occasion when he came home, he found a letter on his table. Whence it had come and who had brought it he could not find out; the tavern waiter remarked that someone had brought it but had not wanted to say whom it was from. What is the world? then something was said about a mysterious affinity of souls; this truth was confirmed by a number of dots which filled up half a line. Then followed several reflections so remarkable for their justice, that we feel it almost essential to quote them: “What is our life? The letter began with great determination, in these words in fact: “Yes, I must write to you!” A vale in which grief has taken up its abode. An insensate human herd.” Next the fair writer mentioned that she was bedewing with tears certain lines written by her angelic mother—five-and-twenty years had gone since she had passed from this world; she called on Chichikov to come out into the wilderness, to leave forever the city, where people in stifling enclosures cannot breathe the free air; the end of the letter even echoed downright despair and concluded with the following lines:","The letter began in very positive terms, precisely as follows: “No, I really must write you!” After that it went on to say that there is such a thing as a secret affinity between souls; this verity was clinched with a number of full stops that took up almost half a line. Then followed a few thoughts, quite remarkable for their incontrovertibility, so that we deem it almost indispensable to make an abstract of them: “What is our life? A vale of sorrows. What is the world?",1,0.57320064,1
+"lexical = 80, order = 80 It was from that evening on that Captain J. van Toch's behaviour became so strange. He did not return to the village until dawn; said not a word to anyone but merely had himself taken back to the ship, where he locked himself in his cabin until evening. Nobody thought this very odd as the Kandong Bandoeng had some of the blessings of Tana Masa to load on board (copra, pepper, camphor, guttapercha, palm oil, tobacco and labourers); but that evening, when they went to tell him that everything had been loaded, he just snorted and said, “Boat. To the village.” And he did not return until dawn. Jensen the Swede, who helped him back on board, merely asked him politely whether they would be setting sail that day. The captain turned on him as if he had just been knifed in the back. “And what's it to you?” he snapped. “You mind your own damned business!” All that day the Kandong Bandoeng lay at anchor off the coast of Tana Masa and did nothing. In the evening the captain rolled out of his cabin and ordered, “Boat. To the village.” Zapatis, the little Greek, stared at him with his one blind eye and the other eye squinting. “Look at this lads,” he crowed, “either the old mans got some girl or he's gone totally mad.” Jensen the Swede scowled. “And what's it to you?” he snapped at Zapatis. “You mind your own damned business!” Then he and the Icelander Gudmundson took a small boat and rowed toward Devil Bay. They stayed in the boat behind the rocks and waited to see what would happen. The captain came across the bay and seemed to be waiting for someone; he stopped for a while and called out something like ts-ts-ts. “Look at this,” said Gudmundson, pointing to the sea which now glittered red and gold in the sunset. Jensen counted two, three, four, six fins, as sharp as little scythes, which glided across Devil Bay. “Oh God,” grumbled Jensen, “there are sharks here!” When, shortly afterwards, one of the little scythes submerged, a tail swished out above the water and created a violent eddy. At this, Captain J. van Toch on the shore began to jump up and down in fury, issued a gush of curses and threatened the sharks with his fist. Then the short tropical twilight was over and the light of the moon shone over the island; Jensen took the oars and rowed the boat to within a furlong of the shore. Now the captain was sitting on a rock calling ts-ts-ts. Nearby something moved, but it was not possible to see exactly what. It looks like a seal, thought Jensen, but seals don't move like that. It came out of the water between the rocks and pattered along the beach, swaying from side to side like a penguin. Jensen quietly rowed in and stopped half a furlong away from the captain. Yes, the captain was saying something, but the Devil knew what it was; he must have been speaking in Tamil or Malay. He opened his hands wide as if about to throw something to these seals (although Jensen was now sure they were not seals), and all the time babbling his Chinese or Malay. Just then the raised oar slipped out of Jensen's hand and fell in the water with a splash. The captain lifted his head, got up and walked about thirty paces into the water; there was a sudden flashing and banging; the captain was shooting with his browning in the direction of the boat. Almost simultaneously there was a rustling and a splashing in the bay as, with a whirl of activity, it seemed as if a thousand seals were jumping into the water; but Jensen and Gudmundson were already pressing on the oars and driving the boat so hard that it swished through the water until it was behind the nearest corner. When they got back to the ship they said not a word to anyone. The northern races know how to keep silent. In the morning the captain returned; he was angry and unhappy, but said nothing. Only, when Jensen helped him on board both men gave each other a cold and inquisitive look.","As I said, my mind was made up. I would sign him on as secretary on some ocean-going ship and, without giving him any advance warning, have him picked up one fine morning and carried on board. In this way, if I recommended him to the captain, he would be entirely responsible for his own future.",0,0.5354932,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 Well, goodbye! How I have prattled on! When I’m sad I like to prattle about nothing in particular. It’s a kind of medicine: I at once feel better, especially if I am able to talk about everything that is in my heart. Goodbye, goodbye, my friend!","The elder Miss Wang was a very straightforward young lady, very easy to get on with, and not at all high and mighty. She’s now the wife of the younger of the two Sir Jias in the Rong mansion. They say that now she’s getting on in years she’s grown even more charitable and given to good works than she was as a girl. Her brother has been promoted; but I shouldn’t be surprised if she at least didn’t still remember us. Why don’t you try your luck with her? You never know, she might do something for you for the sake of old times.",0,0.53540206,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 He was in his gayest mood, and made all sorts of jesting allusions as he performed the introductions—for example, he called Naphta “princeps scholasticorum.” The gentlemen knew he had a certain grudge against life up here often enough he had railed against it!—All honour, then, to the mountain spring! Joy, he said, quoting Aretine, held brilliant court within his, Settembrini’s, breast; a joy due to the blessing of the springtime—to which commend him. All the disquieting, provocative elements of spring in the valley were here lacking: here were no seething depths, no steaming air, no oppressive humidity! It was enough of itself to atone for all the horrors of the place. Only dryness, clarity, a serene and piercing charm.","The nutmeg, with which they are in the habit of stuffing their crops, flavors their flesh and renders it delicious eating.",0,0.5347036,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 100 , I just left dead or alive.",I had been bidden.,1,0.5742157,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 Very early in the morning the hubbub begins, people moving about, walking, knocking—everyone who has to is getting up, some to go to the office, others about their own business; they all begin drinking tea. The samovars for the most part belong to the landlady; there are few of them, so we all use them in turn, and if anyone goes with his teapot out of his turn, he catches it. I, for instance, the first time made that mistake, and .. but why describe it? I made the acquaintance of everyone at once. The naval man was the first I got to know; he is such an open fellow, told me everything: about his father and mother, about his sister married to an assessor in Tula, and about the town of Kronstadt. He promised to protect me and at once invited me to tea with him. I found him in the room where they usually play cards. There they gave me tea and were very insistent that I should play a game of chance with them. Whether they were laughing at me or not I don’t know, but they were losing the whole night and they were still playing when I went away. Chalk, cards—and the room so full of smoke that it made my eyes smart. I did not play and they at once observed that I was talking of philosophy. After that no one said another word to me the whole time; but to tell the truth I was glad of it. I am not going to see them now; it’s gambling with them, pure gambling. The clerk in the literary department has little gatherings in the evening, too. Well, there it is nice, quiet, harmless and delicate; everything is on a refined footing.","Here I was for the first time, yes ... however, what to write! That's where I met everyone. I met the midshipman first; such a frank one, he told me everything: about the father, about the mother, about the sister, about the Tula assessor, and about the city of Kronstadt. He promised to patronize me in everything and immediately invited me to his place for tea.",1,0.57427543,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 - Then what, sir! Here I lie and hear as if the master cried out. And Grigory Vasilich before that suddenly got up and went out and suddenly screamed, and then everything was quiet, darkness. I’m lying, waiting, my heart is beating, I can’t stand it. I got up at last and went, sir - I see the window to the left in their garden is unlocked, and I took another step to the left, sir, to listen to whether they were sitting there or not, and I heard that the master was rushing about and groaning, so he was alive -With. Eh, I think! He went to the window, shouted to the master: ""It's me, they say. "" And he told me: ""I was, I was, I ran away!"" That is, Dmitry Fyodorovich, so there were, sir. "" Gregory killed!"" - ""Where? "" I whisper to him. “There, in the corner,” he points out, whispers himself. “Wait,” I say. I went into a corner to look for him and at the wall on Grigory Vasilyevich, lying and stumbled upon, lying covered in blood, feeling insensible. Therefore, it is true that Dmitry Fyodorovich was there, jumped into my head and immediately decided to end it all suddenly, sir, since if Grigory Vasilievich were still alive, then lying in insensibility until they saw anything. There was only one risk, sir, that Marfa Ignatievna would suddenly wake up. I felt it at that moment, only this thirst took me all over, and even the spirit was engaged. I came again under the window to the master and said: ""She is here, she has come, Agrafena Alexandrovna has come, she is asking."" So, after all, the whole shuddered, like a baby: “Where is it here? Where?"" - and sighs, but he still does not believe. ""There, I say, stands, unlock!"" He looks at me out of the window and believes and does not believe, but he is afraid to open, this is really afraid of me, I think. And it’s funny: all of a sudden I thought of tapping these same signs on the frame, that Grushenka, they say, had come, in front of them: it was as if I didn’t believe the words, but as I tapped the signs, they immediately ran to open the door. ... They opened it. I walked in, and he was standing there, with his body and not letting everything in. "" Where is she, where is she?"" - looks at me and trembles. Well, I think: since she's so afraid of me, it's bad! and then my legs even weakened from fear that he would not let me into the rooms, or would shout, or if Marfa Ignatievna would come running, or whatever would come out, I don't remember then, he himself must be pale before him stood. I whisper to him: ""Yes, there, there she is under the window, how could you, I say, did not see?"" - ""And you bring her, and you bring her!"" - ""Yes, I'm afraid, I say, scared screaming, hid in a bush, go shout, I say, from the office yourself."" He ran, went to the window, put a candle on the window. "" Grushenka, shouts, Grushenka, are you here?"" He’s screaming himself, but he doesn’t want to bend through the window, doesn’t want to move away from me, from this very fear, because he was very afraid of me, and therefore does not dare to move away from me. "" Yes, there she is, I say (I went up to the window, leaned out myself), there she is in the bush, laughing at you, see?"" Suddenly he believed, and he began to shake, painfully they were in love with her, sir, and all and leaned out the window. I just grabbed this very iron paperweight, on their table, remember, sir, it will be three pounds in it, I swung it, but behind it in the very crown of the corner. Didn't even shout. He only sank down suddenly, and I hit him again and a third time. And the third time I knew I'd broken his skull. I went out into the garden all of a tremble, straight to the apple-tree with a hollow in it--you know that hollow. I looked round. There was no blood on me, not a spot. I wiped the paper-weight, put it back, went up to the ikons, took the money out of the envelope, and flung the envelope on the floor and the pink ribbon beside it. He suddenly rolled on his back, face upwards, covered with blood. I'd marked it long before and put a rag and a piece of paper ready in it. I wrapped all the notes in the rag and stuffed it deep down in the hole. So she stayed there for more than two weeks, the amount was the same, sir, then after the hospital I took it out. I went back to my bed, lay down and thought in fear: “If Grigory Vasilyevich is killed at all, then very bad things can happen, and if he is not killed and wakes up, then it will happen very well, because then they will be a witness that Dmitry Fedorovich came, and therefore they killed and took the money, sir. "" Then I began to moan out of hesitation and impatience, so that I could wake Marfa Ignatievna as soon as possible. She finally got up, was about to rush to me, but when she suddenly saw that Grigory Vasilyevich was not there, she ran out and, I hear, screamed in the garden. Well, then, sir, it all went on all night, I was already reassured in everything.","Only downstairs I suddenly sank, and I another time and a third. On the third, I felt that I had broken through. They suddenly fell on their backs and fell, face up, all covered in blood. I examined: there was no blood on me, it did not splash, wiped off the paperweight, put it down, went for the image, took out the money from the package, and threw the package on the floor and this pink ribbon beside it. I went into the garden, shaking all over. Straight to that apple tree with the hollow - you know that hollow, but I saw it a long time ago , there was already a rag and paper in it, I prepared it long ago; wrapped the whole amount in paper, and then in a rag and stuffed it deep.",1,0.57427543,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 ""Please don't cry, Frau Grubach,"" said K., looking out through the window, he was really thinking of Fräulein Bürstner and of the fact that she had taken a strange girl into her room. ""Please don't cry,"" he said again as he turned back to the room and found Frau Grubach still weeping. ""I didn't mean what I said so terribly seriously either. We misunderstood each other. That can happen occasionally even between old friends. "" Frau Grubach took her apron from her eyes to see whether K. were really appeased. "" Come now , that's all there was to it,"" said K., and then ventured to add, since to judge from Frau Grubach's expression her nephew the Captain could not have divulged anything: ""Do you really believe that I would turn against you because of a strange girl?"" ""That's just it, Herr K.,"" said Frau Grubach, it was her misfortune that as soon as she felt relieved in her mind she immediately said something tactless, ""I kept asking myself: Why should Herr K. bother himself so much about Fräulein Bürstner? Why should he quarrel with me because of her, though he knows that every cross word from him makes me lose my sleep? And I said nothing about the girl that I hadn't seen with my own eyes."" K. made no reply to this, he should have sent her from the room at the very first word, and he did not want to do that. asked K., pointing toward the door. Outside, the dragging steps of Fräulein Montag could be heard once more along the entire length of the hall. “Do you hear that?” He was content to drink his coffee and allow Frau Grubach to feel superfluous. "" Yes,"" said Frau Grubach, sighing, ""I offered to help her and to order the maid to help too, but she's self-willed, she insists on moving everything herself. I'm surprised at Fräulein Bürstner. I often regret having Fräulein Montag as a boarder, but now Fräulein Bürstner is actually taking her into her own room."" ""You mustn't worry about that,"" said K., crushing with the spoon the sugar left at the bottom of his cup. "" Does it mean any loss to you?"" ""No,"" said Frau Grubach, ""in itself it's quite welcome to me, I am left with an extra room, and I can put my nephew, the Captain, there. I've been bothered in case he might have disturbed you these last few days, for I had to let him occupy the living room next door. He's not very considerate."" ""What an idea !"" said K., getting up. ""There's no question of that. You really seem to think I'm hypersensitive because I can't stand Fräulein Montag's trailings to and fro -- there she goes again, coming back this time. "" Frau Grubach felt quite helpless. "" Shall I tell her, Herr K., to put off moving the rest of her things until later? If you like I'll do so at once."" ""But she's got to move into Fräulein Bürstner room ! "" cried K. "" Yes,"" said Frau Grubach, she could not quite make out what K. meant. "" Well then,"" said K., ""she must surely be allowed to shift her things there. "" Frau Grubach simply nodded. Her dumb helplessness, which outwardly had the look of simple obstinacy, exasperated K. still more. He began to walk up and down from the window to the door and back again, and by doing that he hindered Frau Grubach from being able to slip out of the room, which she would probably have done.","They've opened the door for you, now, said the gentleman, pointing at the door of the lawyer. He pulled his dressing gown together and disappeared. The door had indeed been opened, a young girl - K. recognised the dark, slightly bulging eyes - stood in the hallway in a long white apron, holding a candle in her hand. "" Next time, open up sooner!"" said K.'s uncle instead of a greeting, while the girl made a slight curtsey. "" Come along, Josef,"" he then said to K. who was slowly moving over towards the girl. "" Dr. Huld is unwell,"" said the girl as K.'s uncle, without stopping, rushed towards one of the doors. K. continued to look at the girl in amazement as she turned round to block the way into the living room, she had a round face like a puppy's, not only the pale cheeks and the chin were round but the temples and the hairline were too. "" Josef!"" called his uncle once more, and he asked the girl, ""It's trouble with his heart, is it?""",0,0.5343088,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 The remaining amount, a very considerable one, I decided I would try to borrow from my immediate superior, Anton Antonovich Setochkin, an unassuming but solid and worthy man who never lent money to anybody, but to whom I had been specially recommended when I entered the government service by the important personage who had procured the post for me. I was terribly worried. Asking Anton Antonovich for money seemed to me a monstrous and shameful thing. For two or three nights it even prevented me from sleeping, and indeed at that time I did not ever sleep much; I was in a turmoil, and my heartbeats now seemed to sink and die away, now became a heavy thumping and throbbing…. Anton Antonovich was taken aback at first, then he frowned on my request, then he thought better of it and made the loan in return for a receipt giving him the right to be repaid the sum he had lent me out of my salary in two weeks’ time. Thus at last everything was ready; the beautiful beaver collar reigned in the place of the vile raccoon, and I began a gradual approach to the deed itself. After all, I couldn’t just decide on the spur of the moment and at the first opportunity; this affair must be managed skilfully and by degrees. But I confess that after many vain efforts I was almost reduced to despair: we never should come into collision, that was flat! Once, when I wasn’t ready and had no plans made, it looked all at once as if we were on the point of colliding – and again I stood aside and he went past without even seeing me. I began putting up prayers every time I approached him that God would strengthen my resolution. Once, when I had definitely made my mind up, I ended by simply falling under his feet, because my courage failed in the very last second, when I was only about two inches away from him. He advanced calmly upon me and I rolled aside like a ball. That night I was again feverish and delirious. But suddenly everything ended in the best possible fashion. On the previous night I had definitely decided not to pursue an enterprise foredoomed to failure but to leave it unfulfilled, and with this in mind I went out to walk along the Nevsky Prospect for the last time, so as to see how it was I came to be leaving my purpose unfulfilled. Suddenly, three paces away from my adversary, I unexpectedly made up my mind, scowled fiercely, and… our shoulders came squarely into collision! I did not yield an inch, but walked past on an exactly equal footing! He did not even glance round, and pretended he had not noticed; but he was only pretending, I am certain of that. I am certain of it to this day! Of course I was the greatest sufferer, since he was the stronger; but that was not the point. The point was that I had achieved my purpose, preserved my dignity, yielded not a step, and placed myself publicly on an equal social footing with him. I returned home perfectly avenged for everything. I was delighted. I sang triumphant arias from the Italian operas. Of course I shall not describe what happened to me a couple of days later; if you have read my first chapter, ‘The Underground’, you will be able to guess for yourselves. – The officer was later transferred elsewhere; it is fourteen years since I last saw him. Where is he now, my darling officer? Whom is he trampling down now?","Little by little I overcame his reserve, but found that each of these conversations left me filled with a sense of vexation at myself. At the same time, I could see with secret joy and a sense of proud elation that I was leading him to forget his tiresome books. At last the conversation turned jestingly upon the upsetting of the shelf. The moment was a peculiar one, for it came upon me just when I was in the right mood for self-revelation and candour. In my ardour, my curious phase of exaltation, I found myself led to make a full confession of the fact that I had become wishful to learn, to KNOW, something, since I had felt hurt at being taken for a chit, a mere baby.... I repeat that that night I was in a very strange frame of mind. My heart was inclined to be tender, and there were tears standing in my eyes. Nothing did I conceal as I told him about my friendship for him, about my desire to love him, about my scheme for living in sympathy with him and comforting him, and making his life easier. In return he threw me a look of confusion mingled with astonishment, and said nothing.",0,0.53397465,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 Listen: They came for me in the morning when I was still in bed. Maybe the order had been given to arrest some house painter—that seems possible after what the judge has said—someone who is as innocent as I am, but it was me they chose. They could not have taken better precautions if I had been a dangerous robber. And these policemen were unprincipled riff-raff, they talked at me till I was sick of it , they wanted bribes, they wanted to trick me into giving them my clothes, they wanted money, supposedly so that they could bring me my breakfast after they had blatantly eaten my own breakfast in front of my eyes. All that I want is a public discussion of a public wrong. There were two police thugs occupying the next room. ten days ago I was placed under arrest, the arrest itself is something I laugh about but that's beside the point. “I'm not trying to be a successful orator,” said K. after this thought, “that's probably more than I'm capable of anyway. I'm sure the examining judge can speak far better than I can , it is part of his job after all.","“I don’t seek success as an orator,” K. said with this in mind, “nor could I necessarily achieve it. The examining magistrate is no doubt a much better speaker; after all, it goes with his profession. What I seek is simply a public discussion of a public disgrace. Listen: Around ten days ago I was arrested; the arrest itself makes me laugh, but that’s another matter. I was assaulted in the morning in bed; perhaps they’d been ordered to arrest some house painter—that can’t be ruled out after what the examining magistrate has said—someone as innocent as I am, but they chose me. The room next door had been taken over by two coarse guards. If I had been a dangerous thief, they couldn’t have taken better precautions. These guards were corrupt ruffians as well; they talked my ear off, they wanted bribes, they tried to talk me out of my undergarments and clothes under false pretenses, they wanted money, supposedly to bring me breakfast, after they’d shamelessly eaten my own breakfast before my very eyes.",1,0.5749915,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 ‘It’s a smoky topaz,’ Nikolay Parfenovich smiled, ‘would you like to take a look, I’ll remove it …’ “Would you like to have a look at it? Shall I take it off?”","— Well, so what?",0,0.53339744,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 Then Balinkay walks up and down the table, glass in hand, drinking a separate toast with every one of us. Suddenly, feeling my neighbour nudge me hard, I meet a pair of bright grey eyes. “Hello there, friend!” Bemused, I return his nod, and only when Balinkay stops at the next man along do I realise that I forgot to clink glasses with him. But everything has already disappeared again in the colorful fog that mixes up faces and uniforms in such a strangely blurred way for me. Have the others already started to smoke that I suddenly feel so hot and stuffy? But as I reach into my pocket for the cigarette case, I feel the crackling under my skirt again: the letter! My hand jerks back. I down one, two, three glasses without knowing what I'm drinking. And quickly smoke something yourself! Drink something, drink quickly! Only the bitter, the usual away from the throat! Gosh - what's that blue smoke in front of my eyes all of a sudden? Once again, through the cheerful noise, I hear only the sobbing, pleading words: “I do know, what a mad delusion it would be to force myself on you …”","But it has all disappeared again into a multicoloured fog, through which I see faces and uniforms merging in a curious blur. Good heavens— what’s that blue mist in front of my eyes all of a sudden? Have the others already begun smoking, is that why I feel it’s so hot and stuffy in here? Quick, I must drink something. I gulp down the contents of one, two, three glasses without even knowing what is in them. I just have to rid my throat of that foul, bitter taste. And I must smoke a cigarette quickly myself. But when my hand goes to my pocket for my cigarette case, I feel the faint rustle of the letter again, and I snatch my hand back.",1,0.575588,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 “My dear Uncle,” said K., “it won't do any good to get excited , it's no good for you to do it and it'd be no good for me to do it. The case won't be won by getting excited, and please admit that my practical experience counts for something, just as I have always and still do respect your experience, even when it surprises me. You say that the family will also be affected by this trial; I really can't see how, but that's beside the point and I'm quite willing to follow your instructions in all of this. Only, I don't see any advantage in staying in the country, not even for you, as that would indicate flight and a sense of guilt. And besides, although I am more subject to persecution if I stay in the city I can also press the matter forward better here.” “You're right,” said his uncle in a tone that seemed to indicate they were finally coming closer to each other, “I just made the suggestion because, as I saw it, if you stay in the city the case will be put in danger by your indifference to it, and I thought it was better if I did the work for you. But will you push things forward yourself with all your strength, if so, that will naturally be far better.” “We're agreed then,” said K. “And do you have any suggestions for what I should do next?” “Well, naturally I'll have to think about it,” said his uncle, “you must bear in mind that I've been living in the country for twenty years now, almost without a break, you lose your ability to deal with matters like this. But I do have some important connections with several people who, I expect, know their way around these things better than I do, and to contact them is a matter of course. Out there in the country I've been getting out of condition, I'm sure you're already aware of that. It's only at times like this that you notice it yourself. And this affair of yours came largely unexpected, although, oddly enough, I had expected something of the sort after I'd read Erna's letter, and today when I saw your face I knew it with almost total certainty. But all that is by the by, the important thing now is, we have no time to lose.” Even while he was still speaking, K.'s uncle had stood on tiptoe to summon a taxi and now he pulled K. into the car behind himself as he called out an address to the driver. “We're going now to see Dr. Huld, the lawyer,” he said, “we were at school together. Do you know the name too? No? Well that is odd. He's got a very good reputation as a defence barrister and for working with the poor. But I esteem him especially as someone you can trust.” “It's alright with me, whatever you do,” said K., although he was made uneasy by the rushed and urgent way his uncle was dealing with the matter. It was not very encouraging, as the accused, be to taken to a lawyer for poor people. “I didn't know,” he said, “that you could take on a lawyer in matters like this.” “Well of course you can,” said his uncle, “that goes without saying. Why wouldn't you take on a lawyer? And now, so that I'm properly instructed in this matter, tell me what's been happening so far.” K. instantly began telling his uncle about what had been happening, holding nothing back—being completely open with him was the only way that K. could protest at his uncle's belief that the trial was a great disgrace. He mentioned Miss Borstner's name just once and in passing, but that did nothing to diminish his openness about the trial as Miss Borstner had no connection with it. As he spoke, he looked out the window and saw how, just then, they were getting closer to the suburb where the court offices were. He drew this to his uncle's attention, but he did not find the coincidence especially remarkable. The taxi stopped in front of a dark building. K.'s uncle knocked at the very first door at ground level; while they waited he smiled, showing his big teeth, and whispered, “Eight o'clock; not the usual sort of time to be visiting a lawyer, but Huld won't mind it from me.” Two large, black eyes appeared in the spy-hatch in the door, they stared at the two visitors for a while and then disappeared; the door, however, did not open. K. and his uncle confirmed to each other the fact that they had seen the two eyes. “A new maid, afraid of strangers,” said K.'s uncle, and knocked again. The eyes appeared once more. This time they seemed almost sad, but the open gas flame that burned with a hiss close above their heads gave off little light and that may have merely created an illusion. “Open the door,” called K.'s uncle, raising his fist against it, “we are friends of Dr. Huld, the lawyer!” “Dr. Huld is ill,” whispered someone behind them. In a doorway at the far end of a narrow passage stood a man in his dressing gown, giving them this information in an extremely quiet voice. K.'s uncle, who had already been made very angry by the long wait, turned abruptly round and retorted, “Ill? You say he's ill?” and strode towards the gentleman in a way that seemed almost threatening, as if he were the illness himself. “They've opened the door for you, now,” said the gentleman, pointing at the door of the lawyer. He pulled his dressing gown together and disappeared. The door had indeed been opened, a young girl—K. recognised the dark, slightly bulging eyes—stood in the hallway in a long white apron, holding a candle in her hand. “Next time, open up sooner!” said K.'s uncle instead of a greeting, while the girl made a slight curtsey. “Come along, Josef,” he then said to K. who was slowly moving over towards the girl. “Mr. Huld is unwell,” said the girl as K.'s uncle, without stopping, rushed towards one of the doors. K. continued to look at the girl in amazement as she turned round to block the way into the living room, she had a round face like a puppy's, not only the pale cheeks and the chin were round but the temples and the hairline were too. “Josef!” called his uncle once more, and he asked the girl, “It's trouble with his heart, is it?” “I think it is, sir,” said the girl, who by now had found time to go ahead with the candle and open the door into the room. In one corner of the room, where the light of the candle did not reach, a face with a long beard looked up from the bed. “Leni, who's this coming in?” asked the lawyer, unable to recognise his guests because he was dazzled by the candle. “It's your old friend, Albert,” said K.'s uncle. “Oh, Albert,” said the lawyer, falling back onto his pillow as if this visit meant he would not need to keep up appearances. “Is it really as bad as that?” asked K.'s uncle, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I don't believe it is. It's a recurrence of your heart trouble and it'll pass over like the other times.” “Maybe,” said the lawyer quietly, “but it's just as much trouble as it's ever been. I can hardly breathe , I can't sleep at all and I'm getting weaker by the day.” “I see,” said K.'s uncle, pressing his panama hat firmly against his knee with his big hand. “That is bad news. But are you getting the right sort of care? And it's so depressing in here , it's so dark. It's a long time since I was last here, but it seemed to me friendlier then. Even your young lady here doesn't seem to have much life in her, unless she's just pretending.” The maid was still standing by the door with the candle; as far as could be made out, she was watching K. more than she was watching his uncle even while the latter was still speaking about her. K. leant against a chair that he had pushed near to the girl. “When you're as ill as I am,” said the lawyer, “you need to have peace. I don't find it depressing.” After a short pause he added, “and Leni looks after me well , she's a good girl.” But that was not enough to persuade K.'s uncle, he had visibly taken against his friend's carer and, even though he did not contradict the invalid, he persecuted her with his scowl as she went over to the bed, put the candle on the bedside table and, leaning over the bed, made a fuss of him by tidying the pillows. K.'s uncle nearly forgot the need to show any consideration for the man who lay ill in bed, he stood up, walked up and down behind the carer, and K. would not have been surprised if he had grabbed hold of her skirts behind her and dragged her away from the bed. K. himself looked on calmly, he was not even disappointed at finding the lawyer unwell, he had been able to do nothing to oppose the enthusiasm his uncle had developed for the matter, he was glad that this enthusiasm had now been distracted without his having to do anything about it. His uncle, probably simply wishing to be offensive to the lawyer's attendant, then said, “Young lady, now please leave us alone for a while, I have some personal matters to discuss with my friend.” Dr. Huld's carer was still leant far over the invalid's bed and smoothing out the cloth covering the wall next to it, she merely turned her head and then, in striking contrast with the anger that first stopped K.'s uncle from speaking and then let the words out in a gush, she said very quietly, “You can see that Dr. Huld is so ill that he can't discuss any matters at all.” It was probably just for the sake of convenience that she had repeated the words spoken by K.'s uncle, but an onlooker might even have perceived it as mocking him and he, of course, jumped up as if he had just been stabbed. “You damned ... ,” in the first gurglings of his excitement his words could hardly be understood, K. was startled even though he had been expecting something of the sort and ran to his uncle with the intention, no doubt, of closing his mouth with both his hands. Fortunately, though, behind the girl, the invalid raised himself up, K.'s uncle made an ugly face as if swallowing something disgusting and then, somewhat calmer, said, “We have naturally not lost our senses, not yet; if what I am asking for were not possible I would not be asking for it. Now please, go!” The carer stood up straight by the bed directly facing K.'s uncle, K. thought he noticed that with one hand she was stroking the lawyer's hand. “You can say anything in front of Leni,” said the invalid, in a tone that was unmistakably imploring. “It's not my business,” said K.'s uncle, “and it's not my secrets.” And he twisted himself round as if wanting to go into no more negotiations but giving himself a little more time to think. “Whose business is it then?” asked the lawyer in an exhausted voice as he leant back again. “My nephew's,” said K.'s uncle, “ and I've brought him along with me.” And he introduced him, “Chief Clerk Josef K.” “Oh!” said the invalid, now with much more life in him, and reached out his hand towards K. “Do forgive me, I didn't notice you there at all.” Then he then said to his carer, “Leni, go,” stretching his hand out to her as if this were a farewell that would have to last for a long time. This time the girl offered no resistance. “So you,” he finally said to K.'s uncle, who had also calmed down and stepped closer, “you haven't come to visit me because I'm ill but you've come on business.”","I'm sure you know the name, don't you?",1,0.5759458,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 He does not therefore only remains to add two words: ""mores"" after the word ""agent"" and that's it. ""The Sieur Duroy, of La Vie Française, gives us a denial; and, in denying us, he is lying. He admits, however, that there is a woman Aubert, and that an agent has taken her to the police. ","In the little world of Digne, Member of the Convention G was spoken of with a kind of horror. A member of the Convention! Can you imagine! That went back to the days when all forms of respect were abandoned and everyone was addressed as ‘citizen’. This man was almost a monster. He did not vote for the king’s death, but little short of it. He was all but a regicide.",0,0.53291136,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 Heaven and earth, thank you! I am happy! .. You gave me everything, everything that my excited spirit aspired to from adolescence. So this is where you led me, my guiding star; so that's why you brought me here, beyond the Stone Belt! I will show my Zyuleika to the whole world, and people, rabid monsters, will not dare to accuse me! Oh, if they understand these secret sufferings of her tender soul, if they are able to see a whole poem in one tear of my Zyuleika! Oh, let me wipe away this tear with kisses , let me drink it, this heavenly tear ... unearthly! ","O, let me brush away that tear with kisses, let me drink it, that divine tear… woman not of this world!’",1,0.57624394,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 60 “Yes, I am very much in my right mind, and that’s the trouble, because my right mind is just as vile as yours and anyone else’s—because just look at all those mugs!” Ivan cried, glaring around at the public. “A father has been killed and they pretend they’re shocked!” he snarled with immense loathing. “They’re putting it all on for each other’s benefit. The liars! They all long for their father’s death, because one beast devours another . If there hadn't been a murder, they'd have been angry and gone home ill-humored. One reptile devours another.... . . A circus! That’s what they want, bread and circuses! But I myself, I haven’t got so much to brag about either! Do you have any water here? Give me a drink, for heaven’s sake!” Ivan suddenly seized his head in his hands.",". . If it were proved here that no parricide had been committed, they would be angry and would leave terribly disappointed .",1,0.5768847,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 For a moment he found himself talking loudly. Since the breach was still there, he would join Albine at sunset. He felt a little annoyed at this decision. But he didn't think he could do otherwise. She was waiting for him, she was his wife. When he wanted to evoke his face, he only saw it very pale, very distant. Then he was worried about how they would live together. It would be difficult for them to stay in the country; they would have to flee, without anyone suspecting it; then, once hidden somewhere, they would need a lot of money to be happy. Twenty times, he tried to stop a kidnapping plan, to arrange their existence as happy lovers. He found nothing. Now that desire no longer maddened him, the practical side of the situation terrified him, confronting him with his feeble hands with a complicated task, of which he did not know the first word. Where would they take horses to save themselves? If they went on foot, would they not be arrested like vagabonds? Besides, would he be capable of being employed, of discovering some occupation whatever which could provide bread for his wife? He had never been taught these things. He was ignorant of life; he found, in searching his memory, nothing but scraps of prayer, details of ceremonial, pages of the Instruction theologique, of Bouvier, learned by heart in the seminary. Even unimportant things embarrassed him a lot. He wondered if he would dare to give his wife his arm in the street. Certainly he couldn't walk with a woman on his arm. He would seem so clumsy, the world would turn upside down. We would guess a priest, we would insult Albine. Vainly he would try to wash away the priesthood, he would always carry with him the sad pallor, the smell of incense. He felt a strange repugnance at the very idea. And what if he should have children some day? As this thought suddenly occurred to him, he quite started. He thought he wouldn't like them. However, there were two of them, a little boy and a little girl. He pushed them away from his knees, suffering from feeling their hands resting on his clothes, not taking the joy of other fathers to blow them. He did not get used to this flesh of his flesh, which always seemed to him to sweat his impurity as a man. The little girl especially disturbed him, with her large eyes, in the depths of which already shone the tenderness of a woman. But no, he would not have children, he would avoid the horror he felt at the idea of seeing his limbs grow back and live again forever. So the hope of being impotent was very sweet to him. No doubt all his manhood had gone during his long adolescence. That determined him. By evening he would flee with Albine.","All she had left was fifty copecks, and it was still ten days to the first of the month, when her brother gave her the money.",0,0.5318173,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 ‘Do you think so?",said he—and now I am known everywhere by this name of “Lovelace.”,0,0.53157413,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 40 The walker held the luggage with one hand and pressed the other hand against the man, but he couldn't hold it no matter how he faltered. "" , there was twisting, but it was like an iron jacket clamped, so angry that he lost his baggage, put aside his umbrella, and with both hands, raindrops seemed to catch the traveler. The parents can't bear the suffocation, and bumping into this bald head again, get his breath! The walker is more and more insistent, and the urgency is explosive. "" Scrambling! Sanzang said: ""Wukong, there is no one here? "" The walker said: ""You have the ability, split my hand, and you will go. The man twisted from side to side.","They’re a bit of a giveaway.” Monkey then shuffled over to the kitchen to rub his bottom against the charcoal burned onto the base of a pot while Pigsy giggled some more. Monkey now plotted to take back the treasures. “Monkey has frayed that Golden Rope,” the Monkey-goblin informed the kings. “How about I replace it with something thicker?” “Good idea,” responded the demon, undoing a lion-buckled belt and handing it to the fake goblin. Monkey reattached his phony self to the pillar with the belt, slipped the Golden Rope up his sleeve, and turned another hair into a fake Golden Rope, which he handed back to the demon. Busy guzzling wine, the demon put it away without noticing. Now in possession of one of the treasures, Monkey sprang out of the cave door and changed back to his true form. “Fiends!”",1,0.57731664,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 La Faloise laughed silly, sucking the apple of his cane. But one evening there was only a little wood left. It didn't matter, it was candy. She swallowed it with a look of disdain, because it wasn't even worth opening her mouth. Debt crushed him, he no longer had an income of a hundred francs, he saw himself forced to return to the provinces to live with a maniacal uncle; but that didn't matter, he was chic, Le Figaro had printed his name twice; and, his thin neck between the turned-down points of his false collar, his waist broken under a jacket that was too short, he waddled about with the exclamations of a parakeet and the weariness affected by a wooden puppet who has never had an emotion.","That he was a serious man, Dr. Vilaça, measured and slow, forty-seven years old, married and father. I wasn't satisfied with the paper tail or the pigtail; it had to be worse.",0,0.5313918,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 The elderly lady bore the name of Princess Drubetskaya, one of the best families in Russia, but she was poor, long gone from the world and lost her former connections. She has come now to secure a position in the guards for her only son. It was, in fact, solely to meet Prince Vasili that she had obtained an invitation to Anna Pavlovna’s reception, and had sat listening to the vicomte’s story. Prince Vasili’s words frightened her, an embittered look clouded her once handsome face, but only for a moment; then she smiled again and clutched Prince Vasili’s arm more tightly. ","Only then, in order to see Prince Vasily, did she name herself and come to Anna Pavlovna's for the evening, only then did she listen to the history of the viscount. She was frightened by the words of Prince Vasily; her once beautiful face expressed anger, but this lasted only a minute. She smiled again and gripped Prince Vasili more firmly by the arm.",1,0.57773364,1
+"lexical = 80, order = 40 He began, angrily: “What were you about, sir? Where were your eyes? The copy was wanted; it was wanted in a hurry, and you spoil it.” At this point, his Excellency turned toYevstafy Ivanovitch. I could only catch a word here and there: “Negligence! Carelessness! You will get us into difficulties!” I would have opened my mouth to say something. I wanted to beg for forgiveness, but I could not; I wanted to run away, but dared not attempt it, and then ... then, Varinka, something happened so awful that I can hardly hold my pen, for shame, even now. A button—the devil take the button—which was hanging by a thread on my uniform—suddenly flew off, bounced on the floor (I must have caught hold of it accidentally) with a jingle, the damned thing, and rolled straight to his Excellency’s feet, and that in the midst of a profound silence! And that was my only justification, my sole apology, my only answer, all that I had to say to his Excellency! What followed was awful. His Excellency’s attention was at once turned to my appearance and my attire. I remembered what I had seen in the looking-glass; I flew to catch the button! Some idiocy possessed me! I bent down, I tried to pick up the button—it twirled and rolled, I couldn’t pick it up—in fact, I distinguished myself by my agility. Then I felt that my last faculties were deserting me, that everything, everything was lost, my whole reputation was lost, my dignity as a man was lost, and then, apropos of nothing, I had the voices ofTeresa and Faldoni ringing in my ears. At last I picked up the button, stood up and drew myself erect, and if I were a fool I might at least have stood quietly with my hands at my sides! But not a bit of it. I began fitting the button to the torn threads as though it might hang on, and I actually smiled, actually smiled. His Excellency turned away at first, then he glanced at me again— I heard him say to Yevstafy Ivanovitch: “How is this? ... Look at him! ... What is he? ... What sort of man? ...” Ah, my own, think of that! “What is he?” and, “what sort of man?” I had distinguished myself! I heard Yevstafy Ivanovitch say: “No note against him, no note against him for anything, behaviour excellent, salary in accordance with his grade ...” “Well, assist him in some way, let him have something in advance,” says his Excellency.... “But he has had an advance,” he said; “he has had his salary in advance for such and such a time. He is apparently in difficulties, but his conduct is good, and there is no note, there never has been a note against him.” My angel, I was burning, burning in the fires of hell! I was dying.... “Well,” said his Excellency, “make haste and copy it again; Dyevushkin, come here, copy it over again without a mistake; and listen ...” Here his Excellency turned to the others, gave them various instructions and they all went away. As soon as they had gone, his Excellency hurriedly took out his notebook and from it took a hundred-rouble note. “Here,” said he, “take it as you like, so far as I can help you, take it .. ” and he thrust it into my hand. I trembled, my angel, my whole soul was quivering; I don’t know what happened to me, I tried to seize his hand to kiss it, but he flushed crimson, my darling, and—here I am not departing one hair’s breadth from the truth, my own—he took my unworthy hand and shook it, just took it and shook it, as though I had been his equal, as though I had been just such a General as himself. “You can go,” he said; “whatever I can do for you ... don’t make mistakes, but there, no great harm done this time.”","Now we are sitting close together and he could, should begin on what he wants to say. I am waiting impatiently, as I’m sure anyone can understand, because what can this rich man, this millionaire, have to ask of me, an indigent army lieutenant?",0,0.5297652,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 At first, K. was astonished at this orderly explanation, but then, just as quietly as the painter, he said, ""I think you're contradicting yourself."" ""How's that?"" asked the painter patiently, leaning back with a smile. This smile made K. feel as if he were examining not the words of the painter but seeking out inconsistencies in the procedures of the court itself. Nonetheless, he continued unabashed and said, ""You remarked earlier that the court cannot be approached with reasoned proofs, you later restricted this to the open court, and now you go so far as to say that an innocent man needs no assistance in court. That entails a contradiction. Moreover, you said earlier that the judges can be influenced personally but now you insist that an absolute acquittal, as you call it, can never be attained through personal influence. That entails a second contradiction."" ""It's quite easy to clear up these contradictions,"" said the painter. ""We're talking about two different things here, there's what it says in the law and there's what I know from my own experience , you shouldn't get the two confused. I've never seen it in writing, but the law does, of course, say on the one hand that the innocent will be set free, but on the other hand it doesn't say that the judges can be influenced. But in my experience it's the other way round. I don't know of any absolute acquittals but I do know of many times when a judge has been influenced. It's possible, of course, that there was no innocence in any of the cases I know about. But is that likely? Not a single innocent defendant in so many cases? When I was a boy I used to listen closely to my father when he told us about court cases at home, and the judges that came to his studio talked about the court, in our circles nobody talks about anything else; I hardly ever got the chance to go to court myself but always made use of it when I could, I've listened to countless trials at important stages in their development, I've followed them closely as far as they could be followed, and I have to say that I've never seen a single acquittal."" "" So. Not a single acquittal,"" said K., as if talking to himself and his hopes. "" That confirms the impression I already have of the court. So there's no point in it from this side either. They could replace the whole court with a single hangman."" ""You shouldn't generalise,"" said the painter, dissatisfied, ""I've only been talking about my own experience."" "" Well that's enough,"" said K., ""or have you heard of any acquittals that happened earlier?"" ""They say there have been some acquittals earlier,"" the painter answered, ""but it's very hard to be sure about it. The courts don't make their final conclusions public, not even the judges are allowed to know about them, so that all we know about these earlier cases are just legends. But most of them did involve absolute acquittals, you can believe that, but they can't be proved. On the other hand, you shouldn't forget all about them either, I'm sure there is some truth to them, and they are very beautiful, I've painted a few pictures myself depicting these legends."" ""My assessment will not be altered by mere legends,"" said K. ""I don't suppose it's possible to cite these legends in court, is it? "" The painter laughed. "" No, you can't cite them in court,"" he said. ""Then there's no point in talking about them,"" said K., he wanted, for the time being, to accept anything the painter told him, even if he thought it unlikely or contradicted what he had been told by others. He did not now have the time to examine the truth of everything the painter said or even to disprove it, he would have achieved as much as he could if the painter would help him in any way even if his help would not be decisive. As a result, he said, ""So let's pay no more attention to absolute acquittal, but you mentioned two other possibilities."" ""Apparent acquittal and deferment. They're the only possibilities,"" said the painter. "" But before we talk about them, would you not like to take your coat off? You must be hot."" ""Yes,"" said K., who until then had paid attention to nothing but the painter's explanations, but now that he had had the heat pointed out to him his brow began to sweat heavily. ""It's almost unbearable."" The painter nodded as if he understood K.'s discomfort very well. ""Could we not open the window?"" asked K. "" No,"" said the painter. ""It's only a fixed pane of glass, it can't be opened."" K. now realised that all this time he had been hoping the painter would suddenly go over to the window and pull it open. He had prepared himself even for the fog that he would breathe in through his open mouth. The thought that here he was entirely cut off from the air made him feel dizzy. He tapped lightly on the bedspread beside him and, with a weak voice, said, ""That is very inconvenient and unhealthy."" ""Oh no,"" said the painter in defence of his window, ""as it can't be opened this room retains the heat better than if the window were double glazed, even though it's only a single pane. There's not much need to air the room as there's so much ventilation through the gaps in the wood, but when I do want to I can open one of my doors, or even both of them."" K. was slightly consoled by this explanation and looked around to see where the second door was. The painter saw him do so and said, ""It's behind you, I had to hide it behind the bed."" Only then was K. able to see the little door in the wall. ""It's really much too small for a studio here,"" said the painter, as if he wanted to anticipate an objection K. would make. ""I had to arrange things as well as I could. That's obviously a very bad place for the bed, in front of the door. For instance when the judge I'm painting at present comes he always comes through the door by the bed, and I've even given him a key to this door so that he can wait for me here in the studio when I'm not home. Although nowadays he usually comes early in the morning when I'm still asleep. And of course, it always wakes me up when I hear the door opened beside the bed, however fast asleep I am. If you could hear the way I curse him as he climbs over my bed in the morning you'd lose all respect for judges. I suppose I could take the key away from him but that'd only make things worse. It only takes a tiny effort to break any of the doors here off their hinges. "" All the time the painter was speaking, K. was considering whether he should take off his coat, but he finally realised that, if he didn't do so, he would be quite unable to stay here any longer, so he took off his frock coat and lay it on his knee so that he could put it back on again as soon as the conversation was over. He had hardly done this when one of the girls called out, ""Now he's taken his coat off!"" and they could all be heard pressing around the gaps in the planks to see the spectacle for themselves. "" The girls think I'm going to paint your portrait,"" said the painter, ""and that's why you're taking your coat off."" ""I see,"" said K., only slightly amused by this, as he felt little better than he had before even though he now sat in his shirtsleeves. With some irritation he asked, ""What did you say the two other possibilities were?"" He had already forgotten the terms used. "" Apparent acquittal and deferment,"" said the painter. ""It's up to you which one you choose. You can get either of them if I help you, but it'll take some effort of course, the difference between them is that apparent acquittal needs concentrated effort for a while and that deferment takes much less effort but it has to be sustained. Now then, apparent acquittal. If that's what you want I'll write down an assertion of your innocence on a piece of paper. The text for an assertion of this sort was passed down to me from my father and it's quite unassailable. I take this assertion round to the judges I know. So I'll start off with the one I'm currently painting, and put the assertion to him when he comes for his sitting this evening. I'll lay the assertion in front of him, explain that you're innocent and give him my personal guarantee of it. And that's not just a superficial guarantee, it's a real one and it's binding. "" The painter's eyes seemed to show some reproach of K. for wanting to impose that sort of responsibility on him. ""That would be very kind of you"", said K. ""And would the judge then believe you and nonetheless not pass an absolute acquittal?"" ""It's like I just said,"" answered the painter. "" And anyway, it's not entirely sure that all the judges would believe me, many of them, for instance, might want me to bring you to see them personally. So then you'd have to come along too. But at least then, if that happens, the matter is half way won, especially as I'd teach you in advance exactly how you'd need to act with the judge concerned, of course. What also happens, though, is that there are some judges who'll turn me down in advance, and that's worse. I'll certainly make several attempts, but still, we'll have to forget about them, but at least we can afford to do that as no one judge can pass the decisive verdict. Then when I've got enough judges' signatures on this document I take it to the judge who's concerned with your case. I might even have his signature already, in which case things develop a bit quicker than they would do otherwise. But there aren't usually many hold ups from then on, and that's the time that the defendant can feel most confident. It's odd, but true, that people feel more confidence in this time than they do after they've been acquitted. There's no particular exertion needed now. When he has the document asserting the defendant's innocence, guaranteed by a number of other judges, the judge can acquit you without any worries, and although there are still several formalities to be gone through there's no doubt that that's what he'll do as a favour to me and several other acquaintances. You, however, walk out the court and you're free."" ""So, then I'll be free,"" said K., hesitantly. ""That's right,"" said the painter, ""but only apparently free or, to put it a better way, temporarily free, as the most junior judges, the ones I know, they don't have the right to give the final acquittal. Only the highest judge can do that, in the court that's quite out of reach for you, for me and for all of us. We don't know how things look there and, incidentally, we don't want to know. The right to acquit people is a major privilege and our judges don't have it, but they do have the right to free people from the indictment. That's to say, if they're freed in this way then for the time being the charge is withdrawn but it's still hanging over their heads and it only takes an order from higher up to bring it back into force. And as I'm in such good contact with the court I can also tell you how the difference between absolute and apparent acquittal is described, just in a superficial way, in the directives to the court offices. If there's an absolute acquittal all proceedings should stop, everything disappears from the process, not just the indictment but the trial and even the acquittal disappears, everything just disappears. With an apparent acquittal it's different. When that happens, nothing has changed except that the case for your innocence, for your acquittal and the grounds for the acquittal have been made stronger. Apart from that, proceedings go on as before, the court offices continue their business and the case gets passed to higher courts, gets passed back down to the lower courts and so on, backwards and forwards, sometimes faster, sometimes slower, to and fro. It's impossible to know exactly what's happening while this is going on. Seen from outside it can sometimes seem that everything has been long since forgotten, the documents have been lost and the acquittal is complete. No-one familiar with the court would believe it. No documents ever get lost, the court forgets nothing. One day - no-one expects it - some judge or other picks up the documents and looks more closely at them, he notices that this particular case is still active, and orders the defendant's immediate arrest. I've been talking here as if there's a long delay between apparent acquittal and re-arrest, that is quite possible and I do know of cases like that, but it's just as likely that the defendant goes home after he's been acquitted and finds somebody there waiting to re-arrest him. Then, of course, his life as a free man is at an end."" ""And does the trial start over again?"" asked K., finding it hard to believe. ""The trial will always start over again,"" said the painter, ""but there is, once again as before, the possibility of getting an apparent acquittal. Once again, the accused has to muster all his strength and mustn't give up. "" The painter said that last phrase possibly as a result of the impression that K., whose shoulders had dropped somewhat, gave on him. "" But to get a second acquittal,"" asked K., as if in anticipation of further revelations by the painter, ""is that not harder to get than the first time?"" ""As far as that's concerned,"" answered the painter, ""there's nothing you can say for certain. You mean, do you, that the second arrest would have an adverse influence on the judge and the verdict he passes on the defendant? That's not how it happens. When the acquittal is passed the judges are already aware that re-arrest is likely. So when it happens it has hardly any effect. But there are countless other reasons why the judges' mood and their legal acumen in the case can be altered, and efforts to obtain the second acquittal must therefore be suited to the new conditions, and generally just as vigorous as the first."" ""But this second acquittal will once again not be final,"" said K., shaking his head. ""Of course not,"" said the painter, ""the second acquittal is followed by the third arrest, the third acquittal by the fourth arrest and so on. That's what is meant by the term apparent acquittal."" K. was silent. ""You clearly don't think an apparent acquittal offers much advantage,"" said the painter, ""perhaps deferment would suit you better. Would you like me to explain what deferment is about?"" K. nodded. The painter had leant back and spread himself out in his chair, his nightshirt was wide open, he had pushed his hand inside and was stroking his breast and his sides. "" Deferment,"" said the painter, looking vaguely in front of himself for a while as if trying to find a perfectly appropriate explanation, ""deferment consists of keeping proceedings permanently in their earliest stages. To do that, the accused and those helping him need to keep in continuous personal contact with the court, especially those helping him. I repeat, this doesn't require so much effort as getting an apparent acquittal, but it probably requires a lot more attention. You must never let the trial out of your sight, you have to go and see the appropriate judge at regular intervals as well as when something in particular comes up and , whatever you do, you have to try and remain friendly with him; if you don't know the judge personally you have to influence him through the judges you do know, and you have to do it without giving up on the direct discussions. As long as you don't fail to do any of these things you can be reasonably sure the trial won't get past its first stages. The trial doesn't stop, but the defendant is almost as certain of avoiding conviction as if he'd been acquitted. Compared with an apparent acquittal, deferment has the advantage that the defendant's future is less uncertain, he's safe from the shock of being suddenly re-arrested and doesn't need to fear the exertions and stress involved in getting an apparent acquittal just when everything else in his life would make it most difficult. Deferment does have certain disadvantages of its own though, too, and they shouldn't be under-estimated. I don't mean by this that the defendant is never free, he's never free in the proper sense of the word with an apparent acquittal either. There's another disadvantage. Proceedings can't be prevented from moving forward unless there are some at least ostensible reasons given. Something must therefore happen outwardly in the process. This means that from time to time various injunctions have to be obeyed, the accused has to be questioned, investigations have to take place and so on. The trial's been artificially constrained inside a tiny circle, and it has to be continuously spun round within it. And that, of course, brings with it certain unpleasantnesses for the accused, although you shouldn't imagine they're all that bad. All of this is just for show, the interrogations, for instance, they're only very short, if you ever don't have the time or don't feel like going to them you can offer an excuse, with some judges you can even arrange the injunctions together a long time in advance, in essence all it means is that, as the accused, you have to report to the judge from time to time."" Even while the painter was speaking those last words K. had laid his coat over his arm and had stood up. Immediately, from outside the door, there was a cry of 'He's standing up now!'. ""Are you leaving already?"" asked the painter, who had also stood up. ""It must be the air that's driving you out. I'm very sorry about that. There's still a lot I need to tell you. I had to put everything very briefly but I hope at least it was all clear."" ""Oh yes,"" said K., whose head was aching from the effort of listening. Despite this affirmation the painter summed it all up once more, as if he wanted to give K. something to console him on his way home. ""Both have in common that they prevent the defendant being convicted,"" he said. ""But they also prevent his being properly acquitted,"" said K. quietly, as if ashamed to acknowledge it. ""You've got it, in essence,"" said the painter quickly. K. placed his hand on his winter overcoat but could not bring himself to put it on. Most of all he would have liked to pack everything together and run out to the fresh air. Not even the girls could induce him to put his coat on, even though they were already loudly telling each other that he was doing so. The painter still had to interpret K.'s mood in some way, so he said, ""I expect you've deliberately avoided deciding between my suggestions yet. That's good. I would even have advised against making a decision straight away. There's no more than a hair's breadth of difference between the advantages and disadvantages. Everything has to be carefully weighed up. But the most important thing is you shouldn't lose too much time."" ""I'll come back here again soon,"" said K., who had suddenly decided to put his frock coat on, threw his overcoat over his shoulder and hurried over to the door behind which the girls now began to scream. K. thought he could even see the screaming girls through the door. "" Well, you'll have to keep your word,"" said the painter, who had not followed him, ""otherwise I'll come to the bank to ask about it myself. "" ""Will you open this door for me,"" said K. pulling at the handle which, as he noticed from the resistance, was being held tightly by the girls on the other side. ""Do you want to be bothered by the girls? "" asked the painter. ""It's better if you use the other way out,"" he said, pointing to the door behind the bed. K. agreed to this and jumped back to the bed. But instead of opening that door the painter crawled under the bed and from underneath it asked K., ""Just a moment more, would you not like to see a picture I could sell to you?"" K. did not want to be impolite, the painter really had taken his side and promised to help him more in the future, and because of K.'s forgetfulness there had been no mention of any payment for the painter's help, so K. could not turn him down now and allowed him to show him the picture, even though he was quivering with impatience to get out of the studio. From under the bed, the painter withdrew a pile of unframed paintings. They were so covered in dust that when the painter tried to blow it off the one on top the dust swirled around in front of K.'s eyes, robbing him of breath for some time. "" Moorland landscape,"" said the painter passing the picture to K. It showed two sickly trees, well separated from each other in dark grass. In the background there was a multi-coloured sunset. ""That's nice,"" said K. ""I'll buy it."" K. expressed himself in this curt way without any thought, so he was glad when the painter did not take this amiss and picked up a second painting from the floor. ""This is a counterpart to the first picture,"" said the painter. Perhaps it had been intended as a counterpart, but there was not the slightest difference to be seen between it and the first picture, there were the trees, there the grass and there the sunset. But this was of little importance to K. ""They are beautiful landscapes,"" he said, ""I'll buy them both and hang them in my office."" ""You seem to like this subject,"" said the painter, picking up a third painting, ""good job I've still got another, similar picture here. "" The picture though, was not similar, rather it was exactly the same moorland landscape. The painter was fully exploiting this opportunity to sell off his old pictures. ""I'll take this one too,"" said K. ""How much do the three paintings cost?"" ""We can talk about that next time,"" said the painter. ""You're in a hurry now, and we'll still be in contact. And besides, I'm glad you like the paintings, I'll give you all the paintings I've got down here. They're all moorland landscapes, I've painted a lot of moorland landscapes. A lot of people don't like that sort of picture because they're too gloomy, but there are others, and you're one of them, who love gloomy themes."" But K. was not in the mood to hear about the professional experiences of this painter cum beggar. "" Wrap them all up!"" he called out, interrupting the painter as he was speaking, ""my servant will come to fetch them in the morning."" ""There's no need for that,"" said the painter. ""I expect I can find a porter for you who can go with you now."" And, at last, he leant over the bed and unlocked the door. "" Just step on the bed, don't worry about that,"" said the painter, ""that's what everyone does who comes in here. "" Even without this invitation, K. had shown no compunction in already placing his foot in the middle of the bed covers, then he looked out through the open door and drew his foot back again. "" What is that?"" he asked the painter. ""What are you so surprised at?"" he asked, surprised in his turn. ""Those are court offices. Didn't you know there are court offices here? There are court offices in almost every attic, why should this building be any different? Even my studio is actually one of the court offices but the court put it at my disposal. "" It was not so much finding court offices even here that shocked K., he was mainly shocked at himself, at his own naïvety in court matters. It seemed to him that one of the most basic rules governing how a defendant should behave was always to be prepared, never allow surprises, never to look, unsuspecting, to the right when the judge stood beside him to his left - and this was the very basic rule that he was continually violating. A long corridor extended in from of him, air blew in from it which, compared with the air in the studio, was refreshing. There were benches set along each side of the corridor just as in the waiting area for the office he went to himself. There seemed to be precise rules governing how offices should be equipped. There did not seem to be many people visiting the offices that day. There was a man there, half sitting, half laying, his face was buried in his arm on the bench and he seemed to be sleeping; another man was standing in the half-dark at the end of the corridor. K. now climbed over the bed, the painter followed him with the pictures. They soon came across a servant of the court - K. was now able to recognise all the servants of the court from the gold buttons they wore on their civilian clothes below the normal buttons - and the painter instructed him to go with K. carrying the pictures. K. staggered more than he walked, his handkerchief pressed over his mouth. They had nearly reached the exit when the girls stormed in on them, so K. had not been able to avoid them. They had clearly seen that the second door of the studio had been opened and had gone around to impose themselves on him from this side. ""I can't come with you any further!"" called out the painter with a laugh as the girls pressed in. "" Goodbye, and don't hesitate too long!"" K. did not even look round at him. Once on the street he took the first cab he came across. He now had to get rid of the servant, whose gold button continually caught his eye even if it caught no-one else's. As a servant, the servant of the court was going to sit on the coach-box. But K. chased him down from there. It was already well into the afternoon when K. arrived in front of the bank. He would have liked to leave the pictures in the cab but feared there might be some occasion when he would have to let the painter see he still had them. So he had the pictures taken to his office and locked them in the lowest drawer of his desk so that he could at least keep them safe from the deputy director's view for the next few days.",So something needs to seem to be happening when looked at from the outside.,1,0.5796384,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 , I deliver the queen's letter to the superior, and I bring back the dear treasure that I am going to seek, not in Lorraine, not in Belgium , but in Paris, where he will be better hidden, especially as long as the cardinal is at La Rochelle. my God, said d'Artagnan, who, as we know, never doubted anything, it seems to me that we make a lot of trouble for a very simple thing: in two days, and by dying two or three horses ( I don't care: I have money), I am in Béthune","Then the thought suddenly struck him of the time they had wasted, and it terrified him; in three days they had only accomplished the distance from Contreuve to Vouziers, a scant two leagues. On the 25th the other corps, alleging scarcity of supplies, had diverted their course to the north, while now, on the 27th, here they were coming southward again to fight a battle with an invisible enemy. Bordas' brigade had followed the 4th hussars into the abandoned passes of the Argonne, and was supposed to have got itself into trouble; the division had gone to its assistance, and that had been succeeded by the corps, and that by the entire army, and all those movements had amounted to nothing. Maurice trembled as he reflected how pricelessly valuable was every hour, every minute, in that mad project of joining forces with Bazaine, a project that could be carried to a successful issue only by an officer of genius, with seasoned troops under him, who should press forward to his end with the resistless energy of a whirlwind, crushing every obstacle that lay in his path.",0,0.5288984,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 60 —Where are you taking me? where are we going? what will we do without Cunégonde? said Candide. — By Saint James of Compostela, said Cacambo, you were going to make war against the Jesuits, now we’ll go make war for them. I know the roads pretty well, I’ll bring you to their country, they will be delighted to have a captain who knows the Bulgar drill; you’ll make a prodigious fortune. If you don’t get your rights in one world, you will find them in another. And isn’t it pleasant to see new things and do new things?",Are you the brats of the pope’s headwaiter?”,0,0.52844214,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 “But I have to do something, I can’t just sit down and wait here until I’m covered beneath hexagonal symmetry. And then when Settembrini comes to check up on me with his little horn, he’ll find me squatting here with eyes turned to glass, a snowy cap cocked to one side.” Easier said than done,” he added with a choked gasp, but all the same went on speaking in a whisper as he forced himself into motion again.","Chichikov decorously passed through the doors sideways, so as to allow the host to enter with him; but this was in vain: the host could not enter, and besides he was no longer there. One could only hear his talk resounding all over the yard: “But where’s Big Foma? Why isn’t he here yet? Emelyan, you gawk, run and tell that dolt of a cook to gut the sturgeon quickly.",0,0.5268905,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 “See what an entanglement it was! Out of a thousand married men—not only in our rank, but unfortunately also in the masses— there is scarcely one who, like Don Juan, would not have been married already not merely ten times, but even a hundred or a thousand times before the marriage ceremony. “It is true there are now—so I hear, and I believe it— some young men who live pure lives, feeling and knowing that this is no joke, but a serious matter. “God help them! But in my time there was not one such out of ten thousand. And all men know this and pretend that they do not know it. In novels the feelings of the heroes, the ponds, the bushes around which they wander, are described in detail; but though their overpowering love for some particular maiden is described, nothing is said about what the interesting hero was doing before, not a word about his frequenting brothels, about his relations with chambermaids, cooks, and other women. Novels of this improper kind—if there are any— are not put into the hands of those who most need to know about these things—that is, young women. “At first they pretend to young women that this dissipation, which fills half the life of our cities and villages, does not exist at all. “In time, we ourselves become so accustomed to this hypocrisy that we actually come to believe that all of us really are moral men and live in a moral world! Girls, poor things, believe this with seriousness! “So did my wife believe too. I remember how, already being a fiancé, I showed her my diary, from which she could learn at least a little about my past, the main thing is about the last connection that I had and about which she could learn from others and about which I therefore felt the need to tell her. I remember her horror, despair and confusion when she found out and understood. I saw that she wanted to leave me then. And why didn’t she do it?”","I remember how, after we became engaged, I showed her my diary5 so that she might learn as much as she would like, even though it were very little, of my past and especially about the last affair in which I had been involved, for she might later hear about this from others and I felt it better to tell her. I remember her horror, her despair and disillusionment when she knew it all and realized what it meant. I saw that she was tempted to break our engagement.",1,0.5822535,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 20 All your letters were left in Fedora's chest of drawers, in the top drawer. You write that you are ill, but Mr. Bykov won't let me go anywhere today. I will write to you, my friend, I promise, but only God knows what might happen. And so, let us say goodbye now forever, my friend, my dear, my dear, forever! .. Oh, how I would embrace you now!","Please don’t give in to despair! There is enough trouble already as it is. I am sending you thirty copecks in silver; more than that I cannot manage. Buy yourself the things you need most, so that at least you can survive until tomorrow. We ourselves have practically nothing left, and I do not know what will happen tomorrow. It is so sad, Makar Alekseyevich! But don’t you be sad; if you haven’t succeeded, there is nothing to be done about it.",0,0.52655584,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 She suddenly interrupted herself and lay her hand on K.'s as if she wanted to calm him down, and whispered, “Be quiet, Berthold is watching us.” K. slowly looked up. In the doorway to the courtroom stood a young man, he was short, his legs were not quite straight, and he continually moved his finger round in a short, thin, red beard with which he hoped to make himself look dignified. K. looked at him with some curiosity, he was the first student he had ever met of the unfamiliar discipline of jurisprudence, face to face at least, a man who would even most likely attain high office one day. The student, in contrast, seemed to take no notice of K. at all, he merely withdrew his finger from his beard long enough to beckon to the woman and went over to the window, the woman leant over to K. and whispered, “Don't be cross with me, please don't, and please don't think ill of me either, I've got to go to him now, to this horrible man, just look at his bent legs. But I'll come straight back and then I'll go with you if you'll take me, I'll go wherever you want, you can do whatever you like with me , I'll be happy if I can be away from here for as long as possible, it'd be best if I could get away from here for good.” She stroked K.'s hand once more, jumped up and ran over to the window. Before he realised it, K. grasped for her hand but failed to catch it. He really was attracted to the woman, and even after thinking hard about it could find no good reason why he should not give in to her allure. It briefly crossed his mind that the woman meant to entrap him on behalf of the court, but that was an objection he had no difficulty in fending off. In what way could she entrap him? Was he not still free, so free that he could crush the entire court whenever he wanted, as least where it concerned him? Could he not have that much confidence in himself? And her offer of help sounded sincere, and maybe it wasn't quite worthless. And maybe there was no better revenge against the examining judge and his cronies than to take this woman from him and have her for himself. It could then happen that the examining magistrate, after laborious work on lying reports about K., found the woman's bed empty late at night. And empty because she belonged to K., because this woman at the window, this voluptuous, supple, warm body in a dark dress made of coarse, heavy fabric, belonged only to K.. ","Maybe then, after much hard work writing dishonest reports about K., the judge would go to the woman's bed late one night and find it empty. And it would be empty because she belonged to K., because this woman at the window, this lush, supple, warm body in its sombre clothes of rough, heavy material belonged to him, totally to him and to him alone.",1,0.5823723,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 80 I live their dreams, the soul of instinct and their bodies and attitudes at the same time. And in the midst of all this, his physiognomy, his attire, his gestures, do not escape me. In a great unified dispersion, I become ubiquitous in them and I create and am, at every moment of the conversation, a multitude of beings, conscious and unconscious, analyzed and analytical, that come together in an open fan. ","On the erect masses of the tall houses the yellow was airy, barely perceptible. Far off in the west, towards which I was turned, the horizon was already a greenish white. I know today is going to be tedious for me, as tedious as one’s",1,0.5827285,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 Pierre closed the boxes regretfully; he left there a hundred and nine guns which he would willingly have distributed; however, he now had to divide the cartridges. And as this corner was dark, one of the gentlemen brought the taper near, whereupon another conspirator—a burly pork-butcher, with immense fists—grew angry, declaring that it was most imprudent to bring a light so close. They strongly approved his words, so the cartridges were distributed in the dark. Of these, there were two large barrels full in the furthest corner of the cart-shed, sufficient to defend Plassans against an army.",What did he do with these riches of time?,0,0.52599275,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 in fact, we have plenty of everything, because my uncle makes his living as a coal dealer. But I do make a small contribution toward my support, especially now in the summertime when we sell hardly any coal. When I was a sailor and supported myself, things were better in every way; but then I was injured and it isn’t easy for me. In the first place, I’m a stupid man; I’m not very smart —I fell from the rigging and ruptured myself, and since then I’ve had a hard time managing. I get my board and whatever else I need from my uncle, I also live with him, quite comfortably— “I need money for many things. Every word I’m telling you is true! There are some days when I can use ten øre. I always spend it on something to take home. But as for the deputy—it amuses him to see me dance because with my hernia I move so clumsily.”","Next, an old countess took a fancy to my looks. ' He is of respectable appearance,' she said to herself, and added me to her staff of Swiss lacqueys. The post was a light one, and bid fair to be permanent, too. All that I had to do was to sit as solemnly as possible on a chair, to cross one leg over the other, and, when any rascal called, not to answer him, but just to grunt and send the fellow away--or else give him a box on the ear. Of course, to the gentry one had to behave differently--just to wave one's staff like this. "" Zakhar gave an illustration of what he meant. ""As I say, 'twas an easy job, and the lady, God bless her!",0,0.5257949,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 He quickly left, covering his face with his hands. Of the sincerity of his agitation the prince could have no doubt. He also understood that the old man had left intoxicated by his own success; but he still had a foreboding that he was one of that category of liars who, though they lie to the point of sensuality and even self-forgetfulness, at the very highest point of their intoxication none the less have a private suspicion that they are not believed, and cannot be believed. On this occasion, when he recovered from his exaltation, he would probably suspect Muishkin of pitying him, and feel insulted. "" Was it not bad of me to lead him to such a pitch of inspiration?’ the prince worried, and suddenly could not restrain himself, but burst into the most hilarious laughter, that lasted for some ten minutes. He began to reproach himself for this laughter; but instantly realized that there was nothing to reproach himself for, as he felt infinitely sorry for the general.","He knocked and knocked and eventually was let in, causing great embarrassment at first. But Arkady Ivanovich could behave with delightful manners when he chose, so that he quickly dispelled the sensible parents’ initial supposition—quite a perceptive one too—that he’d managed to drink himself so silly that he had no idea what he was doing. The bride’s kind-hearted and sensible mother wheeled out her enfeebled husband in his armchair to greet Arkady Ivanovich, and then, as was her way, started making conversation about all kinds of irrelevant topics. (This woman would never ask a question directly, but always started by smiling and rubbing her hands, and then, supposing she needed a firm and definite answer—for instance about the date which Arkady Ivanovich would like for the wedding—she would launch into curious and eager questions about Paris and court life there, before eventually going on to mention the Third Line and Vasilievsky Island.) On another occasion, all of this would of course have inspired great respect, but this time Arkady Ivanovich turned out to be somehow particularly impatient, and abruptly demanded to see his fiancée, although he had been told as soon as he arrived that she’d already gone to bed. Needless to say, the bride made her appearance. Arkady Ivanovich told her straight out that he had to leave Petersburg for a while on some very important business, and had therefore brought her various banknotes to the value of fifteen thousand silver roubles, which he requested her to accept from him as a gift, since he had long intended to give her this trifling present before their wedding. Of course these explanations failed to demonstrate any particular logical connection between the gift and his imminent departure, nor any absolute need for him to turn up in the pouring rain in the middle of the night in order to give it; nevertheless, everything passed off very smoothly. Even the unavoidable oohs and aahs, questions and expressions of amazement, somehow turned out unusually modest and restrained; but there were the most ardent expressions of gratitude, supported by actual tears from the very sensible mother.",0,0.5254906,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 “But enough,” she continued.",The maid stared at Raoul with an expression of total bewilderment.,0,0.5254906,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 but I’m not a thief, because I can always go to the woman I have betrayed , lay the remaining half of the misappropriated sum before her, and say to her, “See, I may have spent half your money and thus shown my weakness and lack of firm principles, shown myself to be, if you wish, a scoundrel” ’—I am using the accused’s own language—‘ “but I am, nevertheless, not a thief, for if I were, I would not have returned the remaining half of the money to you, but would have kept it and used it as I had the first half.” ’ But, according to the accused’s own admission, he had an even more important reason for not tearing open the rag: ‘As long as I have that money on me,’ he says he felt, ‘I may be a scoundrel His original reason was that, when she finally said to him, ‘I’m all yours, take me away from here, wherever you want,’ he wanted to have the money to take her away with.","The original pretext, we said, was that when they told him: “I’m yours, take me wherever you want,” then there would be something to take away. But this first pretext, according to the defendant's own words, turned pale before the second. As long as, they say, I carry this money on me - “I am a scoundrel, but not a thief,” because I can always go to the bride I have offended and, having laid out before her this half of the entire amount deceitfully appropriated from her, I can always say to her: “You see, I squandered half of your money and proved by the fact that I am a weak and immoral person and, if you want, a scoundrel (I use the language of the defendant himself), but even a scoundrel, not a thief, for if I were a thief, I would not bring you this half of the remaining money, and would have appropriated it, as well as the first half. """,1,0.5840933,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 It has no color, but is not nothing. The essence of the True Ideal has no form The bodiless is the real body, the formless is the real form. It is a spark of light including everything.","I will write another book with you, and go directly to the Golden Palace in the Tang Dynasty's imperial city. On the left, Prime Minister Yin Kaishan's family is your mother's biological parents. You handed my book to your grandfather and asked him to play it on the king of Tang, lead the troops, capture the thief, and avenge your father. Only then did you save the old lady's body.",1,0.5842712,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 But it was just a hasty time, and I never invited Yin and Yang to worship the hall and spread the tent. The woman said, ""Son-in-law, your senior brother said that today is an auspicious day for God's grace, so he taught you to recruit him.","Having received his order and having buckled and knotted his armor properly, the Mighty-Spirit God grasped his spreading-flower ax and came to the Water-Curtain Cave. There in front of the cave he saw a great mob of monsters, all of them wolves, insects, tigers, leopards, and the like; they were all jumping and growling, brandishing their swords and waving their spears. “Damnable beasts!” shouted the Mighty-Spirit God. “Hurry and tell the BanHorsePlague that I, a great general from Heaven, have by the authorization of the Jade Emperor come to subdue him.",0,0.5240293,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 I got a little sick ...","Look, it’s swollen, what a shame!",1,0.5848641,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 I looked at the three trees; I could see them plainly, but my mind felt that they were concealing something which it had not grasped, as when things are placed out of our reach, so that our fingers, stretched out at arm's–length, can only touch for a moment their outer surface, and can take hold of nothing. Then we rest for a little while before thrusting out our arm with refreshed vigour, and trying to reach an inch or two farther. But if my mind was thus to collect itself, to gather strength, I should have to be alone. What would I not have given to be able to escape as I used to do on those walks along the Guermantes way, when I detached myself from my parents! It seemed indeed that I ought to do so now. I recognised that kind of pleasure which requires, it is true, a certain effort on the part of the mind, but in comparison with which the attractions of the inertia which inclines us to renounce that pleasure seem very slight. That pleasure, the object of which I could but dimly feel, that pleasure which I must create for myself, I experienced only on rare occasions, but on each of these it seemed to me that the things which had happened in the interval were of but scant importance, and that in attaching myself to the reality of that pleasure alone I could at length begin to lead a new life. I put my hand briefly over my eyes, so as to be able to close them without Mme de Villeparisis noticing. I sat there, thinking of nothing, then with my thoughts collected, compressed and strengthened I sprang farther forward in the direction of the trees, or rather in that inverse direction at the end of which I could see them growing within myself. I felt again behind them the same object, known to me and yet vague, which I could not bring nearer. And yet all three of them, as the carriage moved on, I could see coming towards me. Where had I looked at them before? There was no place near Combray where an avenue opened off the road like that. The site which they recalled to me, there was no room for it either in the scenery of the place in Germany where I had gone one year with my grandmother to take the waters. Was I to suppose, then, that they came from years already so remote in my life that the landscape which accompanied them had been entirely obliterated from my memory, and that, like the pages which, with sudden emotion, we recognise in a book which we imagined that we had never read, they surged up by themselves out of the forgotten chapter of my earliest infancy? Were they not rather to be numbered among those dream landscapes, always the same, at least for me in whom their unfamiliar aspect was but the objectivation in my dreams of the effort that I had been making while awake either to penetrate the mystery of a place beneath the outward appearance of which I was dimly conscious of there being something more, as had so often happened to me on the Guermantes way, or to succeed in bringing mystery back to a place which I had longed to know and which, from the day on which I had come to know it, had seemed to me to be wholly superficial, like Balbec? Or were they but an image freshly extracted from a dream of the night before, but already so worn, so altered that it seemed to me to come from somewhere far more distant? Or had I indeed never seen them before; did they conceal beneath their surface, like the trees, like the tufts of grass that I had seen beside the Guermantes way, a meaning as obscure, as hard to grasp as is a distant past, so that, whereas they are pleading with me that I would master a new idea , I imagined that I had to identify something in my memory? Or again were they concealing no hidden thought, and was it simply my strained vision that made me see them double in time as one occasionally sees things double in space? I could not tell. And yet all the time they were coming towards me; perhaps some fabulous apparition, a ring of witches or of norns who would propound their oracles to me. I chose rather to believe that they were phantoms of the past, dear companions of my childhood, vanished friends who recalled our common memories. Like ghosts they seemed to be appealing to me to take them with me, to bring them back to life. In their simple, passionate gesticulation I could discern the helpless anguish of a beloved person who has lost the power of speech, and feels that he will never be able to say to us what he wishes to say and we can never guess. Presently, at a cross–roads, the carriage left them. It was bearing me away from what alone I believed to be true , what would have made me truly happy; it was like my life.","I laid my hand for a moment across my eyes, so as to be able to shut them without Mme. de Villeparisis's noticing.",1,0.5848641,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 She did everything about the house, the chamber-work, the washing, the cooking, anything she pleased, and played the deuce generally. Cosette was her only servant; a mouse in the service of an elephant. The reader has perhaps, since her first appearance, preserved some remembrance of this huge Thénardiess;—for such we shall call the female of this species,—large, blond, red, fat, brawny, square, enormous, and agile; she belonged, as we have said, to the race of those colossal wild women who posturise at fairs with paving-stones hung in their hair.","Her father told her that he agreed, but he gave her three years to think about it. The young girl, full of fervour, found her father’s ruling difficult to accept, but accept it she must. Not having wavered in her vocation, she went back to her father and told him that the three years had passed. ‘Very good, my child,’ he replied. ‘I gave you three years to test you, and I hope now that you will be good enough to give me the same amount of time to make up my mind.’ She found that more difficult still and she wept, but her father was a firm man who stood his ground. After six years she entered the convent and made her profession. She was a good nun, simple, pious, and scrupulous in performing all her tasks, but the confessors took advantage of her openness to find out from her in the confessional what was going on in the convent. Our superiors guessed as much, so she was locked away, cut off from religious observances, and she went mad. For how can the mind withstand being persecuted by fifty people, all of whom devote every minute of the day to tormenting you?",0,0.52354217,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 The days began to take on a regular pattern: walk to school in the morning, do my job, then come back to my room, where my landlord would soon drop in and ask if I’d like some tea. After a week of this I had a pretty good idea of what was what at school, and also of what kind of people the landlord and his wife were. I had heard from some of the other teachers that for their first week or month on the job they had been very worried about whether they were making a good impression or not, but that wasn’t the way I felt at all. When I made mistakes in class I would feel bad about it, but after thirty minutes or so I had forgotten about it completely. I’m not the kind of guy who can worry about things for long even if I try. I was completely unconcerned with the effect my slip-ups in class might have on the students, or with what the Principal and Assistant Principal might think. Like I said before, my nerves aren’t that steady, but once I take a stand I’ll stick to it. I was ready to pack up and leave at any time if things didn’t work out at this school, so the Badger and Redshirt didn’t faze me at all. And as for those kids in my classes, I was even less tempted to bother with trying to keep on their good side. This approach worked fine at school, but at home things weren’t so simple. If it was just the landlord dropping in to drink up my tea it wouldn’t have been so bad, but he kept bringing various stuff to show me. First it was a bunch of things he called ‘inzai’ or some such name, little bars of stone that you could carve a seal on; he laid out about ten of them and said that he’d give me the lot for the bargain price of three yen. Since I wasn’t some kind of second-rate journeyman artist who needed a bunch of fancy seals to make his work look good I had no use for them, and I told him so; then he unrolled a hanging scroll, a traditional-style bird and flower picture, and told me it was painted by a man named Kazan or something like that. He hung it up in the alcove himself, and asked ‘Don’t you think it’s a splendidly executed piece?’ I guess so, I said, just to say something, at which point he launched into a long-winded explanation of how there were two painters named Kazan – Something-or-other Kazan and another Something-or-other Kazan – and this scroll was by one of the Something-or-other Kazans and not the other. Then he urged me to buy it, adding that just for me he’d bring the price down to fifteen yen. When I told him that I didn’t have that kind of money, he said it was no problem, I could pay whenever it suited me. The man simply wouldn’t take no for an answer. I finally got rid of him by telling him that I wouldn’t buy it even if I did have the money. Another time he lugged in a giant inkstone, as big as a gargoyle roof tile, and announced ‘This is a Tankei stone, a Tankei.’ Before he could repeat himself again, I decided to play dumb and asked him what a Tankei was, but that only got him started on another lecture. The inkstones of Tankei, he explained, were quarried from three different veins of rock: upper, middle, and lower. All of the stones on the market these days were from the upper level, but this one was a genuine middle-level stone. ‘Just look at these eyes,’ he said, pointing to some lighter spots in the blackish stone. ‘You won’t see many specimens with three eyes like this. Feels absolutely superb when you glide your ink stick over it. Please, go ahead, give it a try.’ As he shoved the thing in front of me I asked him what the price was. ‘The owner brought it back with him from China and he says he’s very eager to sell it , so I think we could let you have it for only thirty yen.’ This man must be an idiot. At school it was looking like I’d be able to get by somehow or other, but there was no way I could hold up much longer under this trial by antiques.",The man must have been out of his mind.,1,0.58545667,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 While thinking about the Qing dynasty, when I was screaming, suddenly on my head, maybe there were forty-four people in number, the second floor fell down, and the floorboards were beaten up and down. There was a trampling sound. Then, a loud battle cry was heard in proportion to the footsteps. I was surprised at what had happened and jumped up. As soon as I jumped up, I realized that the students were exposed to the recollection of Asahi. Sin will not go away until I say that the bad thing in the foreground was bad. The bad thing is that you will be aware of it. Normally, I regret after sleeping and come to the end even in the morning tomorrow. However, you should sleep quietly, even if you don't apologize. What is this fuss about it? I built a dormitory and kept pigs. You should usually do crazy imitations. Looking at what to do, I jumped out of the nightwear room with my nightwear and jumped up to the second floor in three and a half steps. Then, strangely, what had been fluttering on my head until now suddenly calmed down, and I couldn't even make a footstep, let alone a human voice. The lamps were already out Very strange! so it was too dark to see anything clearly, but I could sense that some of them were lurking here and there. But there was nobody, not even a mouse, in the hallway that ran the length of the dormitory from east to west. The moon shines from the edge of the corridor, and it is far away but bright. It's weird, I've always had a habit of dreaming since I was a kid, and I often jumped up and laughed at people by saying unfamiliar sleep-talking. The night mystery that I had a dream of picking up a diamond at the time of sixteen stood up and asked my brother, who was by my side, what happened to the diamond now. At that time, I became a laughing grass in my house for about three days and was greatly weakened. Perhaps it's still a dream now. However, when I was thinking in the middle of the corridor that it must have been exposed, the moon was on the other side, and I couldn't help but think that the voices of the thirty-four people had struck in front of me. All of them stomped on the floorboards. Look at it, it's not a dream, it's a fact. Be quiet, it's midnight, and I screamed as if I was defeated, and headed for the corridor. The road I take is dark, but my goal is to see the moonlight on the edge. I wondered if I had come out for two minutes, and in the middle of the corridor, I hit my shin against a big, hard object, and while the pain hit my head, my body was pulled forward. .. I tried to get up with a brute, but I couldn't get it. I'm afraid, but I can't say anything about my legs. I want to get angry, so when I fly on one leg, the footsteps and human voices have calmed down, making it a forest. No matter how cowardly a human being is, it cannot be so cowardly. It's like a pig. If this happens, I'll pull out the hidden guy and I'll not pull it until I'm afraid, so I thought I'd open one of the bedrooms and inspect the inside, but it wouldn't open. Whether it's locked, a desk or something piled up, it never opens when pushed or pushed. This time I tried the room on the north side of the opposite side. After all it is almost the same as not opening. When I opened the door and tried to catch the guy inside, I was anxious, and the voice of the battle cry and the clapping began again on the eastern edge. I thought that I was going to make a fool of myself according to the eastern and western aspects, but I don't know what to do. To be honest, I confess, but I lack the wisdom to the extent that I have the courage. I have no idea what to do in such a case. I don't know, but I'm never going to lose. If you leave it as it is, it will affect my face. It is a pity that Edokko is said to be stubborn. It's a lifelong name to think that I fell asleep because I couldn't help it because I had to make a night shift and was teased by a kid with a drooping nose. Even this is originally Hatamoto. The origin of Hatamoto is Seiwa Genji, a descendant of Mitsunaka Tada. It's different from this kind of farmer since I was born. It's just regrettable that there is no wisdom. I just don't know what to do. Do you lose if you are in trouble? To be honest, I don't know what to do. Think about whether there is something in the world that can be won outside without being honest. If you can't win tonight, you'll win tomorrow. If you can't win tomorrow, you'll win tomorrow. If you can't win, you'll stay here until you win by ordering a bento from your boarding house. I made this decision, so I was cross-legged in the middle of the corridor and waited for the night to dawn. A lot of mosquitoes came, but nothing happened. When I stroked the shin that I hit earlier, it got wet. Blood will come out. If you want to get some blood, you should get it. Eventually, I got tired from the very front and finally fell asleep. It was kind of noisy, so when I woke up, I jumped up saying that I had pooped. The door on the right side where I was sitting is half open, and two students are standing in front of me. As soon as I got back to my senses, I pulled the student's leg at the tip of my nose and pulled it with force, and he fell on his back. Look at Zama. When the remaining one was a little upset, he jumped, held his shoulders down, and stumbled around a couple of times. When I came to my room, I pulled it out, and it looked like a sissy, and it came after me without a second. The night is finally open.","This is strange. The lamps have already been turned off, so it's dark and I don't know where they are, but it seems that they aren't popular. No mouse is hidden in the corridor that runs from east to west for a long time.",1,0.5855752,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 Someone must have slandered Josef K., for one morning, without having done anything wrong, he was arrested. His landlady, Frau Grubach, had a cook who brought him breakfast each day around eight, but this time she didn’t appear. That had never happened before. K. waited a while longer, watching from his pillow the old woman who lived across the way, who was peering at him with a curiosity quite unusual for her; then, both put out and hungry, he rang. There was an immediate knock at the door and a man he’d never seen before in these lodgings entered. He was slender yet solidly built, and was wearing a fitted black jacket, which, like a traveler’s outfit, was provided with a variety of pleats, pockets, buckles, buttons and a belt, and thus appeared eminently practical, although its purpose remained obscure. “Who are you?” asked K., and immediately sat halfway up in bed. But the man ignored the question, as if his presence would have to be accepted, and merely said in turn: “You rang?” “Anna’s to bring me breakfast,” K. said, scrutinizing him silently for a moment, trying to figure out who he might be. But the man didn’t submit to his inspection for long, turning instead to the door and opening it a little in order to tell someone who was apparently standing just behind it: “He wants Anna to bring him breakfast.” A short burst of laughter came from the adjoining room; it was hard to tell whether more than one person had joined in. Although the stranger could hardly have learned anything new from this, he nonetheless said to K., as if passing on a message: “It’s impossible.” “That’s news to me,” K. said, jumping out of bed and quickly pulling on his trousers. “I’m going to find out who those people are next door, and how Frau Grubach can justify such a disturbance just opposite me.” Although he realized at once that he shouldn’t have spoken aloud, and that by doing so he had, in a sense, acknowledged the stranger’s right to oversee his actions, that didn’t seem important at the moment. Still, the stranger took it that way, for he said: “Wouldn’t you rather stay here?” “I have no wish to stay here, nor to be addressed by you, until you’ve introduced yourself.” “I meant well,” the stranger said, and now opened the door of his own accord. In the adjoining room, which K. entered more slowly than he had intended, everything looked at first glance almost exactly as it had on the previous evening. It was Frau Grubach’s living room; perhaps there was slightly more space than usual amid the clutter of furniture coverlets china and photographs, but it wasn’t immediately obvious, especially since the major change was the presence of a man sitting by the open window with a book, from which he now looked up. “You should have stayed in your room! Didn’t Franz tell you that?” “What is it you want, then?” K. said, glancing from the new man to the one called Franz, who had stopped in the doorway, and then back again. Through the open window the old woman was visible again, having moved with truly senile curiosity to the window directly opposite, so she could keep an eye on everything. “I’d still like Frau Grubach—” K. said, and started to walk out, making a gesture as if he were tearing himself loose from the two men, who were, however, standing some distance from him. “No,” said the man by the window, tossing his book down on a small table and standing up. “You can’t leave, you’re being held.” “So it appears,” said K. “But why?” “We weren’t sent to tell you that. Go to your room and wait. Proceedings are under way and you’ll learn everything in due course. I’m exceeding my instructions by talking to you in such a friendly way. But I hope no one hears except Franz, and he’s being friendly too, although it’s against all regulations. If you’re as fortunate from now on as you’ve been with the choice of your guards, you can rest easy.” K. wanted to sit down, but he now saw that there was nowhere to sit in the entire room except for the chair by the window. “You’ll come to realize how true that all is,” said Franz, walking toward him with the other man. The latter in particular towered considerably over K. and patted him several times on the shoulder. Both of them examined K.’s nightshirt, saying that he would have to wear a much worse one now, but that they would look after this one, as well as the rest of his undergarments, and if his case turned out well, they’d return them to him. “You’re better off giving the things to us than leaving them in the depository,” they said, “there’s a lot of pilfering there, and besides, they sell everything after a time, whether the proceedings in question have ended or not. And trials like this last so long, particularly these days! Of course you’d get the proceeds from the depository in the end, but first of all they don’t amount to much, since sales aren’t based on the size of the offer but on the size of the bribe, and secondly, experience shows that they dwindle from year to year as they pass from hand to hand.” K. scarcely listened to this speech; he attached little value to whatever right he might still possess over the disposal of his things, it was much more important to him to gain some clarity about his situation; but he couldn’t even think in the presence of these men: the belly of the second guard—they surely must be guards—kept bumping against him in a positively friendly way, but when he looked up he saw a face completely at odds with that fat body: a dry, bony face, with a large nose set askew, consulting above his head with the other guard. What were they talking about? What sort of people were these? What office did they belong to? After all, K. lived in a state governed by law, there was universal peace, all statutes were in force; who dared assault him in his own lodgings? He’d always tended to take things lightly, to believe the worst only when it arrived, making no provision for the future, even when things looked bad. But that didn’t seem the right approach here; of course he could treat the whole thing as a joke, a crude joke his colleagues at the bank were playing on him for some unknown reason, perhaps because today was his thirtieth birthday, that was certainly possible, perhaps all he had to do was laugh in the guards’ faces and they would laugh with him, perhaps they were porters off the street-corner, they looked a little like porters—nevertheless, from the moment he’d first seen the guard named Franz, he had decided firmly that this time he wouldn’t let even the slightest advantage he might have over these people slip through his fingers. K. knew there was a slight risk someone might say later that he hadn’t been able to take a joke, but he clearly recalled—although he generally didn’t make it a practice to learn from experience—a few occasions, unimportant in themselves, when, unlike his friends, he had deliberately behaved quite recklessly, without the least regard for his future, and had suffered the consequences. That wasn’t going to happen again, not this time at any rate: if this was a farce, he was going to play along.",What sort of men were they? What were they talking about? What office did they represent?,1,0.5855752,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 In the middle, there was a cake of Savoy, in the shape of a temple, with a dome of melon ribs; and on the dome was planted an artificial rose, near which swung a silver paper butterfly on the end of a wire. Dessert was served.","Mayor Doctor Langhals, an elegantly stocky gentleman who hides his shaved chin in a white bandage, with short, gray chops and a tired diplomatic look, is received with general deference. The wine merchant Consul Eduard Kistenmaker and his wife, who was born Möllendorpf, and his brother and partner Stephan, Senator Buddenbrook's most loyal supporter and friend, have arrived with his wife, an extraordinarily healthy landowner's daughter. The widowed Senator Möllendorpf is enthroned in the living room in the middle of the sofa, while her children, Consul August Möllendorpf with his wife Julchen, née Hagenström, have just arrived, congratulated them and move through the assembly to say hello.",0,0.52329856,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 Stronger and stronger, with a convulsive impulse, squeezing Virginsky from behind with his hands, he squealed incessantly and without interruption, his eyes bulging at everyone and his mouth extremely open, and with his feet he stamped lightly on the ground, as if beating out a drum roll on it. Lyamshin shouted not in a human, but in some animal voice. Virginsky was so frightened that he himself screamed like a madman, and in a kind of frenzy, so vicious that it was impossible to assume from Virginsky, he began to twitch from Lyamshin's hands, scratching and pounding him as much as he could get from behind with his hands. There are strong moments of fright, for example, when a person suddenly screams not in his own voice, but in some kind that could not be expected in him before, and this is sometimes even very scary.","There are strong moments of fear, for instance, when a man will suddenly cry out in a voice not his own, but such as one could not even have supposed him to have before then, and the effect is sometimes even quite frightful. Lyamshin cried not with a human but with some sort of animal voice. Squeezing Virginsky from behind harder and harder with his arms, in a convulsive fit, he went on shrieking without stop or pause, his eyes goggling at them all, and his mouth opened exceedingly wide, while his feet rapidly stamped the ground as if beating out a drum roll on it. Virginsky got so scared that he cried out like a madman himself and tried to tear free of Lyamshin's grip in some sort of frenzy, so viciously that one even could not have expected it of Virginsky, scratching and punching him as well he was able to reach behind him with his arms.",1,0.5856937,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 ‘You don’t know what these passions and anxieties have cost me!’ he went on. ‘I have had no other thought since I met you. And now, too, I repeat that you are my only aim, you alone. I shall die, I shall go mad if I have not got you beside me! I breathe, look, think, and feel only with you. Why are you surprised that I fall asleep and go to pieces on the days I don’t see you? Everything is disgusting to me, everything is boring; I'm a machine: I walk, I do, and I don't notice what I'm doing. You are the fire and the force of this machine,’ he declared, kneeling and straightening himself.","cried Razumikhin at last. ‘Are you making fun of one another, or what? Sitting there and making game of each other!",0,0.5231158,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 Fedora says you used to live ever so much better than you do now. Why, you will be disturbed and worried; you are cramped for room, uncomfortable. Can you have spent all your life like this in solitude, in privation, without pleasure, without a friendly affectionate word, a lodger among strangers? You love solitude, and here, goodness knows what you have all about you! What possessed you, for instance, to take such a lodging? It is clear that you are depriving yourself of necessities for my sake. Whatever you may say, however you may reckon over your income to deceive me, to prove that your money is all spent on yourself, you won’t take me in and you won’t hide anything from me. You might live a great deal better, judging from your salary.","Whatever you say there, no matter how you calculate your income in order to deceive me, to show that they all go to you alone, but you will not conceal or hide anything from me. It is clear that you are deprived of what you need because of me. What did you think of, for example, to rent such an apartment? After all, you are worried, disturbed; you are cramped, uncomfortable. You love solitude, and here there is something that is not around you! And you could live much better, judging by your salary. Fedora says that you lived better before and unlike now. Have you really lived your whole life like this, alone, in deprivation, without joy, without a friendly friendly word, hiring corners from strangers?",1,0.58593065,1
+"lexical = 100, order = 100 Great as was Madame Odintsov's self-control, and superior as she was to every kind of prejudice, she felt awkward when she went into the dining-room to dinner. The meal went off fairly successfully, however. Porfiry Platonovitch made his appearance and told various anecdotes; he had just come back from the town. Among other things, he informed them that the governor had ordered his secretaries on special commissions to wear spurs, in case he might send them off anywhere for greater speed on horseback. Arkady talked in an undertone to Katya, and diplomatically attended to the princess's wants. Bazarov maintained a grim and obstinate silence. Madame Odintsov looked at him twice, not stealthily, but straight in the face, which was bilious and forbidding, with downcast eyes, and contemptuous determination stamped on every feature, and thought: 'No ... No ... no ... no ... After dinner, she went with the whole company into the garden, and seeing that Bazarov wanted to speak to her, she took a few steps to one side and stopped. He went up to her, but even then did not raise his eyes, and said hoarsely—",no ... no.' ...,1,0.5861676,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 On only once was he avenged a little. He stood there, with his girlish arms, up to his belly in the rather murky water, on the surface of which green formations of plants, so-called goose feed, floated here and there, and looked at the two with knitted brows, a dark look and slightly pursed lips. They pinched and taunted him during the “gymnastics games”, they pushed him into the snow sweepings on the ice rink, they came at him through the water in the swimming pool with threatening noises… Hanno didn’t try to escape, which incidentally would have been of little use. They had muscles on their arms, the two Hagenstroms, and with that they clasped him and dunked him, dunked him for quite a long time, so that he swallowed quite a bit of the unclean water and long afterwards, tossing and turning, gasping for breath... who, sure of their prey, came along with long, foaming strides.","This was the “children’s room.” Throughout the house this was the name by which the room was known and referred to. The house was so cold and the courtyard so damp that Aunt Elisabeth had been afraid that Christine and Renée might catch a chill from the walls. She had often scolded the active little girls, who liked to race through the arcades and dip their tiny arms into the frigid water of the fountain. Then it occurred to her to have the forgotten loft fixed up for them, this being for centuries the only spot in the house where the sun was allowed in to disport itself in solitude among the spider-webs. She had given them a mat, some birds, and flowers. The girls were delighted. During vacations, Renée lived up there, bathing in the warm yellow rays of the sun, which seemed pleased with the way its hideout had been fixed up and with the two blondes it had been sent. The chamber became a paradise, resounding with the songs of the birds and the babble of the little girls. Ownership had been ceded entirely to them.",0,0.52268946,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 He surprised me by asking whether I remembered the threefold aim of the Order: (1) The preservation and study of the mystery, (2) The purification and reformation of oneself for its reception, and (3) The improvement of the human race by striving for such purification. I told him everything as best I could, and told him what I had proposed to our Petersburg Lodge, of the bad reception I had encountered, and of my rupture with the Brothers. Which is the principal aim of these three? Iosif Alexeevich, having remained silent and thoughtful for a good while, told me his view of the matter, which at once lit up for me my whole past, and the future path I should follow.","But no—I cannot say that I had NEVER foreseen it, for my mind DID get an inkling of what was coming, through my seeing something very similar to it in a dream. I will tell you the whole story—simply, and as God may put it into my heart. Today I went to the office as usual, and, upon arrival, sat down to write. You must know that I had been engaged on the same sort of work yesterday, and that, while executing it, I had been approached by Timothei Ivanovitch with an urgent request for a particular document. “Makar Alexievitch,” he had said, “pray copy this out for me. Copy it as quickly and as carefully as you can, for it will require to be signed today.” Also let me tell you, dearest, that yesterday I had not been feeling myself, nor able to look at anything.",0,0.5222022,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 The neat young man never answered, but with bread, and with meat, and with all the dishes, it turned out the same: he would pick up a piece on a fork into the light, examine it as though under a microscope, it would take a long time to decide and finally decide on mouth send. “See, what a little barcheon has appeared,” Grigory muttered, looking at him. Fedor Pavlovich, hearing about Smerdyakov's new quality, decided immediately that he should be a cook, and sent him to study in Moscow. He spent several years in the studies and returned, greatly changing his face. He suddenly somehow unusually aged, quite even inadequately with age, wrinkled, turned yellow, began to resemble the eunuch. Morally, he returned almost the same as before leaving for Moscow: he was still unsociable and did not feel the slightest need in anyone's society. He was silent in Moscow too, as they later reported; Moscow itself was somehow extremely little interested in him, so that he recognized only something in it, and did not pay attention to everything else. I even went to the theater once, but returned silently and with displeasure. But he came to us from Moscow in a good dress, in a clean frock coat and linen, he very carefully brushed his dress himself, invariably twice a day, and he loved to clean his dandy boots with a special English wax so that they sparkled like a mirror ... He turned out to be an excellent cook. Fyodor Pavlovich gave him a salary, and Smerdyakov used this salary almost intact on dress, lipstick, perfume, and so on. Smerdyakov’s epileptic fits became worse and on those days Martha had to cook for the master. Now Karamazov started to look at him again with different eyes. However, he seemed to despise women as much as he despised men and was cool and distant with them. ","One would think that it would have been too difficult for everyone to speak of the two in question; the third, precisely because it is so unreal, is the easy part of the task, they could all do it. Right at the beginning of their dramas one notices the impatience to get to the third one, they could hardly wait for him. As long as he is there, everything is fine. But how boring when he's late, absolutely nothing can happen without him, everything stands still, stands still, waits. Yes, and what if it stayed with this queuing and queuing?",0,0.52195853,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 Katerina Ivanovna had now cheered up, and launched straight away into a most detailed explanation of how she was going to use the pension that she was about to receive to set up a boarding school for young ladies in her home town of T——. * Raskolnikov had never heard of this boarding school from Katerina Ivanovna, and she instantly began expanding on all its most attractive details. Somehow or other she turned out to have in her hands that same ‘certificate of merit’ that Marmeladov himself had described to Raskolnikov, when they were in the drinking shop and he had told him how his wife Katerina Ivanovna, on leaving school, had danced the shawl dance ‘in the presence of the Governor and other personages’. This certificate was evidently now intended to demonstrate Katerina Ivanovna’s right to set up her own boarding school; but more importantly still, it had been kept in reserve as a final put-down to ‘those two tarted-up draggle-tails’, should they turn up to the wake, and as conclusive proof that Katerina Ivanovna came from ‘the most honourable, one might even say aristocratic home, that she was a colonel’s daughter, and undoubtedly superior to certain adventure-seekers of whom there were so many about these days’. The certificate of merit was immediately passed round the drunken guests, with Katerina Ivanovna doing nothing to prevent it, because it did indeed state en toutes lettres that she was the daughter of a Court Councillor with a civil decoration, and in consequence was really almost a colonel’s daughter. * Getting rather carried away, Katerina Ivanovna went on to describe in full detail the fine and tranquil life she would lead at T——, and mentioned the high-school teachers she would invite to give lessons at her establishment, and a certain respectable old Frenchman, Monsieur Mangot, who had taught French to Katerina Ivanovna herself when she was a schoolgirl, and who was still living out his days in T—— and would no doubt come and teach at her school at a most reasonable rate. Eventually her talk turned to Sonia too, ‘who would accompany Katerina Ivanovna to T—— and assist her in every way’. But at that someone snorted with laughter, and although Katerina Ivanovna tried to pretend that she scorned to notice the mirth that erupted at the far end of the table, she immediately raised her voice and started talking enthusiastically about Sofia Semionovna’s undoubted qualifications to serve as her assistant, and how ‘meek, long-suffering, selfless, noble and well-educated’ she was. And she patted Sonia on the cheek, and stood up to give her a couple of affectionate kisses. Sonia flushed, and Katerina Ivanovna suddenly burst into tears, telling herself that ‘she was a silly, nervous thing and much too upset, and it was time to finish; and since the meal was over it was time to pour the tea’. At that very moment Amalia Ivanovna, by now thoroughly offended at not having had the slightest part in this whole conversation, nor even been listened to, ventured on one last effort and allowed herself, despite secret misgivings, to risk imparting to Katerina Ivanovna a highly practical and well-considered suggestion: that in her future boarding school she would need to pay particular attention to the young ladies’ linen (die Wäsche) and ‘is absolute necessary there is one very good lady (die Dame) that is after the linen vell looking’, and furthermore, ‘that all young ladies in night-time not secretly any novel reading’. , and in order to really imagine her father, Amalia Ivanovna jumped up from her chair, thrust both her hands into her pockets, puffed out her cheeks and began to make some indefinite sounds with her mouth, similar to poof-poof, at the loud laughter of all the tenants, who on purpose encouraged Amalia Ivanovna with their approval, anticipating a fight. Amalia Ivanovna did not take it down and immediately declared that her “vater aus Berlin bul osh, osh important man and walked with both hands in his pocket and did everything that way: poof! Katerina Ivanovna, who was really upset and very tired, and who was already completely tired of the commemoration, immediately “cut off” Amalia Ivanovna that she was “talking nonsense” and did not understand anything; that worries about the devil are the business of the housekeeper, and not the headmistress of a noble boarding house; and as far as reading novels, it's just plain indecent, and that she asks her to be quiet. To this, Amalia Ivanovna quite consistently remarked that she ""invited those ladies, but that those ladies would not come, because they would give noble ladies and could not come to ignoble ladies."" poof!"" Katerina Ivanovna immediately ""stressed"" her that, since she was a chumicka, she could not judge what true nobility was. Amalia Ivanovna flared up and, embittered, remarked that she only ""wished well"" and that she ""wished a lot of good things"", and that ""the geld had not paid her for apartments for a long time."" Katerina Ivanovna immediately ""suspended"" her, saying that she was lying, saying that she ""wished well,"" because only yesterday, when the dead man was still lying on the table, she had tormented her for her apartment. Katerina Ivanovna could stand this no longer, and rapped out in everyone’s hearing that Amalia Ivanovna might well have never had a Vater at all, being nothing but a drunken Petersburg Finn who had very likely once served as someone ’s cook, if not worse. Amalia Ivanovna flushed red as a lobster and shrieked that it might be Katerina Ivanovna who ‘is never at all a Vater having’, but she herself had a ‘Vater aus Berlin who is such long frock-coat wearing and always making Puff! Puff! Puff!’ Katerina Ivanovna replied contemptuously that her own origins were known to all and that this very same certificate of merit stated in print that her father was a colonel; but that Amalia Ivanovna’s father (if indeed she had ever had one) had no doubt been some sort of Petersburg Finn and a milk merchant; even more likely, she had never had a father at all, since to this very day nobody knew what Amalia Ivanovna’s patronymic was—was she Ivanovna or Ludwigovna? * Amalia Ivanovna, now wild with fury, thumped her fist on the table and shrieked that she was ‘Amal-Ivan’ and not Ludwigovna, and her Vater ‘is Johann calling and he is Bürgermeister’, * and that Katerina Ivanovna’s Vater ‘is quite never a Bürgermeister being’. Katerina Ivanovna rose from her chair and remarked in a stern but seemingly calm voice (though she had turned very pale and her chest was heaving) that if she ever again dared ‘to mention her wretched little Vater in the same breath as her own Papenka, then she, Katerina Ivanovna, would tear off her cap and stamp on it’. On hearing this, Amalia Ivanovna began running about the room shouting at the top of her voice that she was the mistress of the house and that Katerina Ivanovna was ‘in this minute from the flat leaving’; after which for some reason she rushed to retrieve her silver spoons from the table. Amid shouts and uproar, the children burst into tears. Sonia ran to try and restrain Katerina Ivanovna; but when Amalia Ivanovna suddenly yelled something about a yellow card, Katerina Ivanovna shoved Sonia aside and advanced on Amalia Ivanovna, meaning to carry out her threat about the cap on the spot. At that moment the door opened, and on the threshold appeared Piotr Petrovich Luzhin. He stood and surveyed the assembled company with a stern, piercing gaze. Katerina Ivanovna ran over to him.","Katerina Ivanovna, who really was very tired and upset, and quite fed up with the wake by this time, instantly cut Amalia Ivanovna short and retorted that she was ‘talking a lot of rubbish’ and didn’t understand anything; that attending to die Wäsche was the housekeeper’s business and not that of the directress of a superior boarding school; and as for reading novels, the whole idea was most improper and would she kindly hold her tongue. Amalia Ivanovna fired up and venomously remarked that she ‘only wishing good’, and ‘always very much wishing good’, but that she ‘is for long time not paid das Geld for lodging’. Katerina Ivanovna instantly ‘put her down’ again, maintaining that her claim to be ‘wishing good’ was a lie, since only yesterday, with the dead man still laid out on the table, she had been badgering her for the rent. To this Amalia Ivanovna very logically replied that she ‘inviting those ladies, but those ladies not coming because those ladies respectable ladies are, and to unrespectable lady not can come’. Katerina Ivanovna forcefully pointed out to her that since she was a slut she couldn’t judge what true respectability meant. Amalia Ivanovna couldn’t put up with this and instantly announced that her ‘Vater aus Berlin is very, very important person and with both hands in pockets walking, and all the time so speaking: Puff! Puff!’ And in order to better portray her father, Amalia Ivanovna sprang up from her chair, shoved both hands in her pockets, blew out her cheeks, and began uttering indistinct noises that sounded like ‘puff-puff’; all the lodgers laughed loudly at this and tried to egg her on, in the hopes of a fight.",1,0.5872331,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 40 You have peasants so that you patronize them in their peasant life. - Well, what could be clearer? So try to make him a good farmer. well, here I am for you to judge ... what is the occupation of the peasant? In arable farming? What is life? The devil knows where they start from! .. Here Costanjoglo moved closer to Chichikov and, in order to get him to better understand the matter, took him on board, in other words - stuck his finger in the loop of his tailcoat. Well, listen:","And from that school there issues a workman who is good for nothing, whether in the country or in the town—a fellow who drinks and is for ever standing on his dignity. Yet still our landowners keep taking to philanthropy, to converting themselves into philanthropic knights-errant, and spending millions upon senseless hospitals and institutions, and so ruining themselves and turning their families adrift. Yes, that is all that comes of philanthropy.” Chichikov’s business had nothing to do with the spread of enlightenment, he was but seeking an opportunity to inquire further concerning the putting of refuse to lucrative uses; but Kostanzhoglo would not let him get a word in edgeways, so irresistibly did the flow of sarcastic comment pour from the speaker’s lips. “Yes,” went on Kostanzhoglo, “folk are always scheming to educate the peasant. But first make him well-off and a good farmer. THEN he will educate himself fast enough. As things are now, the world has grown stupid to a degree that passes belief. Look at the stuff our present-day scribblers write! Let any sort of a book be published, and at once you will see every one making a rush for it.",1,0.5874699,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 Of himself, however, the traveller had spoken little; or, if he had spoken at any length, he had done so in a general sort of way and with marked modesty. Indeed, at moments of the kind his discourse had assumed something of a literary vein, in that invariably he had stated that, being a worm of no account in the world, he was deserving of no consideration at the hands of his fellows; that in his time he had undergone many strange experiences; that subsequently he had suffered much in the cause of Truth; that he had many enemies seeking his life; and that, being desirous of rest, he was now engaged in searching for a spot wherein to dwell—wherefore, having stumbled upon the town in which he now found himself, he had considered it his bounden duty to evince his respect for the chief authorities of the place. This, and no more, was all that, for the moment, the town succeeded in learning about the new arrival. Naturally he lost no time in presenting himself at the Governor’s evening party. First, however, his preparations for that function occupied a space of over two hours, and necessitated an attention to his toilet of a kind not commonly seen. That is to say, after a brief post-prandial nap he called for soap and water, and spent a considerable period in the task of scrubbing his cheeks (which, for the purpose, he supported from within with his tongue) and then of drying his full, round face, from the ears downwards, with a towel which he took from the waiter’s shoulder. Twice he snorted into the waiter’s countenance as he did this, and then he posted himself in front of the mirror, donned a false shirt-front, plucked out a couple of hairs which were protruding from his nose, and appeared vested in a frockcoat of bilberry-coloured check. Thereafter driving through broad streets sparsely lighted with lanterns, he arrived at the Governor’s residence to find it illuminated as for a ball. Barouches with gleaming lamps, a couple of gendarmes posted before the doors, a babel of postillions’ cries—nothing of a kind likely to be impressive was wanting; and, on reaching the salon, the visitor actually found himself obliged to close his eyes for a moment, so strong was the mingled sheen of lamps, candles, and feminine apparel. Everything seemed suffused with light, and everywhere, flitting and flashing, were to be seen black coats—even as on a hot summer’s day flies revolve around a sugar loaf while the old housekeeper is cutting it into cubes before the open window, and the children of the house crowd around her to watch the movements of her rugged hands as those members ply the smoking pestle; and airy squadrons of flies, borne on the breeze, enter boldly, as though free of the house, and, taking advantage of the fact that the glare of the sunshine is troubling the old lady’s sight, disperse themselves over broken and unbroken fragments alike, even though the lethargy induced by the opulence of summer and the rich shower of dainties to be encountered at every step has induced them to enter less for the purpose of eating than for that of showing themselves in public, of parading up and down the sugar loaf, of rubbing both their hindquarters and their fore against one another, of cleaning their bodies under the wings, of extending their forelegs over their heads and grooming themselves, and of flying out of the window again to return with other predatory squadrons. Indeed, so dazed was Chichikov that scarcely did he realise that the Governor was taking him by the arm and presenting him to his (the Governor’s) lady. Yet the newly-arrived guest kept his head sufficiently to contrive to murmur some such compliment as might fittingly come from a middle-aged individual of a rank neither excessively high nor excessively low. Next, when couples had been formed for dancing and the remainder of the company found itself pressed back against the walls, Chichikov folded his arms, and carefully scrutinised the dancers. Some of the ladies were dressed well and in the fashion, while the remainder were clad in such garments as God usually bestows upon a provincial town. Also here, as elsewhere, the men belonged to two separate and distinct categories; one of which comprised slender individuals who, flitting around the ladies, were scarcely to be distinguished from denizens of the metropolis, so carefully, so artistically, groomed were their whiskers, so presentable their oval, clean-shaven faces, so easy the manner of their dancing attendance upon their womenfolk, so glib their French conversation as they quizzed their female companions. As for the other category, it comprised individuals who, stout, or of the same build as Chichikov (that is to say, neither very portly nor very lean), backed and sidled away from the ladies, and kept peering hither and thither to see whether the Governor’s footmen had set out green tables for whist. Their features were full and plump, some of them had beards, and in no case was their hair curled or waved or arranged in what the French call “the devil-may-care” style. On the contrary, their heads were either close-cropped or brushed very smooth, and their faces were round and firm. This category represented the more respectable officials of the town. In passing, I may say that in business matters fat men always prove superior to their leaner brethren; which is probably the reason why the latter are mostly to be found in the Political Police, or acting as mere ciphers whose existence is a purely hopeless, airy, trivial one. Again, stout individuals never take a back seat, but always a front one, and, wheresoever it be, they sit firmly, and with confidence, and decline to budge even though the seat crack and bend with their weight. In the end the fat man, after serving God and his Tsar and winning universal respect, leaves the service, moves away and becomes a landowner, a hearty hospitable Russian gentleman,—he gets on, and indeed gets on very well. And when he has gone, his thin heirs in accordance with the Russian tradition make ducks and drakess of all their father’s property. I cannot disguise the fact that such were the reflections which occupied Tchitchikov’s mind while he was scrutinising the company and the result was that he finally joined the fat ones, among whom he found all the personages he knew: the public prosecutor with very black thick eyebrows and with the left eye given to winking slightly as though to say: “Come into the next room, my boy, I have something to tell you,” though he was a serious and taciturn man; the postmaster, a short man who was a wit and a philosopher; the president of the court, a very sagacious and polite man,—all of whom welcomed him as an old acquaintance while Tchitchikov responded to their civilities by profuse bows a little to one side The thin man will in three years’ time not have a single serf left unmortgaged: while if you take a quiet look round, the fat man has a house at the end of the town bought in the name of his wife; later on, at the other end of the town, another one, then a little village near the town, then an estate with all the conveniences. They are not fond of external display. Their coats are not so smartly cut as the thin man’s; their wardrobe is better stocked however. Also, he became acquainted with an extremely unctuous and approachable landowner named Manilov, and with a landowner of more uncouth exterior named Sobakevitch—the latter of whom began the acquaintance by treading heavily upon Chichikov’s toes, and then begging his pardon. Next, Chichikov received an offer of a “cut in” at whist, and accepted the same with his usual courteous inclination of the head. Seating themselves at a green table, the party did not rise therefrom till supper time; and during that period all conversation between the players became hushed, as is the custom when men have given themselves up to a really serious pursuit. Even the Postmaster—a talkative man by nature—had no sooner taken the cards into his hands than he assumed an expression of profound thought, pursed his lips, and retained this attitude unchanged throughout the game. Only when playing a court card was it his custom to strike the table with his fist, and to exclaim (if the card happened to be a queen), “Now, old popadia 7!” and (if the card happened to be a king), “Now, peasant of Tambov!” To which ejaculations invariably the President of the Local Council retorted, “Ah, I have him by the ears, I have him by the ears!” And from the neighbourhood of the table other strong ejaculations relative to the play would arise, interposed with one or another of those nicknames which participants in a game are apt to apply to members of the various suits. I need hardly add that, the game over, the players fell to quarrelling, and that in the dispute our friend joined, though so artfully as to let every one see that, in spite of the fact that he was wrangling, he was doing so only in the most amicable fashion possible. Never did he say outright, “You played the wrong card at such and such a point.” No, he always employed some such phrase as, “You permitted yourself to make a slip, and thus afforded me the honour of covering your deuce.” Indeed, the better to keep in accord with his antagonists, he kept offering them his silver-enamelled snuff-box (at the bottom of which lay a couple of violets, placed there for the sake of their scent). In particular did the newcomer pay attention to landowners Manilov and Sobakevitch; so much so that his haste to arrive on good terms with them led to his leaving the President and the Postmaster rather in the shade. At the same time, certain questions which he put to those two landowners evinced not only curiosity, but also a certain amount of sound intelligence; for he began by asking how many peasant souls each of them possessed, and how their affairs happened at present to be situated, and then proceeded to enlighten himself also as their standing and their families. Indeed, it was not long before he had succeeded in fairly enchanting his new friends. In particular did Manilov—a man still in his prime, and possessed of a pair of eyes which, sweet as sugar, blinked whenever he laughed—find himself unable to make enough of his enchanter. Clasping Chichikov long and fervently by the hand, he besought him to do him, Manilov, the honour of visiting his country house (which he declared to lie at a distance of not more than fifteen versts from the boundaries of the town); and in return Chichikov averred (with an exceedingly affable bow and a most sincere handshake) that he was prepared not only to fulfil his friend’s behest, but also to look upon the fulfilling of it as a sacred duty. In the same way Sobakevitch said to him laconically: “And do you pay ME a visit,” and then proceeded to shuffle a pair of boots of such dimensions that to find a pair to correspond with them would have been indeed difficult—more especially at the present day, when the race of epic heroes is beginning to die out in Russia.","For comeliness of exterior they care not a rap, and therefore a dress coat sits less easily on their figures than is the case with figures of leaner individuals. Yet invariably fat men amass the greater wealth. In three years’ time a thin man will not have a single serf whom he has left unpledged; whereas —well, pray look at a fat man’s fortunes, and what will you see? First of all a suburban villa, and then a larger suburban villa, and then a villa close to a town, and lastly a country estate which comprises every amenity! That is to say, having served both God and the State, the stout individual has won universal respect, and will end by retiring from business, reordering his mode of life, and becoming a Russian landowner—in other words, a fine gentleman who dispenses hospitality, lives in comfort and luxury, and is destined to leave his property to heirs who are purposing to squander the same on foreign travel. That the foregoing represents pretty much the gist of Chichikov’s reflections as he stood watching the company I will not attempt to deny. And of those reflections the upshot was that he decided to join himself to the stouter section of the guests, among whom he had already recognised several familiar faces—namely, those of the Public Prosecutor (a man with beetling brows over eyes which seemed to be saying with a wink, “Come into the next room , my friend, for I have something to say to you”—though, in the main, their owner was a man of grave and taciturn habit), of the Postmaster (an insignificant-looking individual, yet a would-be wit and a philosopher), and of the President of the Local Council (a man of much amiability and good sense). These three personages greeted Chichikov as an old acquaintance, and to their salutations he responded with a sidelong, yet a sufficiently civil, bow.",1,0.5878248,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 I met my cousin Sasha. To see her going to wrack and ruin shocked me terribly. Moreover, it has reached me, through a side wind, that she has been making inquiry for me, and dogging my footsteps, under the pretext that she wishes to pardon me, to forget the past, and to renew our acquaintance. Well, among other things she told me that, whereas you are not a kinsman of mine, that she is my nearest relative; that you have no right whatever to enter into family relations with us; and that it is wrong and shameful for me to be living upon your earnings and charity. Also, she said that I must have forgotten all that she did for me, though thereby she saved both myself and my mother from starvation, and gave us food and drink; that for two and a half years we caused her great loss; and, above all things, that she excused us what we owed her. Even my poor mother she did not spare. Would that she, my dead parent, could know how I am being treated! But God knows all about it.... Also, Anna declared that it was solely through my own fault that my fortunes declined after she had bettered them; that she is in no way responsible for what then happened; and that I have but myself to blame for having been either unable or unwilling to defend my honour. Great God! WHO, then, has been at fault? According to Anna, Hospodin [Mr.] Bwikov was only right when he declined to marry a woman who—But need I say it? It is cruel to hear such lies as hers. What is to become of me I do not know. I tremble and sob and weep. Indeed, even to write this letter has cost me two hours. At least it might have been thought that Anna would have confessed HER share in the past. Yet see what she says!... For the love of God do not be anxious about me, my friend, my only benefactor. Thedora is over apt to exaggerate matters. I am not REALLY ill. I have merely caught a little cold. I caught it last night while I was walking to Bolkovo, to hear Mass sung for my mother. Ah, mother, my poor mother! Could you but rise from the grave and learn what is being done to your daughter! ","My hearers may have been young men, or well off; certainly they cannot have been laughing with evil intent at what I had said.",0,0.5209533,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 20 Some knowing person would reply: “That’s Dr. Santiago, who married that young lady there a few days ago: she’s Dona Capitolina. They married after a long childhood romance; they live in Glória, and their families reside on Matacavalos.” In the street, many turned their heads around in curiosity, others stopped, and some asked: “Who are they?”. I invented walks so that I could be seen, recognized, and envied. Then both would say: “She’s a fine figure of a woman!” And when I found myself down in town again, walking the streets with her, stopping, looking, talking, I felt the same thing.","And when I saw myself below, treading the streets with her, stopping, looking, talking, I felt the same thing. I invented tours so that they would see me, confirm me and envy me. On the street, many turned their heads curiously, others stopped, some asked: “Who are they?” and an acquaintance explained: “This is Dr. Santiago, who a few days ago married that girl, Dona Capitolina, after a long childhood passion; live in Glória, the families live in Matacavalos”. And both of them: ""It's a mocetona!"".",1,0.58794314,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 20 They began angrily: “How are you, sir! What are you watching? the right paper, you need to hurry, and you spoil it. And how can you do it, ”here His Excellency turned to Evstafy Ivanovich. I only hear the sounds of words reach me: “ Negligence! indiscretion! Get into trouble!"" I opened my mouth for something. I wanted to ask for forgiveness, but I couldn’t, to run away - I didn’t dare to encroach, and then ... here, mother, it happened that even now I can hardly hold my pen from shame. My button - well, to hell with it - the button that was hanging on my thread - suddenly fell off, bounced off, jumped (I apparently hit it by accident), rang, rolled and straight, so straight, cursed, at the feet of His Excellency and this is in the middle of total silence! That was all my excuse, all my excuse, all my answer, all I was going to say to His Excellency! The consequences were terrible! His Excellency immediately drew attention to my figure and my costume. I remembered what I saw in the mirror: I rushed to catch the button! Found a fool on me! I bent down, I want to take a button, - it rolls, spins , I can’t catch it, in a word, and in terms of dexterity, I distinguished myself. Here I feel that even the last strength leaves me, that everything, everything is lost! All reputation is lost, the whole person is gone! And then in both ears, for no reason at all, Teresa and Faldoni, and went to call back. Finally he caught the button, got up, stretched out, yes, if he was a fool, he would have stood still to himself, his hands at his sides! But no: he began to fit the button to the torn threads, as if that's why it would stick; Yes, I'm still smiling, and I'm still smiling. His Excellency turned away at first, then looked at me again - I hear them say to Evstafy Ivanovich: “How is it? .. look at what form he is! .. how he is! .. what he is! here, how is he? What is he? distinguished himself! I hear Evstafiy Ivanovich say: “Not noticed, not noticed in anything, exemplary behavior, salary enough, according to salary ...” “Well, make it easier somehow,” says His Excellency. - Give him ahead ... ""- "" Yes, he took it, they say, he took it, he took it in advance for so much time. The circumstances, it’s true, are such, but good behavior has never been noticed, never noticed. ” I, my angel, was on fire, I was on fire in hell! I was dying! “Well,” His Excellency says loudly, “rewrite it again as soon as possible; Devushkin, come here, rewrite again without error; Yes, listen ... ” Here His Excellency turned to the others, distributed various orders, and everyone dispersed. As soon as they parted, His Excellency hurriedly takes out the scribe [11] and from it a hundred-ruble note. “Here,” they say, “whatever I can, consider it how you want ...” - and he put it in my hand. I, my angel, shuddered, my whole soul shook; I don't know what happened to me; I was about to grab their pen. And he blushed all over, my dear, yes - here I don’t deviate a hair’s breadth from the truth, my dear : he took my unworthy hand, and shook it, he took it and shook it, as if on a par with his own, as if the same , like himself, to the general. “Go, he says, as much as I can ... Don’t make mistakes, and now it’s a sin in half.”","- This is a misunderstanding! - I cried, - this is some one minute ... I ... I am now to you, prince!",0,0.52000886,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 20 Angrily, he began: ‘What is the meaning of this, sir? Where was your concentration? An important document, urgently required, and you go and spoil it. What is the meaning of it, eh?’ At that point His Excellency turned to Yevstafy Ivanovich. I could only hear certain isolated words and phrases: ‘Negligence! Indiscretion! You will get us into trouble!’ For some reason I suddenly had an urge to open my mouth. I wanted to beg forgiveness, but could not, I wanted to flee, but dared not attempt to, and then… then, little mother, something happened that even now makes the pen want to fall from my hand. One of my metal buttons – the devil take it – a button which had been hanging from my uniform by a thread – suddenly fell off (I must have brushed against it by accident), bounced on the floor with a ping, and rolled straight, just like that, the accursed object, to His Excellency is feet – and this while everyone was completely silent, too! There went any hope I might have had of excusing myself, of making an apology, of accounting for my misdeed – all the things I had been preparing to say to His Excellency! What happened next was dreadful. His Excellency at once fastened his attention on my appearance and on what I was wearing. I recalled what I had seen in the mirror: I rushed to retrieve the button! I lost my head! I stooped down and tried to get hold of the button, but it spun and rolled, in short, I couldn’t catch hold of it, and gave a fine display of dexterity in the process. Then I suddenly felt the last of my strength desert me, and knew that all, all was lost! My entire reputation was ruined, I was finished as a human being! And then, for no reason at all, I started to hear the voices of Teresa and Falcon, and my ears began to ring. At last I managed to retrieve the button, got to my feet, straightened myself up, and had I not been such a fool I would have stood to attention and kept still. But oh, no: I began pressing the button against the torn-off threads, as though that would make it stay on again; and, what is more, I smiled, and smiled again. At first His Excellency turned away, but then he glanced at me again – I could hear him saying to yevstafy Voinovich: ‘What on earth?… Look at the state he is in! … How does he… What does he…’ Oh, my darling, the sound of those words! I knew that this time I had truly excelled myself! I heard yevstafy Voinovich say: ‘He has a good record, has never put a foot wrong–exemplary conduct, draws a reasonable salary, in accordance with his grade…’ Well, do something to ease his position,’ said His Excellency. ‘Give him something in advance.’ ‘But he’s already been paid,’ Yevstay Voinovich replied. ‘ He’s been paid in advance for ages now. He must be having some difficulties or other – but he’s always shown good conduct, and he’s got a good record, a spotless record.’ I burned, my little angel, I burned in the fires of hell! I died inwardly! ‘ Well,’ His Excellency said in a loud voice, ‘it must be copied out again, and quickly; Devshkin, come here and copy it out again, without mistakes this time; and listen…’ At that point His Excellency turned to the other people present and issued various instructions; then they all went their separate ways. No sooner had they dispersed than His Excellency hurriedly took out his pocket-book and produced a hundred ruble note from it. ‘Here,’ he said. ‘It is the least I can do, look on it as you please…’–and he shoved it into my hand. My angel, I gave a start of shock, my whole being was shaken; I don’t know what came over me–I tried to kiss his hand. But he blushed all over, my little dove, and–I depart from the truth by not one hair is breaddi, my darling–he took my unworthy hand and shook.it, shook it properly as though it were the hand of someone who was his equal, someone equal in rank to himself, a general. ‘Off you go,’ he said, ‘it is the least I can do… Don’t make any more mistakes, but on this occasion we’ll manage to get by.’","But no: he began to fit the button to the torn threads, as if that's why it would stick; Yes, I'm still smiling, and I'm still smiling.",1,0.5890073,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 Chichikov bowed in acknowledgment. Learning that he was going to the Administrative Offices to execute the title deeds, Manilov expressed a willingness to accompany him there. The friends linked arms and started off together. At every slight rise in the ground, or a hummock, or a step, Manilov would support Chichikov and almost give him a hand up, adding with a pleasant smile that under no circumstances would he permit Pavel Ivanovich to stub his small feet. Chichikov felt compunction, not knowing how to thank him, inasmuch as he sensed that he was somewhat heavy on the hoof. Rendering each other such mutual services they managed, at last, to reach on foot the square where the Administrative Offices were located, a great, three-story building of stone, all as white as chalk, probably to convey an idea of the purity of soul of the functionaries who had their offices within. The other structures on the square were hardly in keeping with the grandeur of the stone building. These other structures were: a sentry box, near which a soldier with a gun was standing; two or three cabstands, and, to conclude the list, long board fences with the familiar fenciana and wall art, sketchily executed in charcoal and chalk. There was nothing else to be found upon this barren (or, as it would be described by our writing brethren, beautiful) square. From the windows of the second and third storeys, the incorruptible heads of the votaries of Themisbz were thrust out and instantly disappeared again: probably their chief entered the room at the moment. The friends did not walk up but rather dashed up the stairs, since Chichikov, trying to avoid being supported under the arm by Manilov, had quickened his step, whereupon Manilov, for his part, flew forward, striving not to allow Chichikov to become fatigued, and for that reason both were puffing quite hard as they stepped into the dark corridor. Neither in the corridors nor in the chambers were their eyes overwhelmed with cleanliness. At that time cleanliness was still not considered a matter to be greatly concerned about, and that which was dirty just remained dirty, without acquiring any attractiveness thereby. Themis in all her simplicity, just as she is, was receiving her guests in negligee and dressing gown. The chancellery chambers through which our heroes passed really merit description, but the author cherishes a strong timidity where all administrative places are concerned. Even when he has had occasion to traverse such of these chambers as had a resplendent and ennobled air about them, with waxed floors and highly polished tables, he has tried to dash through them as quickly as possible, with his eyes meekly lowered and fixed on the ground, and for that reason he is utterly ignorant of how well and flourishingly everything is going on there. Our heroes saw a great deal of paper, both for rough drafts and of the purest white for final copies; they saw heads bent over their work, and broad napes of necks, and many frock coats, and dress coats of a provincial cut, or simply some sort of short jacket of light gray that stood out quite sharply, which jacket, with its head twisted almost entirely to one side and all but resting on the very paper, was nimbly and with a full sweep writing out some protocol or other concerning a land-grab, or the inventory of an estate appropriated by some peaceful landed proprietor or other who was tranquilly finishing out his days while the suit was going on, and who had lived long enough to beget not only children but grandchildren under the benign shelter of this suit. And one could hear, in snatches, brief remarks uttered in a hoarse tenor: “ Lend me, Fedosei Fedoseevich, the file on Number Three Hundred and Sixty-Eight!” “You’re always dragging off the lid of the office ink bottle somewhere!” At times a voice, more majestic and beyond a doubt belonging to one of the higher officials, would ring out imperiously: “There, transcribe that! And if you don’t, I’ll have them take the boots off you and keep you here for six days without food or drink.” Great was the scratching of quills, and the sound thereof was as if several carts laden with brushwood were driving through a forest piled with dead leaves a yard deep.",Several heads of the incorruptible priests of Themis popped out of the windows on the second and third stories and hid themselves the same minute: probably a superior was entering the room at that moment.1,1,0.5894801,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 There was a noise in front of the door, shouts were heard and it was even as if someone was being brutally pushed against the door. A sailor came in, a bit wild, wearing a girl's apron. ""There are people outside,"" he cried, and kicked his elbows around as if he were still in the crowd. Finally he recovered his senses and was about to salute the captain when he noticed the girl's apron, tore it off, and threw it on the ground and yelled: ""That's disgusting, they put a girl's apron on me."" But then he clicked his heels together and saluted. Someone tried to laugh, but the captain said sternly, ""That's what I call a good mood. Who's outside?"" ‘They are my witnesses,’ said Schubal stepping forward, ‘I’d like to apologize for their behaviour. At the end of a long sea voyage, they sometimes get a little unruly.’ - ""Call them in immediately,"" ordered the captain and immediately turning to the senator he said obligingly but quickly: ""Now have the goodness honorable senator, to follow with your nephew this sailor who will take you on board. I don't think I need to say what a pleasure and what an honor it was to get to know you personally, Senator. I wish I could soon have the opportunity to resume our interrupted conversation about American naval conditions with you, Senator, and then perhaps be interrupted again in a pleasant way like today."" ""For the time being, that's enough for me that one nephew,"" said the uncle, laughing. ""And now accept my thanks for your kindness and farewell. Incidentally, it wouldn't be so impossible that we"" - he gave Karl a warm hug - ""maybe get together for a longer time on our next trip to Europe."" ""I would be very happy,"" said the captain. The two gentlemen shook hands, Karl could only offer his hand to the captain silently and fleetingly, because he was already occupied by the maybe fifteen people under the leadership of Schubal, a little concerned but very noisy, moved in. The sailor asked permission to go ahead of the senator and then divided the crowd for him and Karl, who easily got through the bowing people. It seemed that these otherwise good-natured people the Schubal's quarrel with the stoker as a joke, the ridiculousness of which did not stop even before the captain Karl noticed among them the kitchen maid Line, who, with a merry wink, tied on the apron thrown down by the sailor, because it was ih - rig.",Cosette did not stir.,0,0.5190947,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 . . Here Alexei Karamazov’s manuscript ends. I repeat, it is incomplete and fragmentary. For instance, the biographical information covers only the elder’s early youth. His views and teachings, uttered at different times and prompted by different circumstances, are gathered and arranged into what is, perhaps, a meaningful whole. It is impossible to determine how much of this the elder actually said in the last hours of his life, but the spirit of what he said can be gleaned from those earlier pronouncements of his which Alexei Karamazov mentions in his manuscript. The elder’s death came quite unexpectedly. For although those who were gathered about him that last evening realized that his death was approaching, yet it was difficult to imagine that it would come so suddenly. On the contrary, his friends, as I observed already, seeing him that night apparently so cheerful and talkative, were convinced that there was at least a temporary change for the better in his condition. Even five minutes before the end, as they later reported with wonderment, none of them suspected anything. He suddenly felt an acute pain in his chest, turned pale, and pressed his hand to his heart. They all rose from their seats and rushed to him. Although in pain, he was still smiling at them. He slipped slowly from his armchair to the floor, knelt, bowed his head to the ground, spread his arms, and, apparently in a state of ecstasy, praying and kissing the ground—as he had taught others to do—quietly and joyfully, he gave up his soul to God. The news of Zosima’s death immediately spread through the hermitage and reached the monastery. The departed’s closest friends, as well as those whose position and monastic rank made it their duty, began to lay out the body according to the ancient rites, and all the monks gathered in the monastery church. Before daybreak, it was said later, the news of the death had reached town. By morning, the whole town was talking of it and throngs of townspeople flowed toward the monastery. We shall say more of this in the next book, but for now we shall only warn the reader in advance that, before that day was over, something completely unexpected happened. It made such a strange, bewildering, and puzzling impression, both in the monastery and in town, that many people still remember it to this day.","For, although those who had gathered around him that evening knew that death was near, they never thought it would be so sudden. Indeed, as I mentioned earlier, seeing him so cheerful and talkative, they felt there was a noticeable improvement in his health, even if it was only for a short time.",1,0.5900707,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 “Like many another man, ladies and gentlemen,” the General began, “I too in the course of my life have happened to commit acts somewhat lacking in discretion. The most curious thing, however, is the short incident I’m now about to relate, which I regard as the very worst in my life. This goes back some thirty-five years. Every time I think of it, I’ve never been able to rid myself of a certain, as it were, harrowing sensation. In essence, the matter was exceedingly trivial. I was a mere ensign in the army and had to toe the line. All the same, you know how it is, an ensign – a hot-blooded young blade, but as poor as a church mouse. My batman at the time, Nikifor, was an attentive, solicitous chap; he pinched and scraped on my behalf wherever he could by fair means or foul, light-fingered as they come, he’d whip anything he could lay his hands on – all for my benefit. As trustworthy and honest a fellow as you could wish for! Of course I kept him on a tight rein, but I was fair with it. We happened to be garrisoned in a small town. I was quartered in a little house on the outskirts belonging to a sub lieutenant’s widow, as it happened. She was getting on for eighty or thereabouts, poor thing. The miserable little timber house she owned was decrepit and ramshackle, and she was so poor , she didn’t even have a maid. But what was remarkable, she’d had very many relatives in her time. However, as the years went by some died, others left, yet others forgot about her altogether. As for her husband, she’d buried him about forty-five years previously. Some three years before that she also had a niece living with her, hunchbacked, embittered, a veritable witch. People said she even bit the old woman’s finger once, but then she too died, so that for the past three years the old woman had to cope completely on her own. I was bored to death staying in her house, and she was so silly you couldn’t get any sense out of her. She ended up stealing a prize cockerel I kept. It was a shady affair that still hasn’t been cleared up to this day, but it had to be her. We fell out over that cockerel, and seriously at that, but just then, by coincidence, I was billeted, as soon as I applied, at the opposite end of the town with a large family, headed by a fellow with an enormous beard. I can still remember him. Nikifor and I moved in, and were jolly glad to leave the old hag behind. Three days or so went by , I returned from exercises, and Nikifor reported to me, ‘We shouldn’t have left our tureen behind at the previous landlady ’s. I’ve nothing to serve the soup in.’ I was flabbergasted of course: ‘What, what do you mean, how come our tureen was left behind?’ Nikifor expressed some surprise and went on to report that as we were leaving, the landlady had refused to hand over our tureen on the grounds that since I’d broken her very own earthenware pot, she was keeping the tureen in exchange for the pot, and that apparently I myself had made her that offer. Such a damnable trick on her part pushed me to the very brink, it sent my blood racing, I leapt to my feet and rushed over to her place. I arrived there, you can imagine, quite beside myself. There she was sitting in a corner of the passageway all on her own as though keeping out of the sunlight, her hand propping up her cheek. I went for her, you know, hammer and tongs, ‘You old this that and the other!’ You know how it goes in Russian. Only looking at her, I had a strange feeling – there she was sat on the floor, her face turned towards me, eyes bulging, not saying a word, swaying, I fancied, ever so weirdly from side to side. I stood back, staring hard at her, and spoke to her – no reply. I hesitated. Flies were buzzing around me, the sun was setting, silence. Utterly shocked, I at last turned back to go home. Before I reached home I was summoned to the Sergeant Major; from there I had to go to the company quarters, so that by the time I got home it was already dark. And the first thing Nikifor says to me: ‘Do you know, sir, our landlady has given up the ghost.’ ‘When?’ I asked. ‘Tonight, about an hour and a half ago.’ That means she was passing away just as I was giving her a piece of my mind. You know, I was so shocked , I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t get her out of my mind, she came to me in my sleep. I’m not superstitious, but I went to church three days later to attend her funeral. In a word, as time goes by, I think more and more about her. It’s not the end of the world, but the memory is difficult to shake off. What’s at the bottom of it all, I often think to myself? She had children, a husband and family, friends and relations; her household was busy and cheerful; she was surrounded by smiling faces; and then suddenly they are gone, and she is left alone like a solitary fly… like a fly, cursed with the burden of her age. And so God in his mercy had finally chosen to call it a day. With the setting sun, on a quiet summer’s evening, my old biddy departs this world. There is a moral here, of course. And it is this: that at the precise moment when a valedictory, sentimental tear would as it were have been called for, a young, desperate buck, an awful swankpot, both arms akimbo, sees her off the face of the earth with a torrent of choice Russian abuse on account of a godforsaken soup tureen! There is no doubting I was in the wrong, and though with the passage of years and the changes within myself, I’ve long been thinking about this episode in abstract terms, I can’t help coming back to it. Nay, I repeat, I am astonished! I may really be guilty, but there must have been some mitigating circumstances – why should she have chosen to die at that precise moment? It stands to reason that if there were a justification, it ought to be based on psychological grounds. All the same, I couldn’t rest until about fifteen years ago I adopted two chronically ill old grannies, maintaining them at my own expense at an almshouse in order to ease their remaining days on this earth with tender care. I’m thinking of perpetuating the arrangement when I come to make my will. Well, that’s about all. I repeat, I may have committed many wrongs in my life, but, in all conscience, I consider this to be the worst one of the lot.”","In short, Pokrovsky met with nothing but disappointment on all sides and this tried his temper. His health was suffering, but he paid no attention to it. Autumn was coming on, every day he went out in his thin little overcoat to try and get work, to beg and implore for a place, which was inwardly an agony to him; he used to get his feet wet and to be soaked through with the rain, and at last he took to his bed and never got up from it again.... He died in the middle of autumn at the end of October.",0,0.5181805,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 Do you understand?’",Oh! then that was it?,1,0.5907792,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 Let us admit it without bitterness, the individual has his distinct interest, and can without forfeiture stipulate for this interest and defend it; the present has its excusable amount of selfishness; the momentary life has its right, and is not obliged to sacrifice itself unceasingly in the future. The generation that currently has its right of passage over the earth is not forced to shorten it for the generations, its equals after all, who will have their turn later. ―I exist, whispers this someone called Tous. I am young and I am in love, I am old and I want to rest, I am a father , I work, I prosper, I do good business, I have houses to rent, I have money on the state, I am happy, I have a wife and children, I love all that —Hence, at certain hours, a profound cold broods over the magnanimous vanguard of the human race. I desire to live, leave me in peace. ” ",", I want to live, leave me alone. — Hence, at certain hours, a deep chill on the magnanimous vanguards of the human race.",1,0.59089726,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 The electric lights in the cabin grew more brilliant, and there came a desire to eat, drink, smoke, move . . . Then, suddenly, the anchor rumbled and fell with a splash into the water, the fierce yells of the boatman filled the air, —— and at once everyone's heart grew easy. Finally, in twilight, the black mass of the island began to grow nearer, as though burrowed through at the base by red fires, the wind grew softer, warmer, more fragrant; from the dock-lanterns huge golden serpents flowed down the tame waves which undulated like black oil . . . . .","The others were empty or closed off with panes of horn in wooden frames. A bird appeared, perched on the windowsill, chirped briefly, and then flew away. Outside the wall of the choir the sound of metal on stone could be heard. Otherwise everything was quiet; only the wind came in small gusts, sighed a little between the church walls, and then died away.",0,0.51793665,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 - No, I'll tell you, - the major got excited, turning to Stavrogin. “I count on you, Mr. Stavrogin, as on a new person who has entered, although I do not have the honor of knowing you. Without men, they will disappear like flies - that's my opinion. Their whole feminine question is just one lack of originality. I assure you that this whole feminine question was invented for them by men, foolishly, on their own necks - thank God that I am not married! Not the least diversity, sir, they cannot even invent a simple pattern; men even invent their patterns for them! Look here, sir, I used to carry her in my arms, danced the mazurka with her when she was ten years old, she came in today, naturally I flew to embrace her, and she announces to me from the second word that there is no God. Yes, at least from the third, and not from the second word, otherwise it’s in a hurry! Well, let's say smart people don't believe, because it's from the mind, and you, I say, are a bubble, what do you understand in God? After all, a student taught you, but if he taught you how to light lamps, you would light them.","Not the slightest variety, sir, a simple pattern will not be invented; and men invent patterns for them! Well, I carried her in my arms , I danced a mazurka with her, ten years old, today she arrived, I naturally fly to hug her, and from the second word she announces to me that there is no God.",1,0.5919591,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 pay it to you in the same currency. '' With all these circumstances, and in the same way that I am telling it, all those who are aware of the truth in this case tell it. In resolution, the two rulers, on foot and hand in hand, went to the mountain, and, arriving at the place and place where they thought they would find the donkey, they did not find him, nor did it appear in all those surroundings, although they looked for him more. Seeing, then, that it did not seem, said the alderman who had seen the other: `` Look, compadre: a trace has come to my mind, with which without a doubt we will be able to discover this animal, even if it is stuck in the entrails of the earth, not that of the mountain; and I know how to bray wonderfully; And if you know anything, consider the fact over. '' '' Do you say so much, compadre? said the other; By God, let him not give anyone the advantage, not even the same donkeys. '' `` Now we will see it, '' replied the second ruler, `` because I have determined that you will go through one part of the mountain and I through another, so that we surround it and walk all over, and from time to time you will bray and I will bray, and It cannot be less than that the donkey hears us and answers us, if it is in the mountains. '' To which the owner of the donkey replied: ""I say, compadre, that the layout is excellent and worthy of your great ingenuity."" And, dividing the two according to the agreement, it happened that almost at the same time they brayed, and each one, deluded by the other's braying, came to look for each other, thinking that the donkey had already appeared; and, looking at himself, the loser said: '' Is it possible, compadre, that it was not my ass that brayed? '' '' It was not, but me, '' replied the other. ""Now I say,"" said the owner, ""that from you to a donkey, compadre, there is no difference, as far as it touches the braying, because in my life I have seen or heard something more of my own."" ""Those praises and appreciation,"" replied the one with the trace, ""better concern you and touch you than me, compadre; that by the God who raised me that you can give two brays of advantage to the greatest and most expert braying of the world; because the sound you have is high; the sustain of the voice, at its time and beat; I leave them, many and hasty, and, in resolution, I give up and surrender the palm to you and give the flag of this rare ability. '' ""Now I say,"" replied the owner, ""that I will have and esteem myself in future, and I will think that I know something, because I have some grace; that, since I thought he brayed well, I never understood that the extreme you say was coming. '' ‘I’ll also say now,’ responded the second man, ‘that there are rare abilities in the world that are lost, and ill-used by those who don’t know how to take advantage of them.’ ""Ours,"" replied the owner, ""if it is not in similar cases like the one we are dealing with, they cannot serve us in others, and even in this case God pleads that they are of benefit to us. "" This being said, they divided again and returned to their braying, and at each step they deceived each other and came back together, until they took it as a password that, to understand that it was they, and not the donkey, they brayed twice, one after another. With this, bending the brays at every step, they surrounded the entire mountain without the lost donkey responding, not even by signs. But how was the poor and ill-accomplished man to respond, if they found him in the most hidden part of the forest, eaten by wolves? And when he saw him, his owner said: '' I was already amazed that he was not responding, because unless he was dead, he would bray if he heard us, or he was not an ass; But, in exchange for having heard you braying with such grace, compadre, I consider the work I have had to look for him as well spent, even though I have found him dead. '' ""He's in good hands, compadre,"" replied the other, ""because even though the abbot sings, the monacillo is not behind him. "" With this, disconsolate and hoarse, they returned to their village, where they told their friends, neighbors and acquaintances what had happened to them in search of the donkey, one exaggerating the other's grace in braying; all of which was known and spread to the surrounding areas. And the devil, who does not sleep, as he is a friend of sowing and spilling quarrels and discord everywhere, raising reeds in the wind and great chimeras of nonada, ordered and made the people of the other towns, in seeing some of our village , bray, as if striking them in the face with the braying of our aldermen. The boys gave into it, which was to give into the hands and mouths of all the demons of hell, and the braying spread from one to another town, so that the natives of the town of braying are known, as they are known and differentiated blacks from whites; and the misfortune of this mockery has reached so much, that many times with an armed hand and formed a squad the mocked ones have gone out against the mockers to fight, without being able to remedy it king or rock, neither fear nor shame. I believe that tomorrow or that day those of my town, which are the braying ones, will go out on the campaign against another place that is two leagues from ours, which is one of those that persecutes us the most: and, for coming out well prepared , I have bought these spears and halberds that you have seen. "" And these are the wonders that I said I had to tell you, and if you didn't think so, I don't know others.","I will also say now, replied the second, ""that there are rare lost abilities in the world, and that they are misused by those who do not know how to take advantage of them.""",1,0.5920771,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 This Varlet is poorer than ever was Irus, and yet he is a proud, vaunting, arrogant, self-conceited, overweening, and more insupportable than Seventeen Devils; in one word, Πτωχαλάζων, which term of old was applied to the like beggarly strutting Coxcombs. Then in turning to Epistemon, he said, Lo here the true Ollus of Martial, who addicted and devoted himself wholly to the observing the Miseries, Crosses, and Calamities of others, whilst his own Wife, in the Interim, did keep an open Bawdy-house. But whence comes this Cironworm betwixt these two Fingers? Come, let us leave this Madpash Bedlam, this hairbrain’d Fop, and give him leave to rave and dose his Belly-full, with his private and intimately acquainted Devils; who, if they were not the very worst of all the infernal Fiends, would never have daigned to serve such a knavish, barking Cur as this is. This Panurge said, putting the Fore-finger of his Left-hand, betwixt the Fore and Mid-finger of the Right, which he thrust out towards Her Trippa, holding them open after the manner of two Horns, and shutting into a Fist his Thumb, with the other Fingers.","But whence comes this flesh-worm here twixt my two fingers?’ So saying he pointed his first two fingers straight at Herr Trippa, spreading them wide to form two horns while bending his thumb and the other fingers into his palm.13 Then he said to Epistemon: ‘Behold the original Ollus in Martial, who devoted all his study to observing the maladies and misfortunes of others; meanwhile his wife was on a debauch. He, on the other hand, poorer than Irus ever was, remained as boastful, as overweening and as unbearable as seventeen devils: in a word, a ptôchalazôn, as the Ancients most properly termed such scurrilous rabble. ‘Let’s leave this loony idiot with his familiar spirits – he ought to be chained up – raving away to his heart’s content. Convince me some day that evil-spirits would serve such a wretch!",1,0.5920771,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 “He set out this morning for Paris; in fact, he need not even go through Paris; Montfermeil is a little to the left as you come thence. Do you remember how he said to me yesterday, when I spoke to him of Cosette, Soon, soon? He wants to give me a surprise, you know! he made me sign a letter so that she could be taken from the Thénardiers; they cannot say anything, can they? they will give back Cosette, for they have been paid; the authorities will not allow them to keep the child since they have received their pay. Do not make signs to me that I must not talk, sister! I am extremely happy; I am doing well; I am not ill at all any more; I am going to see Cosette again; I am even quite hungry; it is nearly five years since I saw her last; you cannot imagine how much attached one gets to children, and then, she will be so pretty; you will see! If you only knew what pretty little rosy fingers she had! In the first place, she will have very beautiful hands; she had ridiculous hands when she was only a year old; like this! she must be a big girl now; she is seven years old; she is quite a young lady; I call her Cosette, but her name is really Euphrasie. Stop! this morning I was looking at the dust on the chimney-piece, and I had a sort of idea come across me, like that, that I should see Cosette again soon. My God ! we should think carefully that life is not eternal! Is it really cold? Oh ! How good it is to be gone, Mr. Mayor! How wrong it is to go years without seeing your children! He'll be here tomorrow, won't he? It will be party tomorrow. Tomorrow morning, my sister, you will make me think of putting on my little bonnet which has lace. did he at least have his coat on? I did this route on foot, in time. It's been a long way for me. But the stagecoaches go very fast! Montfermeil is a country. he will be here to-morrow with Cosette: how far is it from here to Montfermeil?”","At the corner of the street an old beggar woman tagged along after him, keeping him company. At last the cart turned the corner and disappeared from view. I went home. When I got there, I threw myself on Mother’s breast in a terrible state of anguish. I pressed her in my arms as close as I possibly could, kissed her and sobbed violently, anxiously nestling against her as though in my embraces seeking to retain my last friend, and not surrender her to death.",0,0.5167174,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 Then a soldier pointing to the south said, “There is a beam of colored light rising from a well.” Sun Jian bade his people light torches and descend into the well. Soon they brought up the corpse of a woman, not in the least decayed although it had been there many days. She was dressed in palace clothing and from her neck hung an embroidered bag. Opening this a red box was found, with a golden lock, and when the box was opened, they saw a jade seal, square in shape, an inch each way. On it were delicately engraved five dragons intertwined. One corner had been broken off and repaired with gold. There were eight characters in the seal style of engraving which interpreted read, “I have received the command from Heaven: may my time be always long and prosperous.” Sun Jian showed this to his adviser, General Cheng Pu, who at once recognized it as the Imperial Hereditary Seal of the Emperor. Cheng Pu said, “This seal has a history. In olden days Bian He saw a phoenix sitting on a certain stone at the foot of the Jing Mountains. He offered the stone at court. The king of Chu split open the stone and found a piece of jade. In the twenty-sixth year of Qin Dynasty (BC 221), a jade cutter made a seal from it, and Li Si, the First Emperor's Prime Minister, engraved the characters. Two years later, while the First Emperor was sailing in the Dongting Lake, a terrific storm arrived. The Emperor threw the seal to the water as a propitiatory offering, and the storm immediately ceased. Ten years later again, when the First Emperor was making a progress and had reached Huaying, an old man by the road side handed a seal to one of the attendants saying, 'This is now restored to the ancestral dragon,' and had then disappeared. Thus the jewel returned to Qin. She chipped the corner, which later was repaired with gold. After the first emperor died the seal was taken by the founder of the Han dynasty. The emperor who restored the Han after the rebellion found the seal, and ever since that time it has passed from emperor to emperor. Two hundred years later, during the Wang Mang rebellion, the queen mother of the overthrown emperor used the seal to hit two of the rebels over the head. “I heard this treasured seal had been lost during the trouble in the Palace when the Ten Regular Attendants hurried off the Emperor. It was missed on His Majesty's return. Now my lord has it and certainly will come to the imperial dignity. But you must not remain here in the north. Quickly go home—Changsha, south of the Great River ((Yangtze River))—where you can lay plans for the accomplishment of the great design.” “Your words exactly accord with my thoughts,” said Sun Jian.","“The next year the First Emperor died. Later Zi Ying, the grandson of the First Emperor, presented the seal to Liu Bang the Supreme Ancestor, the founder of the Han Dynasty. Two hundred years later, in Wang Mang's rebellion, the Emperor's mother, Lady Yuan, struck two of the rebels, Wang Xun and Su Xian, with the seal and broke off a corner, which was repaired with gold. Liu Xiu the Latter Han Founder got possession of it at Yiyang, and it has been regularly bequeathed hereafter.",1,0.592195,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 20 Do not think the worse of me on that account, even though I bring you another book instead (for I certainly mean to bring one). The novel in question was one of Paul de Kock’s, and not a novel for you to read. There I came across a novel which I hardly know how to describe to you. This is a long epistle that I am sending you, but the reason is that today I feel in good spirits after dining at Rataziaev’s.","If I’ve scribbled you a lot it’s because I’m in such a happy frame of mind today. We all ate dinner together in Ratazyayev is room and they started passing round a Romany wine* such as you’ve never tasted in your life (they’re such frolicsome fellows, little mother!) … But why should I write to you about that? Now don’t go getting the wrong idea about me, Varenka. I just tell you all these things for fun. I shall send you the books, I promise I shall… There’s a novel by Paul de Kock * going the rounds among us here, but I shall not send you Paul de Kock, little mother…",1,0.5925487,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 “But do picture to yourself, Anna Grigorievna, the situation I was in when I heard that. ‘ And now,’ apparently said Korobotchka to the Archpriest’s wife, ‘I am altogether at a loss what to do, for, throwing me fifteen roubles, the man forced me to sign a worthless paper—yes, me, an inexperienced, defenceless widow who knows nothing of business.’ So that’s the kind of things that go on around us! But if you could only picture to yourself, if even just a little, how thoroughly upset I was!”","But he only replied that I had been the betrayer in the case, by indulging in various amours. “You have kept them very dark though, Mr. Lovelace!” said he—and now I am known everywhere by this name of “Lovelace.” They know EVERYTHING about us, my darling, EVERYTHING—both about you and your affairs and about myself; and when today I was for sending Phaldoni to the bakeshop for something or other, he refused to go, saying that it was not his business. “But you MUST go,” said I. “I will not,” he replied.",0,0.51616865,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 As he said this, Alyosha felt that he had turned very red and was furious with himself for having yielded to Dmitry’s insistent demand that he say what he thought of Katerina, and for being forced to give such stupid answers. Besides, he felt it was quite ridiculous that he should offer his opinion about a woman, as though he were an expert in such matters. It was, therefore, with all the greater amazement that he sensed now at first sight of the approaching Katerina Ivanovna that he might on that earlier occasion have been thoroughly mistaken. This time her features radiated an unfeigned, straightforward goodness of disposition, a direct and ardent sincerity. Her arrogant, haughty, domineering airs had vanished; but he saw that her drive, her generosity, and her impressive self-reliance were still there. From the very first words she said, Alyosha realized that her tragic predicament with the man she loved was no mystery to her, that possibly she already knew everything, absolutely everything. Yet, despite all that, there was so much light in her face, so much faith in the future, that Alyosha felt guilty before her; he felt he had done her serious and deliberate harm. She had won him over and captured him in one fell swoop. And with all that, he also realized that she was terribly tense and that her tension had perhaps reached the extreme limits of endurance, causing her to act as though she were in a trance.","Now, when he saw her coming toward him, he immediately realized that he might have been wrong about her before. This time, she radiated great warmth and kindness, and complete, uncompromising sincerity.",1,0.59296125,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 This was that same visit by Mitya of which Grushenka had given an account with such terror to Rakitin. At the time she had been expecting her estafette, and was thoroughly relieved that Mitya neither the day before nor that day had been to see her, hoping that God might grant he did not arrive until she had left, but then suddenly he had descended on her. The rest is known to us: in order to get him off her hands she had instantly persuaded him to take her to the house of Kuzma Samsonov, where she said she must with dreadful urgency go in order to ‘count money’, and when Mitya had at once done so, in parting from him outside the gates of Kuzma’s house, had taken from him the promise that he would come to fetch her at twelve o’clock midnight, in order to escort her home again. Mitya was also relieved at this arrangement: ‘If she’s sitting over there with Kuzma, that means she won’t be able to go and see Fyodor Pavlovich … that’s as long as she isn’t lying, of course,’ he appended at once. In his estimation, however, she was not lying. He was indeed of that type of jealous man who, in parting from the beloved woman, at once proceeds to imagine God only knows what kinds of horrors concerning what she may be up to and how she may be ‘being unfaithful’ to him, but – upon running back to her again, shaken, crushed, irrevocably persuaded that she really has managed to be unfaithful to him, from his first glance at her features, at the laughing, cheerful and affectionate features of that woman – is at once reborn in spirit, at once loses all suspicion and with joyful shame curses himself for his jealousy. So he had not yet had time to run to his apartment when jealousy was already creeping into his restless heart again. - flashed through his head. After seeing Grushenka off, he rushed to his home. Oh, he still had so much to do today! “But I just need to find out from Smerdyakov as soon as possible whether there was anything there last night, whether she came, what good, to Fyodor Pavlovich, wow!” But at least my heart was relieved. ","At coming into contact with such a man, the ladies felt themselves superbly refined; the men looked on him with respect, some with envy, not a few with incredulity. He, all the while, sailed along, piling adjective upon adjective, adverb upon adverb, running through all of the rhymes for tyrant and usurper. Dessert had come; nobody thought of eating. In between glosses, there came a cheerful murmur, the chatter of satisfied stomachs; languid and moist eyes, or lively and bright ones, sprawled out or darted up and down the table, which was crowded with sweets and fruits:",0,0.515376,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 He beamed today. Yes, the stamp of glory lay on him. Why didn’t I feel amorousness, exhilaration, veneration in the sight of this glory? Malice has seized me. He is a statesman, a communist, he’s building a new world. And glory flames up in his new world because out of the hands of a sausage maker has come a new sort of sausage. I don’t understand this glory; what does it mean? Not of such glory did biographies, monuments, history speak to me … Does it mean that the nature of glory has changed? Everywhere or only here, in the world being built. But I feel that this new world being built is paramount, triumphant… I’m not a blind man, I have a head on my shoulders. I'm literate. I don't need to be taught, explained to me... It’s precisely in this world I want glory! I want to beam, as Babichev beamed today. But a new sort of sausage won’t make me beam.","It’s not necessary to teach me, to explain to me… I’m literate.",1,0.59366816,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 60 “What are you thinking about?” “Recognize me now?” “Surely you remember—twist the seventh red thread on the handle, chant the magic words ‘hui-xu-he-xi-xi-chui-hu,’ and it will grow twelve feet long and extinguish any blaze!” “Put the fan away and have another drink,” she urged. She was so shocked and ashamed by her sudden realization of Monkey’s deception that she stumbled and fell, knocking over tables and chairs as she went. he yelled at Iron-Fan. Monkey decided to seize the moment. “How can such a tiny thing extinguish fire?” “Has that Jade-Face rotted your brain?” replied Iron-Fan, reckless from drink. Carefully committing these instructions to memory, Monkey popped the fan into his mouth, then rubbed his face and revealed his true identity.","“That's the problem,” his mother-in-law said. “If I give you the eldest, the second one will be upset; and if I give you the second one, I'm afraid the third one will be; and if I give you the third, the eldest will be— so I haven't decided yet.” “If there's any danger of them quarrelling,” said Pig, “then give me all of them, to save the family from being troubled with arguments and squabbles.” “What a suggestion,” his mother-in-law exclaimed. “You're certainly not having all my daughters to yourself.” “Don't be silly, mother. What's unusual about three or four wives? Even if there were several more of them, I'd take them on with a smile.",1,0.59384483,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 and we’re ruined.”",Then she nodded: she appeared satisfied.,0,0.5150102,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 I met my cousin Sasha. To see her going to wrack and ruin shocked me terribly. Moreover, it has reached me, through a side wind, that she has been making inquiry for me, and dogging my footsteps, under the pretext that she wishes to pardon me, to forget the past, and to renew our acquaintance. Well, among other things she told me that, whereas you are not a kinsman of mine, that she is my nearest relative; that you have no right whatever to enter into family relations with us; and that it is wrong and shameful for me to be living upon your earnings and charity. Also, she said that I must have forgotten all that she did for me, though thereby she saved both myself and my mother from starvation, and gave us food and drink; that for two and a half years we caused her great loss; and, above all things, that she excused us what we owed her. Even my poor mother she did not spare. Would that she, my dead parent, could know how I am being treated! But God knows all about it.... Also, Anna declared that it was solely through my own fault that my fortunes declined after she had bettered them; that she is in no way responsible for what then happened; and that I have but myself to blame for having been either unable or unwilling to defend my honour. Great God! WHO, then, has been at fault? According to Anna, Hospodin [Mr.] Bwikov was only right when he declined to marry a woman who—But need I say it? It is cruel to hear such lies as hers. What is to become of me I do not know. I tremble and sob and weep. Indeed, even to write this letter has cost me two hours. At least it might have been thought that Anna would have confessed HER share in the past. Yet see what she says!... For the love of God do not be anxious about me, my friend, my only benefactor. Thedora is over apt to exaggerate matters. I am not REALLY ill. I have merely caught a little cold. I caught it last night while I was walking to Bolkovo, to hear Mass sung for my mother. Ah, mother, my poor mother! Could you but rise from the grave and learn what is being done to your daughter!","I thought all that out while waiting for Vasin in his room. Indeed, what I had to do seemed clear to me now and I realized I'd really come to Vasin's not for advice but to show him what a noble and disinterested man I was and thus get even with him for my previous day's humiliation.",0,0.51488817,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 He took up the ikon, carried it to the light and looked at it intently, but, after holding it a few seconds only, laid it on the table before him. I was astonished, but all his strange speech was uttered so quickly that I had not time to reflect upon it. All I remember is that a sick feeling of dread began to clutch at my heart. Mom's fright turned into bewilderment and compassion; above all, she saw in him only an unfortunate man; it happened that even before he sometimes spoke almost as strangely as now. Lisa suddenly became very pale for some reason and strangely nodded her head at him. But most frightened of all was Tatyana Pavlovna.","Mother's alarm had passed into perplexity and compassion; she looked on him as some one, above all, to be pitied; it had sometimes happened in the past that he had talked almost as strangely as now. Liza, for some reason, became suddenly very pale, and strangely made a sign to me with a motion of her head towards him.",1,0.59502196,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 “You don’t say! Well, will you believe me, Mr. Miusov, if I tell you I was aware of that too and, what’s more, as soon as I started to speak, I knew, I somehow felt, that you’d be the first to make some remark? Whenever I realize, Your Reverence, that my joke isn’t succeeding, my cheeks begin to stick to my lower gums, like a sort of cramp. It’s happened ever since my youth when I used to be a hanger-on to the local landed gentry, earning my living by being a parasite. I’m a thorough-going buffoon, a born buffoon, which is like being one of God’s fools, Your Reverence. I won’t deny, though, that there may be an unholy spirit in me, too, but it must be one of minor rank—if it were more important it would surely have chosen better quarters—but certainly not you, Mr. Miusov. You’d offer it pretty shabby quarters, let me tell you. I, at least, believe in God. And if I’ve had some doubts of late, they’re gone now as I sit here, expecting to hear words of great wisdom. I, Reverend Father, am like the philosopher Diderot. You may have heard, Holy Father, how Diderot went to see the Metropolitan Platon, in the time of the Empress Catherine. Without further ado, Diderot fell down at his feet: “I believe,” he cried, “and will accept baptism.” He went in and told him straight: “There is no God.” Upon which the great hierarch raised his finger and replied: “The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God. ” 8 I want to be baptized!’ And so he was baptized then and there, and Princess Dashkov acted as his godmother and Potemkin as his godfather.”","He marched in and immediately announced: ‘There is no God!’ The holy patriarch raised his finger and replied: ‘The fool has said in his heart, There is no God!’ And the next thing, Diderot was lying at his feet and wailing: ‘I believe.",1,0.59502196,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 Prosper alighted, stretched his cramped limbs, and gave Zephyr a friendly pat upon the neck. he felt the degradation of the ignominious, heartbreaking service they were subjected to almost as keenly as his master; and not only that, but he had to carry a small arsenal of stores and implements of various kinds: the holsters stuffed with his master's linen and underclothing and the greatcoat rolled above, the stable suit, blouse, and overalls, and the sack containing brushes, currycomb, and other articles of equine toilet behind the saddle, the haversack with rations slung at his side, to say nothing of such trifles as side-lines and picket-pins, the watering bucket and the wooden basin. Poor Zephyr!","He stopped and felt provoked with himself; he could not remember any more, and wished he had said and and let his voice fall, it sounded so abrupt and unfinished. """,0,0.5138514,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 What if, at least, her husband had been one of those ardent and taciturn men who work at night over their books, and at last, at sixty, when rheumatism sets in, wear a row of decorations on their black, ill-made coats? Emma would look at him and shrug her shoulders. She would have liked the name Bovary, which was hers, to be famous, she would have liked to see it displayed in book-stores, repeated in newspapers, known to all of France. But Charles had no ambition! He would read a little of it after dinner, but the warmth of the room, in combination with his digestion, would put him to sleep after five minutes; and he would stay there, his chin on his hands and his hair spread out like a mane as far as the base of the lamp. Finally, in order to keep up to date, he took out a subscription to La Ruche Médicale, a new journal whose prospectus he had received.","Finally, to keep up to date, he took out a subscription to the Medical Hive, a new journal whose prospectus he had received. He was reading some a little after his dinner; but the heat of the apartment, added to the digestion, caused him to fall asleep after five minutes; and he remained there, his chin on his two hands, and his hair spreading like a mane to the foot of the lamp. Emma looked at him with a shrug. Why did she not have, at least, for husband one of those men of taciturn ardor who work at night in books, and finally wear, at sixty years of age, when the age of rheumatism comes, a skewer of crosses, on their badly made black coat. She would have liked the name of Bovary, which was hers, to be illustrious, to see it displayed in booksellers, repeated in the newspapers, known throughout France. But Charles had no ambition!",1,0.59572774,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 Whatever the confusion, after the first glance one could distinguish in this multitude three main groups, which crowded around three characters whom the reader already knows. One of these characters, strangely dressed in many oriental tinsel, was Mathias Hungadi Spicali, Duke of Egypt and Bohemia. The rascal was sitting on a table with his legs crossed, his finger raised, and loudly distributing his science in black and white magic to many gaping faces around him. Another mob thickened around our old friend, the valiant King of Thunes, armed to the teeth. Clopin Trouillefou, with a very serious air and in a low voice, was regulating the distribution of an enormous cask of arms, which stood wide open in front of him and from whence poured out in profusion, axes, swords, bassinets, coats of mail, broadswords, lance–heads, arrows, and viretons,[54] like apples and grapes from a horn of plenty. Each took from the heap, who the morion, who the thrust, who the mercy with a cross handle. The children themselves were arming themselves, and there were even leggings which, armored and armored, slipped between the legs of the drinkers like big beetles.","Clopin Trouillefou, with a very serious air and in a low voice, regulated the looting of an enormous barrel full of weapons, largely smashed in front of him, from which axes, swords, basins, coats of mail, platers were disgorged in crowds. , spearheads and archegayes, sagettes and viretons, like apples and grapes from a cornucopia.",1,0.59572774,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 “You’ve picked the wrong monkey to monkey with today, fiend!” He now mulled his options: To smash or not to smash, he pondered. Our hero laughed mirthlessly.","It was a single tree across the river. From afar it was like a beam across the sky, Near by, it seemed a rotten broken tree trunk. It was narrow and slippery and dizzy to cross, By this the gods trod over the brilliant clouds.",1,0.59608054,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 In any case civilisation has made mankind if not more bloodthirsty, at least more vilely, more loathsomely bloodthirsty. They say that Cleopatra (excuse an instance from Roman history) was fond of sticking gold pins into her slave-girls’ breasts and derived gratification from their screams and writhings. In old days he saw justice in bloodshed and with his conscience at peace exterminated those he thought proper. Now we do think bloodshed abominable and yet we engage in this abomination, and with more energy than ever. Which is worse? Decide that for yourselves.","You’re making such a fuss, and really behaving like ignoramuses. When he was eighty-five Monsieur le Duc d’Angoulême, the bastard son of His Majesty Charles IX, married a silly goose aged fifteen. Monsieur Virginal, Marquis d’Alluye, brother of Cardinal de Sourdis, archbishop of Bordeaux, at the age of eighty-three had a son by one of Madame la Présidente Jacquin’s chambermaids, a real love-child who became a Knight of Malta and a counsellor of state representing the old aristocracy. One of the great men of this century, Abbé Tabaraud, is the son of a man of eighty-seven.",0,0.5124486,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 “I'm angry, I see it,” he thought to himself, ashamed after a minute of his annoying gesture with his hand to Dunya. “But why do they themselves love me so much if I’m not worth it!” Oh, if I were alone and no one loved me, and I myself would never love anyone! But try to get me off and they’d be wild with righteous indignation. Yes, that’s it, Oh, how I hate them all!” that’s it , that’s what they are sending me there for, that’s what they want. None of this would have happened. But, I wonder, shall I in those fifteen or twenty years grow so meek that I shall humble myself before people and whimper at every word that I am a criminal. Look at them running to and fro about the streets, every one of them a scoundrel and a criminal at heart and, worse still, an idiot. ","He had rushed off to see Porfiry. . . . But for what reason did Porfiry try to dupe him like that? Why was he trying to divert Razumikhin’s eyes to Mikolka? He must have had something in mind; there must have been some intention, but what? True, since that morning a great deal of time had elapsed, too much, much too much, and there had been no news at all about Porfiry. And, of course, that made things worse . . .” Raskolnikov took his cap; still deep in thought, he left his room.",0,0.51208264,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 Very early in the morning the hubbub begins, people moving about, walking, knocking—everyone who has to is getting up, some to go to the office, others about their own business; they all begin drinking tea. The samovars for the most part belong to the landlady; there are few of them, so we all use them in turn, and if anyone goes with his teapot out of his turn, he catches it. I, for instance, the first time made that mistake, and .. but why describe it? I made the acquaintance of everyone at once. The naval man was the first I got to know; he is such an open fellow, told me everything: about his father and mother, about his sister married to an assessor in Tula, and about the town of Kronstadt. He promised to protect me and at once invited me to tea with him. I found him in the room where they usually play cards. There they gave me tea and were very insistent that I should play a game of chance with them. Whether they were laughing at me or not I don’t know, but they were losing the whole night and they were still playing when I went away. Chalk, cards—and the room so full of smoke that it made my eyes smart. I did not play and they at once observed that I was talking of philosophy. After that no one said another word to me the whole time; but to tell the truth I was glad of it. I am not going to see them now; it’s gambling with them, pure gambling. The clerk in the literary department has little gatherings in the evening, too. Well, there it is nice, quiet, harmless and delicate; everything is on a refined footing.","I shall not go and see them now; all they do is gamble, nothing but gamble!",1,0.5970206,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 “Yes, what was the last thing I thought so well? She tried to remember. - Tyutkin, coiffeur? No, not that. Yes, about what Yashvin says: the struggle for existence and hatred are the one thing that binds people. No, you are driving in vain, ”she mentally turned to the group of fours in a carriage, which was obviously driving out of town to have fun. “And the dog you are carrying with you will not help you. You will not leave yourself. "" Throwing a glance in the direction Pyotr was turning, she saw a half-deadly drunken factory with a shaking head, who was being carried somewhere by a policeman. This one is more likely, she thought. "" Count Vronsky and I did not find this pleasure either, although we expected a lot from him."" And Anna turned now for the first time that bright light in which she saw everything on her relationship with him, which she had previously avoided thinking about. “What was he looking for in me? Love is not so much as the satisfaction of vanity. "" She recalled his words, the expression on his face, reminiscent of a submissive frog dog, at the beginning of their relationship. And everything now confirmed it. “Yes, there was a triumph of vain success in him. Of course, there was love, but the biggest share was the pride of success. He bragged about me. Now it's over. “Yes, he no longer has the same taste for me. He took all he could from me, and now he doesn’t need me. He let the truth slip yesterday—he wants a divorce and marriage, in order to burn his boats. He’s weighed down by me and is trying not to be dishonorable with regard to me. There’s nothing to be proud of; he’s ashamed, not proud. The zest is gone.47 That fellow wants to amaze everyone and is very pleased with himself,” she thought, looking at a rosy-cheeked shop assistant on a riding-school horse. He loves me—but how? If I leave him, he will be glad at heart. ""","There is nothing to be proud of. Not to be proud, but ashamed. He took everything he could from me, and now he doesn't need me. He is burdened by me and tries not to be dishonorable towards me. He let it slip yesterday - he wants a divorce and marriage in order to burn his ships. He loves me - but how? The zest is gone. [310] This one wants to surprise everyone and is very pleased with himself, she thought, looking at the ruddy clerk riding a riding horse. - Yes, that taste is no longer for him in me.",1,0.59796005,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 Why did you Catholicize? Probably because he was attracted to Catholicism by its alien beauty. And he was attracted by the relentless rigor of beliefs and moral commandments. I think there was something about it that longed for asceticism, as other people long for pleasures. So all the reasons others tend to convert and become a zealous Catholic. And besides, something I hadn’t seen so clearly at the time. When I think back now, even as a younger pupil he was always playing at being something. Ervin, like everyone else in the Ulpius house except me, was a role-player by nature. He played the intellectual and the revolutionary. It was not as direct and natural as it should be, it was far from it. Every word and move was stylized. He used old words, was aloof, constantly looking for great role opportunities. But he did not play like the Ulpians, who for the next moment forgot their role and began another game: he wanted to play a role all his life, and he finally found a big, worthy, and difficult role in Catholicism. He didn’t even change his attitude after that, and the role deepened inward.","Ervin, like everyone else in the House of Ulpius, was a role-playing nature. If I think back now, he’s been playing something all the time since he was a little student.",1,0.59801877,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 One by one, the inhabitants of the village swore their allegiance to Pugachov, kissing the crucifix and bowing down before him. The garrison soldiers stood nearby; armed with a pair of blunt scissors, the company tailor was cutting off their plaits. Shaking themselves, they too went up to kiss Pugachov’s hand and receive his pardon. One by one, he accepted them into his band. All this took about three hours. Then Pugachov stood up and came down from the porch, followed by the Cossack elders. Two Cossacks took him by the arms and put him on the saddle. A white horse, adorned with a rich harness, was brought to him. He told Father Gerasim that he would be dining in his house. Just then a woman screamed. The brigands had dragged Vasilisa Yegorovna out onto the porch—wild-haired and naked. One of them had already put on her quilted jerkin. Others were dragging out feather beds, chests, crockery, and all kinds of other household belongings. “Kind sirs,” the poor old woman was shouting, “allow my soul to repent in peace. Good sirs, take me to Ivan Kuzmich.” Then she looked up at the gallows and caught sight of her husband. “Murderers!” she screamed frenziedly. “What have you done to him? Ivan Kuzmich, light of my life, soldier brave and true! Neither Prussian bayonets nor Turkish bullets could harm you—and now, instead of laying down your life in honorable battle, you have been hanged by a runaway convict!” “Silence the old witch!” said Pugachov. A young Cossack struck her on the head with his sword. She fell down dead on the porch steps. Pugachov rode off; the crowd surged after him.","What does he mean by 'I'm stepping aside, I'm punishing myself?' It'll come to nothing! He's shouted such phrases a thousand times, drunk, in the taverns. But now he's not drunk. ' Drunk in spirit'--they're fond of fine phrases, the villains. Am I his nurse? He must have been fighting, his face was all over blood. With whom? I shall find out at the 'Metropolis.' And his handkerchief was soaked in blood....",0,0.5102525,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 As Linda lay there in the dim lighting, I had seldom seen her so beautiful. With her naked, gold-shimmering arm she had drawn the coverlet up to her chin, as if she were trying to protect herself from the chill, although the room was very warm. She had twisted her head to one side, so that her regular profile was clearly visible against the shadows on the pillow; her skin glowed like smooth, living velvet against her heavy black eyebrows and eyelashes. The taut red bow of her mouth had relaxed in sleep to the soft and very tired lips of a girl. I had never seen her look so young when awake, not even when we were first becoming acquainted with each other, and never so emotionally affecting. Though I was usually so afraid of her because of her strength, I was almost seized by compassion for her helpless, childlike weakness. The Linda who now lay there before me I would have liked to approach in a different way, tenderly and carefully as if it were the first time we had met. But I knew that if I woke her, the red bow would tauten and the eyes turn into spotlights again. And if I still wanted to approach, if I came with love to cover my disbelief, what good would it do? A moment's illusion of belonging, a intoxication that was over tomorrow - and I would not even know where I had her in the case of Rissen. She would sit up straight and wide awake in bed and with wrinkled eyebrows discover the tablecloth and pillow on the wall. ",My God ! what new misfortune was she threatened with?,0,0.5091085,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 »I wrote out a policy for my youngest daughter for 150 Kuranttaler. Lead her, oh Lord! on your way, and give her a pure heart, so that one day she may enter the dwellings of eternal peace. For we know well how difficult it is to believe with all my soul that the whole, dear, sweet Jesus is mine, because our earthly little weak heart...' After three pages the Consul wrote an 'Amen', but the pen went on, she glided over many a page with a gentle noise, she wrote of the delicious spring that refreshes the weary wanderer, of the holy, blood- dripping wounds, of the narrow and the wide path and of God's great glory. It cannot be denied that after this or that sentence the consul felt the inclination to put down his pen, to go in to his wife, or to go to the office. But how! Was it not robbing his God to scant Him of this service? Did one so soon weary of communion with his Lord and Saviour? No, no, as punishment for his impious lusts, he quoted longer passages from the scriptures, prayed for his parents, his wife, his children, and himself , also prayed for his brother Gotthold, - and finally, after one last verse from the Bible and one last threefold Amen, he sprinkled gold sand on the writing and leaned back with a sigh of relief.","Did he soon tire of conferring with his Creator and Sustainer? What a robbery of Him, the Lord, to stop in writing even now...",1,0.6001883,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 “Oh, do you really imagine I don’t realize how I’ve discredited myself with this ‘Explanation’ of mine! Everyone will look upon me as a silly youngster who knows nothing of life, and will forget that I’m not even eighteen, and that six months for me are easily the equal of many long years into ripe, grey-haired old age! But let people laugh and say that it’s all childish fairytales. They may say it is all fairy-tales, if they like; and I have spent whole nights telling myself fairy-tales. I filled my long nights with fairytales; I remember every one of them.","On the first occasion, that was what happened to myself. Well, is there anything else to tell you? Already I have made the acquaintance of the company here. The naval officer took the initiative in calling upon me, and his frankness was such that he told me all about his father, his mother, his sister (who is married to a lawyer of Tula), and the town of Kronstadt. Also, he promised me his patronage, and asked me to come and take tea with him. I kept the appointment in a room where card-playing is continually in progress; and, after tea had been drunk, efforts were made to induce me to gamble. Whether or not my refusal seemed to the company ridiculous I cannot say, but at all events my companions played the whole evening, and were playing when I left.",0,0.50866616,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 This morning I talked with Yemelyan Ivanovich and Aksenty Mikhailovich about his Excellency. Yes, Varenka, they were not the only ones who treated me so mercifully. They did not benefit me alone and are known throughout the world for the kindness of their hearts. From many places in honor of him praises are exalted and tears of gratitude flow. They brought up an orphan alone. They deigned to attach her: they gave her away as a well-known person, for an official who, on special assignments, was with their excellency. The son of a widow was placed in some kind of office and many other good deeds were rendered. I, mother, considered it an obligation to immediately put my mite in, and told everyone about His Excellency's act for all to hear; I told them everything and kept nothing back. I put my shame in my pocket. What a shame, what an ambition such under such a circumstance! So out loud - may the deeds of His Excellency be glorious! I spoke enthrallingly, spoke with ardor and did not blush, on the contrary, I was proud that I had to tell such a story. I told about everything (I only prudently kept silent about you, mother), and about my mistress, and about Faldoni, and about Ratazyaev, and about boots, and about Markov - I told everything. Some of them laughed, yes, indeed, and they all laughed. Only this is in my figure, it’s true, they found something funny either about my boots - specifically about boots. And with some bad intention, they could not do this. Is it so, youth, or because they are rich people, but with a bad, evil intention, they could not make fun of my speech. I mean, something about His Excellency —they couldn't possibly do that. Isn't that right, Varenka? ","And since I'm not much of a torturer, as you can probably gather, I usually preferred to keep quiet. So the reason for my forbearance was not just that it was easier to say nothing, and, I must say, I'm not sorry I didn't interfere. Broadmindedness and tolerance was the easiest way under the circumstances, so I don't claim any credit. I'll say parenthetically, though, that she never trusted my tolerance and lived in fear and trembling. But, in fear and trembling as she was, she still firmly rejected whatever civilizing influence she happened to be exposed to. Humble people know how to reject things and, in general, they're better than we are at getting whatever they're after.",0,0.5083,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 “I can’t offer you coffee here; but why not spend five minutes with a friend,” Porfiry pattered on, “and you know all these official duties . . . please don’t mind my running up and down, forgive me, my dear fellow , I am very much afraid of offending you, but exercise is absolutely indispensable for me. I’m always sitting and so glad to be moving about for five minutes . . . I suffer from my sedentary life . . . I always intend to join a gymnasium; they say that officials of all ranks, even Privy Councilors may be seen skipping gaily there; there you have it, modern science . . . yes, yes . . . But as for my duties here, inquiries and all such formalities . . . you mentioned inquiries yourself just now . . . I assure you these interrogations are sometimes more embarrassing for the interrogator than for the interrogated ... You made the observation yourself just now very aptly and wittily.” (Raskolnikov had made no observation of the kind.) “People get into a muddle! A real muddle! They keep harping on the same note, like a drum! There will be a reform and we shall be called by a different name, at least, he-he-he! And as for our legal tradition, as you so wittily called it, I thoroughly agree with you. Every prisoner on trial, even the simplest peasant, knows that they begin by disarming him with irrelevant questions (as you so happily put it) and then deal him a knock-down blow, he-he-he!—your beautiful expressions, my boy, he-he! So you really imagined that I meant by government quarters . What an ironic fellow you are! So, come. I won’t go on! Ah, by the way, yes! One word leads to another. You spoke of formality just now, apropos of the inquiry, you know. But what’s the use of formality? In many cases it’s nonsense. Sometimes you have a friendly chat and get a good deal more out of it. You can always fall back on formality, may I assure you. And, after all, what does it amount to? An examining lawyer cannot be bounded by formality at every step. The work of investigation is, so to speak, a free art in its own way, he-he-he!” Porfiry Petrovich paused for breath.",. . he-he! You are truly ironic.,1,0.60147655,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 I wake up. Mild bluish light. The glass walls, the glass armchairs, the table were all glistening. This was reassuring. My heart stopped hammering. Juice? Buddha? What kind of nonsense... ? It was clear: I was sick. I never used to dream. They say in the old days it was the most normal thing in the world to have dreams. Which makes sense: Their whole life was some kind of horrible merry-go-round of green, orange, Buddha, juice. But today we know that dreams point to a serious mental illness. And I know that up to now my brain has checked out chronometrically perfect, a mechanism without a speck of dust to dull its shine ... and now what? Now ... what I feel there in my brain is just like... some kind of foreign body... like having a very thin little eyelash in your eye. You feel generally okay, but that eye with the lash in it —you can't forget it for a second. ","Wasn’t I a hell of a fellow though, eh? Five kroner!",0,0.5073237,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 “Disciple,” said the priest, “when I kowtowed like that, all you could do was to stand snickering by the side of the road, with not even a bow. The old grandson has been a good man since he was a child, and he does not know how to worship people. The walker said, ""You know that someone who hides his head and shows his tail like him should have beaten him. Even when he met the Jade Emperor and Taishang Laojun, I also It's just a sing-along."" "" Just to see the face of the Bodhisattva, I have spared him all the money, and he still dares to be worshipped by my old grandson? Sanzang said, ""Don't be a son of man! What's the point? “Stop this idle talk! Let’s get going without further delay.” So the priest got up and prepared to set off again toward the West.","Why?” “You wouldn’t know, would you?” said Pilgrim. “For playing a game of hide-and-seek like that with us, he really deserves a beating! But for the sake of the Bodhisattva, I’ll spare him, and that’s something already! You think he dares accept a bow from old Monkey? Old Monkey has been a hero since his youth, and he doesn’t know how to bow to people! Even when I saw the Jade Emperor and Laozi, I just gave them my greeting, that’s all!” “Blasphemy!” said Tripitaka.",1,0.6018276,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 The third summer is just the year I decided to leave the burial ground of my parents forever. I advised K to return home at that time, but K did not respond. That's right, what do you do every year when you go home? He clearly planned to spend the summer in Tokyo studying again, so I resignedly set off for home without him. I have already written of the deep turmoil into which my life was thrown by those two months at home. When I met K again in September, I was in the grip of anger, misery, and loneliness. In fact, his life had undergone an upheaval rather like my own. Without my knowledge, he wrote a letter to his foster home, Yokasaki, and confessed his fraud from here. He was prepared for that from the beginning. Since there is no other way to do it now, did you intend to tell the other side that there is no other way than doing what you like? Anyway, it seems that he didn't want to deceive his adoptive parents even when he entered the university. Even if you try to deceive, you may have found that it will not last so long.","He was supposed to stay and study again. I had no choice but to leave Tokyo alone. As I wrote before, I won't repeat how the two months I lived in my hometown were so turbulent for my destiny. I had a complaint, depression, and loneliness in my heart, and in September I met K again. Then his fate was as volatile as I was.",1,0.6021786,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 40 Pigsy snorted. “If we drop these boys to the ground, they’ll become people-patties, and the monster will kill us in revenge, while you’re sitting pretty at a safe distance.” “Are you trying to get us killed?” I don’t want to fight him in the city because it’ll make a terrible mess of the place.”","Live in the cloud head, look carefully, it really is a good mountain. The situation is in the spring season, but see: thousands of valleys compete for flow, and thousands of cliffs compete for show. Birds sing, no one is seen, flowers fall and trees are fragrant. After the rain, the green walls are moistened, and the wind blows the green screen.",1,0.6022955,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 But at the first prince, at the first countess, at the first person he was in fear of, he would regard it as his sacred duty to forget you with the most insulting disdain, like a speck, like a fly, then and there, even before you had time to leave him; he seriously considered it the most lofty and beautiful tone. It was said of Karmazinov that he valued his connections with influential people and with higher society almost more than his soul. Their vanity, precisely towards the end of their career, sometimes takes on proportions worthy of wonder. In spite of his complete self-possession and perfect knowledge of good manners, he was said to be so vain, to the point of such hysterics, that he was simply unable to conceal his authorial petulance, even in those social circles where there was little interest in literature. But the old graybeards do not notice this and get angry. It was said that he would meet you, show you kindness, seduce you, charm you with his ingenuousness, especially if he needed you for some reason, and most certainly if you had been recommended to him beforehand. And if someone chanced to confound him with their indifference, he would be morbidly offended and seek to revenge himself. God knows who they begin to think they are-gods, at the least.","But the gray-haired old men do not notice this and are angry. Their vanity, precisely at the end of their career, sometimes takes on proportions worthy of surprise. God knows what they begin to take themselves for - at least for the gods. It was said about Karmazinov that he values his ties with strong people and with higher society almost more than his soul. They said that he would meet you, caress you, seduce you, charm you with his innocence, especially if he needs you for some reason and, of course, if you were previously recommended to him. But in the presence of the first prince, in the presence of the first countess, in the presence of the first person whom he is afraid of, he will consider it his most sacred duty to forget you with the most insulting disdain, like a chip, like a fly, right there, when you have not yet had time to leave him; he seriously considers it the highest and most beautiful tone. Despite complete restraint and a perfect knowledge of good manners, he is so proud, they say, to such hysteria that he can in no way hide his authorial irritability even in those circles of society where there is little interest in literature. If, by chance, someone puzzled him with his indifference, then he was painfully offended and tried to take revenge.",1,0.6025294,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 The woman was even more delighted when she saw the three of them, and invited them into the hall with a courtesy invitation. Behind the screen, suddenly there was a girl with a bun hanging silk, holding a golden plate, a white jade cup, fragrant tea, and the fragrance of different fruits. The man had colorful sleeves and slender bamboo shoots; he held a jade cup and served tea. I bowed to them one by one. After the tea was over, he ordered the fasting. Sanzang raised his hand and said: ""Old Bodhisattva, Gao surname? What is the name of your land? "" The woman said, ""This place is the land of Xiniu Hezhou. The little woman's maiden name is Jia, her husband's surname is Mo. Unfortunate in her childhood, her father-in-law and aunt died early. Keeping the ancestral business with her husband, they have a wealth of wealth and a thousand hectares of fertile land. The husband and wife have no children, and only three girls were born. I have left the fields and family business, and there is no family or relatives, but my mother and daughter took it. I want to marry others, but it is difficult to give up the family business. Now that you have come here, venerable sir, with your three disciples, I think it should be you. “We have over four thousand acres each of irrigated land, dry land, and orchards on hillsides,” she continued, “as well as over a thousand head of oxen and water buffalo, herds of mules and horses, and more pigs and sheep than you could count. There are sixty or seventy farm buildings and barns. I and my three daughters want to marry while staying at home, and you four gentlemen would suit us nicely. If you and your disciples are prepared to change your minds and live in this house as our husbands, you can enjoy wealth and ease. You'll be even better off than those ancients who 'stored spring behind brocade curtains' and kept girls whose 'hair was heavy with golden pins'. We have more grain in the house than we could eat in eight or nine years, and more than enough silk to clothe us for a decade—to say nothing of more gold and silver than you could spend in a lifetime. I wonder if you would be prepared to consent.” Sanzang sat there pretending to be deaf and dumb, with his eyes shut and his mind kept calm. He made no reply. "" The Sanzang was also just dumbfounded and silent.","As long as the month of May of this year 1832 lasted, there were there, every night, in this poor wild garden, under this brushwood more fragrant and thicker every day, two beings composed of all the chastities and all the innocences. , overflowing with all the bliss of heaven, closer to the archangels than to men, pure, honest, intoxicated, radiant, who shone for each other in the darkness. It seemed to Cosette that Marius had a crown and to Marius that Cosette had a nimbus. They touched each other, they looked at each other, they took each other's hands, they hugged each other; but there was a distance they did not bridge. Not that they respected it; they ignored it.",0,0.5063473,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 K. turned around, the businessman hardly noticed it when he wanted to get up immediately. "" Sit down,"" said K. and pulled a chair up next to him. ""Are you an old client of the lawyer?"" asked K. "" Yes,"" said the merchant, ""a very old client."" ""How many years has he been representing you?"" asked K. ""I don't know how you do it I mean,"" said the merchant, ""in legal business matters - I have a grain business - the lawyer has been representing me since I took over the business, about twenty years, in my own case, to which you are probably alluding, he is representing me well since the beginning, it's been longer than five years. Yes, well over five years,' he then added, pulling out an old wallet, 'I've written it all down here; if you want I can tell you the exact dates. It's hard to keep everything. My trial has probably lasted much longer, it began shortly after my wife's death, and that's been more than five and a half years.' K. moved closer to him. "" So the lawyer also takes on ordinary legal matters?"" he asked. This connection between the courts and jurisprudence seemed extremely reassuring to K. ""Certainly,"" said the merchant, and then whispered to K., ""They even say that he's more competent in these legal matters than in the others. "" But then he seemed to regret what he had said, he laid a hand on K.'s shoulder and said: ""Please, don't betray me."" K. patted his thigh to calm him down and said: ""No, I'm not a traitor."" ""He's vengeful,"" said the merchant. "" He certainly won't do anything about such a loyal client,"" said K. "" Oh yes,"" said the businessman, ""when he's excited he doesn't know any different, by the way I'm not really loyal to him."" ""Why not? ' asked K. ' Shall I entrust it to you?' asked the businessman doubtfully. ""I think you can,"" said K. ""Well,"" said the businessman, ""I'll confide it to you in part, but you must also tell me a secret so that we can hold each other close to the lawyer. "" are very careful,"" said K., ""but I'll tell you a secret that will completely calm you down. So what is your disloyalty to the lawyer?' 'I have,' said the merchant hesitantly, and in a tone as if he were admitting something dishonourable, 'I have other lawyers besides him.' said K., a little disappointed. ""Here, yes,"" said the merchant, who had been breathing heavily since his confession, but gained more confidence as a result of K.'s remark. ""It is not allowed. And least of all is it permissible to take on crooked lawyers in addition to a so-called lawyer. And that's exactly what I did, besides him I have five more crooked lawyers."" ""Five!"" cried K., only the number surprised him, ""five lawyers besides this one?"" The businessman nodded: ""I'm still negotiating with one sixth.' ' But why do you need so many lawyers?' asked K. 'I need them all,' said the merchant. ""Wouldn't you like to explain that to me? "" asked K. ""I'd be happy to,"" said the merchant. ""Above all, I don't want to lose my case, that goes without saying. Consequently, I must not neglect anything that might be of use to me; even if the hope of benefit in a particular case is very small, I must not discard it either. I have therefore used everything I possess on the trial. For example, I withdrew all the money from my business. The offices of my business used to take up almost one floor. Today, a small room in the back building is enough, where I work with an apprentice. Of course, this decline was not only due to the withdrawal of money, but even more so to the withdrawal of my ability to work. If you want to do something for your trial, there’s not much else you can do.” “So you work at the court yourself?” asked K. “That’s exactly what I’d like to know.” “I can only report a little about it.” , said the merchant, ""at first I tried, too, but I soon gave up. It's too exhausting and doesn't bring much success. Even working and negotiating there has proved quite impossible, at least for me. Just sitting there and waiting is a lot of effort. You know the heavy air in the offices yourself."" ""How do you know that I was there?"" asked K. ""I was in the waiting room when you went through."" "" What a coincidence that is!"" exclaimed K ., completely accepted and completely forgetting the former ridiculousness of the merchant. ' So you saw me! They were in the waiting room when I walked through. Yes, I went through there once."" ""It's not such a big coincidence,"" said the merchant, ""I'm there almost every day."" ""I'll probably have to go there more often now,"" said K., ""only I will can hardly be received as honorably as it was then. Everyone got up. They probably thought I was a judge."" ""No,"" said the merchant, ""we greeted the bailiff back then. We knew that you were a defendant. News like that spreads very quickly."" ""So you already knew that,"" said K., ""but then my behavior might have seemed arrogant to you. Didn't they talk about it?"" ""No,"" said the merchant, ""on the contrary. But that's stupidity.' ' What kind of stupidity?' asked K. 'Why are you asking about it?' said the businessman angrily. ' You don't seem to know the people there and you might take it the wrong way. You have to consider that in this process many things come up again and again for which reason is no longer sufficient, one is simply too tired and distracted for many things, and one resorts to superstition as a substitute. I'm talking about the others, but I'm no better myself. It is such a superstition, for example, that many want to see the outcome of the trial from the face of the accused, especially from the markings on his lips. So these people have said that, judging from your lips, you will certainly and soon be convicted. I repeat, it's a ridiculous superstition and in most cases completely disproved by the facts, but living in that society it's hard to resist such opinions. Just think how powerful this superstition can be. You approached one there, didn't you? But he could hardly answer you. There are of course many reasons to be confused there, but one of them was also the sight of your lips. He said later that he thought he saw the sign of his own condemnation on your lips.' ' My lips?' asked K., pulling out a pocket mirror and looking at himself. “I can't see anything special about my lips. And you?' ' Me neither,' said the merchant, 'not at all.' 'How superstitious these people are!' exclaimed K.. ""Didn't I say so?"" asked the merchant. ' Do they talk to each other so much and exchange opinions?' said K. 'I've kept quite aloof up to now.' many. There are also few common interests. When belief in a common interest sometimes arises in a group, it soon proves to be a mistake. Nothing can be enforced jointly against the court. Each case is examined individually, it is the most careful court. So you can't achieve anything together, only an individual sometimes achieves something in secret; only when it has been achieved do the others find out about it; nobody knows how it happened. So there is nothing in common, we meet here and there in the waiting room, but there is little discussion. Superstitious opinions have existed for a long time and literally multiply by themselves.' ' I saw the gentlemen there in the waiting room,' said K., 'their waiting seemed so useless to me.' ' Waiting is not useless,' he said Kaufmann, “Only independent intervention is useless. I already said that besides this one I have five lawyers. One should think—I believed it myself at first—that now I could leave the matter entirely to them. But you would be wrong. I suppose you don't understand that?"" I have to watch it more carefully than if I had only one lawyer. ""No,"" said K. and put his hand on the businessman's hand to stop him from speaking too quickly, ""I would just like to ask you to speak a little more slowly, it is but nothing but very important things for me, and I can't really follow you."" ""It's good that you remind me,"" said the merchant, ""you're a newcomer, a young man. Your trial is six months old, isn't it? Yes, I've heard of it. Such a young process! But I've thought these things through countless times, they're the most natural thing in the world for me."" ""You're probably glad your case is so far advanced?"" asked K., not wanting to ask the question directly, like the merchant's affairs stand. But he didn't get a clear answer either. "" Yes, I pushed my case forward for five years,"" said the merchant, bowing his head, ""it's no small achievement. "" Then he was silent for a while. K. listened to see if Leni wasn't coming. On the one hand he didn't want her to come, because he still had a lot to ask and he didn't want Leni to meet him in this confidential conversation with the merchant , on the other hand he was annoyed that she stayed with the lawyer for so long despite his presence. much longer than it took to serve the soup. ' I remember the time clearly,' the businessman began again, and K. was immediately full of attention, 'when my case was about as old as yours is now. I only had this lawyer at the time, but I wasn't very happy with him.' I can find out everything here, thought K. and nodded his head vigorously, as if by doing so he could encourage the businessman to tell him everything he needed to know. "" My lawsuit,"" the merchant continued, ""didn't go forward, there were investigations, I went to everyone, collected material, filed all my business books in court, which, as I found out later, wasn't even necessary, I kept running to the lawyer, he also brought in various petitions -' 'Different petitions?' asked K. ' Yes, of course,' said the businessman. ' That's very important to me,' said K., 'in my case he's still working on the first entry. He hasn't done anything yet. I see now that he's neglecting me shamefully.' 'There can be various legitimate reasons why the submission isn't ready yet,' said the merchant. ' By the way, my submissions later turned out to be quite worthless. I even read one myself through the courtesy of a court official. Although it was learned, it was actually meaningless. Above all, a great deal of Latin, which I do not understand, then pages and pages of general appeals to the court, then flattery for specific individual officials who were not named, but which an insider had to guess at least, then the lawyer's self-praise, which he referred to as downright canine sages humiliated before the court, and finally investigations of old-time legal cases, which should be like mine. As far as I could follow, however, these investigations were carried out very carefully. I don't want to pass any judgment on the lawyer's work with all of this either, and the petition I read was only one of several, but in any case, and I want to talk about that now, I couldn't see any progress in my trial at the time. ""What kind of progress do you want to see?"" asked K. "" You're asking a very sensible question,"" said the merchant, smiling, ""one can only rarely see progress in this process. But I didn't know that then. I'm a businessman and I was even more so then than I am today. I wanted tangible progress, the whole thing should come to an end or at least take a real ascent. Instead, there were only interrogations, most of which had the same content; I had the answers ready like a litany; several times a week court messengers came to my shop, my home, or wherever else they might find me; That was of course disturbing (today it is much better in this respect at least, the telephone call is much less disturbing), rumors of my trial also began to spread among my business friends, but especially among my relatives, so there was damage from everyone Pages, but not the slightest sign indicated that even the first trial would be held any time soon. So I went to the lawyer and complained. Although he gave me long explanations, he decidedly refused to do anything in my interest, nobody has any influence on the determination of the hearing, to insist on it in a petition - as I demanded - was simply outrageous and would both me and him spoil. I thought: what this lawyer doesn't want or can't do, someone else will want and be able to do. So I looked around for other lawyers. I want to get straight to the point: no one has demanded or enforced the setting of the main hearing, it is really impossible, albeit with a reservation that I will speak about later, so this lawyer did not deceive me on this point; but otherwise I had no regrets about turning to other lawyers. You must have heard from Dr. Huld have also heard a lot about the petty lawyers, he probably portrayed them as very contemptible, and they really are. However, when he talks about them and compares himself and his colleagues to them, he always makes a small mistake, which I would also like to draw your attention to in passing. He then always called the lawyers in his circle the 'great lawyers' to distinguish them. That's wrong, of course everyone can call themselves 'great' if they like, but in this case only court usage decides. According to this, in addition to the petty lawyers, there are small and large lawyers. This lawyer and his colleagues, however, are only the small lawyers, but the great lawyers, of whom I have only heard and never seen, rank incomparably higher than the small lawyers than these are above the despised crooks."" ""The great lawyers ?"" asked K. ""Who are they? How do you get to them?' ' So you've never heard of them,' said the merchant. ' There is hardly a defendant who, after hearing about them, would not dream of them for a while. Don't be tempted to do so. I don't know who the great lawyers are, and I don't think you can get to them. I don't know of any case where it can be said with certainty that they intervened. Some they defend, but you can't do it by your own will, they only defend the one they want to defend. But the matter they take on must have gotten beyond the low court. Besides, it's better not to think about them, because otherwise the discussions with the other lawyers, their advice and help seem so disgusting and useless, I've experienced it myself that one prefers to throw everything away, oneself at home go to bed and didn't want to hear from me anymore. But of course that would be the stupidest thing, and you wouldn’t have a long rest in bed either.” “So you weren’t thinking about the great lawyers then?” asked K. “Not for long,” said the businessman and smiled again, “you can forget completely unfortunately she doesn't, especially the night is favorable to such thoughts. But back then I wanted immediate success, so I went to the shysters. «","But that would be completely wrong. I can leave them to them less than if I only had one. You don't understand that?""",1,0.6029971,1
+"lexical = 100, order = 100 K. stood still and looked down at the floor. In theory he was still free, he could have carried on walking, through one of three dark little wooden doors not far in front of him and away from there. It would simply mean he had not understood, or that he had understood but chose not to pay attention to it. But if he once turned round he would be trapped, then he would have acknowledged that he had understood perfectly well, that he really was the Josef K. the priest had called to and that he was willing to follow. If the priest had called out again K. would certainly have carried on out the door, but everything was silent as K. also waited, he turned his head slightly as he wanted to see what the priest was doing now. He was merely standing in the pulpit as before, but it was obvious that he had seen K. turn his head. If K. did not now turn round completely it would have been like a child playing hide and seek. He did so, and the priest beckoned him with his finger. As everything could now be done openly he ran - because of curiosity and the wish to get it over with - with long flying leaps towards the pulpit. At the front pews he stopped, but to the priest he still seemed too far away, he reached out his hand and pointed sharply down with his finger to a place immediately in front of the pulpit. And K. did as he was told, standing in that place he had to bend his head a long way back just to see the priest. ""You are Josef K.,"" said the priest, and raised his hand from the balustrade to make a gesture whose meaning was unclear. "" Yes,"" said K., he considered how freely he had always given his name in the past, for some time now it had been a burden to him, now there were people who knew his name whom he had never seen before , it had been so nice first to introduce yourself and only then for people to know who you were. ""You have been accused,"" said the priest, especially gently. "" Yes,"" said K., ""so I have been informed."" ""Then you are the one I am looking for,"" said the priest. ""I am the prison chaplain."" ""I see,"" said K. ""I had you summoned here,"" said the priest, ""because I wanted to speak to you."" ""I knew nothing of that,"" said K. ""I came here to show the cathedral to a gentleman from Italy."" ""That is beside the point,"" said the priest. ""What are you holding in your hand? Is it a prayer book?"" ""No,"" answered K., ""it's an album of the city's tourist sights."" ""Put it down,"" said the priest. K. threw it away with such force that it flapped open and rolled across the floor, tearing its pages. "" Do you know your case is going badly? "" asked the priest. ""That's how it seems to me too,"" said K. ""I've expended a lot of effort on it, but so far with no result. Although I do still have some documents to submit."" ""How do you imagine it will end?"" asked the priest. "" At first I thought it was bound to end well,"" said K., "" but now I have my doubts about it. I don't know how it will end. Do you know?"" ""I don't,"" said the priest, ""but I fear it will end badly. You are considered guilty. Your case will probably not even go beyond a minor court. Provisionally at least, your guilt is seen as proven."" ""But I'm not guilty,"" said K., ""there's been a mistake. How is it even possible for someone to be guilty. We're all human beings here, one like the other."" ""That is true,"" said the priest, ""but that is how the guilty speak."" ""Do you presume I'm guilty too? "" asked K. ""I make no presumptions about you,"" said the priest. ""I thank you for that,"" said K. ""but everyone else involved in these proceedings has something against me and presumes I'm guilty. They even influence those who aren't involved. My position gets harder all the time."" ""You don't understand the facts,"" said the priest, ""the verdict does not come suddenly, proceedings continue until a verdict is reached gradually."" ""I see,"" said K., lowering his head. ""What do you intend to do about your case next?"" asked the priest. ""I still need to find help,"" said K., raising his head to see what the priest thought of this. ""There are still certain possibilities I haven't yet made use of."" ""You look for too much help from people you don't know,"" said the priest disapprovingly, ""and especially from women. Can you really not see that's not the help you need?"" ""Sometimes, in fact quite often, I could believe you're right,"" said K., ""but not always. Women have a lot of power. If I could persuade some of the women I know to work together with me then I would be certain to succeed. Especially in a court like this that seems to consist of nothing but woman-chasers. Show the examining judge a woman in the distance and he'll run right over the desk, and the accused, just to get to her as soon as he can. "" The priest lowered his head down to the balustrade, only now did the roof over the pulpit seem to press him down. What sort of dreadful weather could it be outside? It was no longer just a dull day, it was deepest night. None of the stained glass in the main window shed even a flicker of light on the darkness of the walls. And this was the moment when the man in the cassock chose to put out the candles on the main altar, one by one. ""Are you cross with me? "" asked K. "" Maybe you don't know what sort of court it is you serve."" He received no answer. "" Well, it's just my own experience,"" said K. Above him there was still silence. ""I didn't mean to insult you,"" said K. At that, the priest screamed down at K.: ""Can you not see two steps in front of you?"" He shouted in anger, but it was also the scream of one who sees another fall and, shocked and without thinking, screams against his own will.",If I could persuade some of the women I know to work together with me,1,0.6029971,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 They clapped their hands, and the several eunuchs (who had come before), understanding the signal, and knowing that the party had arrived, stood in their respective positions; while Chia She, at the head of all the men of the clan, remained at the western street door, and dowager lady Chia, at the head of the female relatives of the family, waited outside the principal entrance to do the honours. For a long interval, everything was plunged in silence and quiet; when suddenly two eunuchs on horseback were espied advancing with leisurely step.","What are you still doing here? Sanzang raised his head and said, ""Where are you going?"" Teach me to do it and dare not do it, move and dare not do it, just wait for you here.",0,0.50585914,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 However, at this hour, the entire park was theirs. They had taken possession of it, sovereignly. Not a piece of land that did not belong to them. It was for them that the rosewood bloomed, that the flower bed smelt of sweet, languid odors, the whiffs of which put them to sleep at night through their open windows. The orchard nourished them, filled Albine's skirts with fruit, refreshed them with the musky shade of its branches, under which it was such a good lunch after sunrise. In the meadows they had the grasses and the waters: the grasses which extended their kingdom indefinitely, unrolling unceasingly in front of them carpets of silk; the waters which were the best of their joys, their great purity, their great innocence, the stream of coolness in which they loved to soak their youth. They owned the forest, from the huge oaks that ten men could not embrace, to the slender birches that a child would have snapped; the forest with all its trees, all its shade, its avenues, its clearings, its holes in the greenery, unknown to the birds themselves; the forest they had at their disposal as they pleased, like a giant tent, to shelter there, at noon, their tenderness born in the morning. They reigned everywhere, even over the rocks, over the springs, over this terrible soil, with monstrous plants, which had quivered under the weight of their bodies, and which they loved, more than the other soft layers of the garden, for the strange thrill they had tasted there. So now, opposite, to the left, to the right, they were the masters, they had conquered their domain, they were walking in the midst of a friendly nature, which knew them, greeting them with a laugh as they passed, offering themselves to their pleasures, as a submissive servant. And they were still enjoying the sky, the wide blue patch spread out above their heads; the walls did not enclose him, but he belonged to their eyes, he entered into their happiness of living, by day with its triumphant sun, by night with its warm rain of stars. He delighted them every minute of the day, changing like living flesh, whiter in the morning than a girl on rising, gilded at noon with a desire for fertility, swooning in the evening in the happy lassitude of his affections. The sun, hastening towards the horizon, ever found a fresh smile. Particularly in the evenings, at the hour of parting, did it delight them. Its countenance was constantly changing. At other times he threw out crimson glories, tore his vaporous robe to shreds, and set amidst wavy flames that streaked the skies like the tails of gigantic comets, whose radiant heads lit up the crests of the forest trees. Sometimes he disappeared in the midst of serene calmness, unflecked by a single cloud, sinking gradually beneath a golden sea. Then there were, on beaches of red sand, on elongated banks of pink coral, a tender star setting, blowing its rays one by one; or again a discreet setting, behind some big cloud, draped like an alcove curtain of gray silk, showing only the redness of a nightlight, at the bottom of the growing shadow; or again a passionate sunset, spilled whitenesses, little by little bleeding under the fiery disc which bit them, finally rolling with it behind the horizon, in the midst of a chaos of twisted limbs which collapsed in light.","He never had the same face. Every evening, especially, he amazed them, at the hour of farewell. The sun slipping on the horizon always found a new smile. Sometimes he went away, in the midst of a serene peace, without a cloud, drowned little by little in a bath of gold. At other times, it burst into rays of purple, it burst its robe of vapor, escaped in waves of flames which barred the sky with the tails of gigantic comets, whose hairs set fire to the tops of the high forests.",1,0.6033477,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 Mist wreathed the palace gates,","By smelling it, one could live 360 years, and by eating it, one could live 47,000 years.",1,0.60346454,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 60 Presently Yu-cun asked Zi-xing if anything of interest had happened recently in the capital. ‘I can’t think of anything particularly deserving of mention,’ said Zi-xing. ‘ Except, perhaps, for a very small but very unusual event that took place in your own clan there.’ ‘What makes you say that?’ said Yu-cun, ‘I have no family connections in the capital.’ ‘Well, it’s the same name,’ said Zi-xing. ‘They must be the same clan.’ Yu-cun asked him what family he could be referring to. ‘I fancy you wouldn’t disown the Jias of the Rong-guo mansion as unworthy of you.’ ‘Oh, you mean them,’ said Yu-cun. ‘There are so many members of my clan, it’s hard to keep up with them all. Since the time of Jia Fu of the Eastern Han dynasty there have been branches of the Jia clan in every province of the empire. The Rong-guo branch is, as a matter of fact, on the same clan register as my own; but since they are exalted so far above us socially, we don’t normally claim the connection, and nowadays we are completely out of touch with them.’ Zi-xing sighed. ‘You shouldn’t speak about them in that way, you know. Nowadays both the Rong and Ning mansions are in a greatly reduced state compared with what they used to be.’ ‘When I was last that way the Rong and Ning mansions both seemed to be fairly humming with life. Surely nothing could have happened to reduce their prosperity in so short a time?’ ‘Ah, you may well ask. But it’s a long story.’ ‘Last time I was in Jinling,’ went on Yu-cun, ‘I passed by their two houses one day on my way to Shi-tou-cheng to visit the ruins. The Ning-guo mansion along the eastern half of the road and the Rong-guo mansion along the western half must between them have occupied the greater part of the north side frontage of that street. It’s true that there wasn’t much activity outside the main entrances, but looking up over the outer walls I had a glimpse of the most magnificent and imposing halls and pavilions, and even the rocks and trees of the gardens beyond seemed to have a sleekness and luxuriance that were certainly not suggestive of a family whose fortunes were in a state of decline.’ ‘ Well! For a Palace Graduate Second Class, you ought to know better than that! Haven’t you ever heard the old saying, “The beast with a hundred legs is a long time dying”? Although I say they are not as prosperous as they used to be in years past, of course I don’t mean to say that there is not still a world of difference between their circumstances and those you would expect to find in the household of your average government official. At the moment the numbers of their establishment and the activities they engage in are, if anything, on the increase. Both masters and servants all lead lives of luxury and magnificence. And they still have plenty of plans and projects under way. In their daily wants, their extravagances, and their expenditure, they are also unable to adapt themselves to circumstances and practise economy; (so that though) the present external framework may not have suffered any considerable collapse, their purses have anyhow begun to feel an exhausting process! But that’s a small matter. There’s something much more seriously wrong with them than that. They are not able to turn out good sons, those stately houses, for all their pomp and show. The males in the family get more degenerate from one generation to the next.’ ‘ Surely,’ said Yu-cun with surprise, ‘it is inconceivable that such highly cultured households should not give their children the best education possible? I say nothing of other families, but the Jias of the Ning and Rong households used to be famous for the way in which they brought up their sons. How could they come to be as you describe ?’","But they can’t bring themselves to economize or make any adjustment in their accustomed style of living. Consequently, though outwardly they still manage to keep up appearances, inwardly they are beginning to feel the pinch.",1,0.60369825,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 The poor monk told the Taibao that he has been a monk since he was born, and he doesn't even know how to eat meat."" Sanzang put his palms together and said, ""Excellent! Hearing this, Boqin pondered for a while and said, ""Elder, the Han family has been around for a long time. , I don't know how to be a vegetarian.","And that was the end of that. 20 Sun Becomes a Doctor The Good get the help of ten thousand Providences. Their fame spreads to the four continents, Their wisdom shines on the life to come.",1,0.6039318,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 He almost fell as he sank back into his chair. His voice faltered and he hardly managed to articulate the last words. The presiding judge then read off the questions that the jurors were to answer and asked both sides to make their final statements. I will pass over all these details. At last the jurors rose, ready to retire. The presiding judge was very tired by now, so his address to the jury was quite weak; it contained all the usual exhortations, such as, “Be impartial,” “Don’t allow yourselves to be swayed by the eloquence of the defense counsel,” “Remember, however, the great burden of responsibility you bear,” etc., etc. The jurors retired and the court was adjourned. People could now stand up, stretch their legs, have a snack at the buffet, exchange impressions. It was very late, about one o'clock in the morning, but no one left. The ladies were only in hysterical impatience, but their hearts were calm: ""Justification de inevitable. "" They all prepared for a spectacular moment of general enthusiasm. Some rejoiced, others frowned, while others just hung up their noses: they did not want an excuse! Everyone waited with a sinking heart, although, however, not all of them were sinking in heart. Everyone was so tense and in tune that there was no time for peace. I confess that in the male half of the room there were too many convinced of the inevitable justification. Fetyukovich himself was sure of success. He was surrounded by people, congratulating him and showering him with flattery.","It was very late, well past 1 a.m., but no one even thought of going home. They were all much too tense and excited to think of sleep. Some people’s hearts pounded wildly as they waited, while the hearts of others continued beating quite calmly. The ladies were hysterically impatient, but they were not actually worried about the verdict: “There is not the slightest doubt—he will be acquitted!” They were all waiting for the dramatic announcement. I must say that, by then, many of the men were also convinced that the accused would be acquitted; some of them were pleased about it, while others frowned gloomily. Indeed, some looked quite sad and despondent. An acquittal, they felt, would be scandalous!",1,0.6041654,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 “I… you,” he began joyously, “you’ve no idea how I… he was so enthused whenever he talked about you, I mean Kolya, over there… I love his enthusiasm. I’ve not been corrupting him! He’s the only one I shall miss … I know, I’ll miss you all… but there’s no one, no one, there’s no one… I wanted to be a man of action, I had the right… Oh, the things I wanted! Now I want nothing, I want to want nothing, I promised myself, not to want anything. Let them seek truth and leave me out of it! Yes, Mother Nature is derisive! Why does she,” he suddenly exclaimed with fervour, “why does she create the best of life forms just in order to deride them later? I ask you, did she not create the one life form, which everyone recognized as perfect … did she not in presenting Him to the people, call upon Him to say that which caused so much blood to be spilt that if it had been spilt all at once, people would probably have drowned in it? Oh, it’s good that I’m dying! Or I too might have been led on by Mother Nature to come up with some terrible lie… I’ve not been corrupting anyone… I wanted to live in order to bring happiness to all people, in order to reveal and proclaim truth… I looked out on Meyer’s wall out of my window and meant in a mere quarter of an hour to convince everyone, just everyone, and for once in my life I… found common ground with you, if not with people! And what happened? Nothing! What’s come of it is that you despise me! I’m surplus to requirement , it follows I’m a fool , it follows – my time has come! Nor have I been able to leave any kind of a memory after me! Not a sound, not a trace, not a single deed, nor have I introduced a single concept… Don’t make fun of a fool! Forget! Forget everything!… Forget, please, don’t be so cruel! Do you know, if it hadn’t been for this consumption, I’d have killed myself anyway…”","Nothing at all! What happened is that you have come to hate me! It follows,",1,0.60428214,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 When he had bitterly reminded Dunia that he had decided to take her in spite of various evil reports, Peter Petrovich had spoken with perfect sincerity and had, indeed, felt genuinely indignant at such “black ingratitude.” And yet, when he made Dunia his offer, he was fully aware of the groundlessness of all the gossip. The story had been contradicted in every quarter by Marfa Petrovna and was by then distrusted among all the townspeople, who were warm in Dunia’s defense. And he would not have denied that he knew all that at the time. And of course, now, descending the stairs, he considered himself in the highest degree offended and unrecognized. Appearing then on a visit to Raskolnikov, he entered with the feeling of a benefactor, preparing to reap the fruits and listen to very sweet compliments. Speaking about this now to Dunya, he uttered his secret thought, cherished by him, which he had admired more than once, and could not understand how others could not admire his feat. Nevertheless, he nevertheless highly appreciated his determination to elevate Dunya to himself and considered this a feat. ","Finally, some (especially from psychologists) even admitted the possibility that he really did not look into the wallet, and therefore did not know what was in it, and, not knowing , he took it under a stone, but immediately from this and they concluded that the crime itself could not have happened otherwise than with some temporary insanity, so to speak, with a painful monomania of murder and robbery, without further goals and calculations for profit. Here, by the way, the newest fashionable theory of temporary insanity arrived, which so often they try to apply in our time to other criminals.",0,0.50347894,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 100 “Yes,” went on the youth, “ I made her acquaintance—a thing that isn’t so easy, hereabouts, you know. But Frau Chauchat and I, we managed, at the eleventh hour, we had some conversation—Ff—f!” went Hans Castorp, and drew his breath sharply through his teeth. The needle had gone in. “That was certainly a very important nerve you happened to hit on, Herr Hofrat,” he said. “I do assure you, it hurt like the devil. Thanks, a little massage does help. Yes, we came a little closer to each other, in conversation.”","Thanks, a little massage does it good. . .",1,0.605799,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 “Yes, it is worth it, it is worth it, my good engineer,” Herr Settembrini said softly, stepping closer to the young man. “It is truly hideous, you know, the way you are throwing the months around. Hideous, I say, because it is so unnatural, so foreign to your nature, purely a matter of a receptive young mind. Ah, the immoderate receptivity of youth—it can drive an educator to despair, because it is always ready to apply itself to bad ends. Do not ape the words you hear floating in the air around you, young man, but speak a language appropriate to your civilized European life. A great deal of Asia hangs in the air here. It is not for nothing that the place teems with Mongolian Muscovites—people like these.” And Herr Settembrini pointed back over his shoulder with his chin. “Do not model yourself on them, do not let them infect you with their ideas, but instead compare you own nature, your higher nature to theirs, and as a son of the West, of the divine West, hold sacred those things that by both nature and heritage are sacred to you. Time, for instance. This liberality, this barbaric extravagance in the use of time is the Asian style—that may be the reason why the children of the East feel so at home here. Have you never noticed that when a Russian says ‘four hours’ it means no more to him than ‘one hour’ does to us? The idea comes easily to mind that the nonchalance with which these people treat time has something to do with the savage expanse of their land. Too much room—too much time. It has been said that they are a nation with time on their hands—they can afford to wait. We Europeans can’t wait. We have just as little time as our noble, tidily segmented continent has space; we must carefully husband the resources of the former just as we do those of the latter—put them to use, good use, engineer! Our great cities are the perfect symbol—these centers and focal points of civilization, these crucibles of thought. Just as land values rise in cities and wasted space becomes an impossibility, in the same measure, please note, time becomes more precious there, too. Carpe diem! That was the song of a dweller in a great city. Time is a gift of the gods to humankind, that we may use it—use it, my good engineer, in the service of human progress.”",Carpe diem! An urbanite sang that song.,1,0.60603225,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 ‘Yet this is the place where all lost women are to be found,’ Grantaire grumbled privately. Marius left his friends at the dance and walked home alone, weary, feverish, his eyes blurred and sad in the dark; stunned by the noise and dust of the cheerful charabancs overtaking him, full of people singing on their way back from the festivities; feeling downhearted and, to clear his head, breathing in the pungent smell of the walnut-trees along the road. He did not, of course, see the girl he was looking for.","My ribs were iron bars. The space for the heart was too small. … When she speaks, her face is like a swiftly revolving, glittering wheel; you cannot see the separate bars. But at that moment the wheel was motionless.",0,0.50268555,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 60 At that time, I didn't feel like decorating my wife. However, when it comes to an emergency, a certain force other than myself suddenly comes and suppresses me. I have taken the plunge and tried to reveal myself to my wife many times. I don't think it's necessary to explain because it's you who understands me, but I'll tell you because it's a source to talk about. If I had confessed to her with the same sincerity and humility of heart with which I confessed to my dead friend, I know she would have wept tears of joy and forgiven all. So it was not sheer self-interest that kept me mute. No, I failed to confess for the simple reason that I could not bring myself to contaminate her memory of the past with the tiniest hint of darkness. It was agony for me to contemplate this pure creature sullied in any way, you understand.","During the service, some kind of fear attacked me - like a premonition of the future. I could barely stand in church. Finally, the coffin was closed, boarded up, put on a cart and taken away. I walked him only to the end of the street.",0,0.50219727,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 - Yes, just as a curious subject for observation. I liked you because of the fantastic nature of your situation - that's what! In addition, you are the brother of a person who interested me very much, and, finally, from this person herself in my time I heard an awful lot and often about you, from which I concluded that you have great influence over her; isn't that enough? He-he-he! However, I confess that your question is very difficult for me, and it is difficult for me to answer it for you. Well, for example, you came to me now, not only on business, but for something new? It is so? Isn’t that so?” persisted Svidrigailov with a sly smile. “Well, can’t you imagine then that on my way here in the train I too was counting on you, on the fact that you would tell me something new, and on the fact that I would make some profit out of you! That's how rich we are!",But they fixed that.,0,0.5021362,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 and in a minute he goes from a child to a giant. He has ugly teeth because he is malnourished and his stomach is in pain, and beautiful eyes because he is witty. He plays in the brook and recovers by the riot; his effrontery persists in the face of grapeshot; he was a prank, he is a hero; like the little Theban, he shakes off the lion's skin; the drummer Bara was an urchin from Paris; he shouts: Forward! All growth is possible for him. as the horse of the scripture says: Vah! He's good at it. The kid from Paris is respectful, ironic and insolent. Jehovah present, he would hop the steps of paradise.","“My old mother lies alone in the mountains, with no one to pity her or to bury her properly, so she wanders the underworld in grief and sorrow. If the trouble and expense wouldn’t be too great for you, you could take away the pain of someone’s suffering down below and also make the point that adopted daughters are not useless, and shouldn’t be drowned or abandoned.” Wang promised he would take care of it, but he was concerned that the grave might be so obscured by undergrowth that they couldn’t find it. Yingning assured him he didn’t need to worry. On the designated day, they set out with a cart and a coffin. Yingning directed them to a desolate spot in the mists and tangled growth, pointed to show them the gravesite, and indeed they found the old woman’s corpse, her leathery skin still intact. Yingning caressed the body, weeping piteously from the pain of her grieving. They carried the body away, sought for and located the family graves, and buried her there.",0,0.50183105,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 When I came here, it was the mountain storm that was the first to get ice water. I got a guy with such a front and back to take care of me with ice water, and it's related to my face. I drank only one cup, so I only pay one coin. However, whether it's a penny or five, the scammers don't feel good until they die. If you go to tomorrow's school I owe three yen from Qing. The three yen has not been returned until today, five years later. I can't return it. I won't return it. Qing does not rely on my pocket for Karisome, saying that he will return it now. I'm not going to make a good intention for others to return it now. The more I worry about this, the more I doubt the Qing dynasty's heart, and it is the same as stinging the beautiful Qing dynasty's heart. I don't return it because I don't trample on Kiyo, I think Kiyo is one of my smashes. The Qing and Yamaarashi are incomparable, but whether it's ice water or amacha, they are blessed by others, and they think that the other person is a human being, and they are kind to that person. but I am an independent fellow, and to have an independent fellow kowtow to you in acknowledgment of the favor you extend him should be considered as far more than a return acknowledgment with a million yen. I have neither title nor official position Kiyo and Porcupine cannot be compared, of course, but whether it be ice water or tea, the fact that I accept another’s favor without saying anything is an act of good-will, taking the other on his par value, as a decent fellow. Instead of chipping in my share, and settling each account, to receive munificence with grateful mind is an acknowledgment which no amount of money can purchase. because I regard her as part of myself. ","is. It is not a repayment that you can buy with money to benefit from the difficulty in your heart, where you can do just that if you give a discount. He is a full-fledged independent human being, even if he is uncrowned. It must be considered that an independent person bows his head more than a million cars.",1,0.6072557,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 It was no longer with members of his family, but with certain writers of his time that other features of his speech were common to him. Younger people who began to deny him and claimed to have no intellectual kinship with him showed it unwittingly by using the same adverbs, the same prepositions that he repeated constantly, by constructing sentences in the same way, by speaking in the same muted, slowed tone, in reaction to the eloquent, easy language of a previous generation. Perhaps these young people – we will see who were in this case – had not known Bergotte. But his way of thinking, inoculated into them, had developed there those alterations of syntax and accent which are necessarily related to intellectual originality. A relationship that requires interpretation. Thus Bergotte, if he owed nothing to anyone in his way of writing, inherited his way of speaking from one of his old comrades, a marvelous conversationalist whose ascendancy he had suffered, whom he unwittingly imitated in the conversation, but who, being less gifted, had never written truly superior books. So that if we had stuck to the originality of delivery, Bergotte would have been labeled a disciple, a second-hand writer, whereas, influenced by his friend in the field of conversation, he had been original and creative. as a writer. Doubtless still to separate themselves from the previous generation, too fond of abstractions, of grand platitudes, when Bergotte wanted to speak well of a book, what he was promoting, what he was quoting was always some scene making an image, some picture without rational meaning. There is a little girl in an orange shawl. Ah, yes!"" or again, ""Oh, yes, there is a passage in which there is a regiment marching along the street; yes, it is excellent!"" he would exclaim, ""it is quite admirable! It is excellent!"" In terms of style, he was not quite up to date (and moreover remained very exclusively from his country , he hated Tolstoy, George Eliot, Ibsen and Dostoyewsky) because the word that always came up when he wanted to do the praise of a style was the word ""gentle"". ""Yes, I still like Atala's Chateaubriand better than René's, it seems to me that it's sweeter. He said that word like a doctor to whom a patient assures him that the milk hurts his stomach and who replies: ""It's very sweet, however."" And it is true that there was in Bergotte's style a kind of harmony similar to that for which the ancients gave to some of their orators praises the nature of which we hardly conceive, accustomed as we are to our modern languages. where we are not looking for this kind of effects.","“Oh! if ! he said, it's good! there is a little girl in an orange shawl, ah! that’s good”, or even: “Oh! yes, there is a passage where there is a regiment crossing the town, ah! Yes it's good !",1,0.60743034,1
+"lexical = 80, order = 40 The supper was like most others of this kind in Paris. At first every one was silent; then followed a few confused murmurs, and afterwards several insipid jokes, false reports, false reasonings, a little politics, and a great deal of scandal. The conversation then turned upon the new productions in literature. “Tell me,” said the Abbé, “have you seen the romance written by the Sieur Gauchat, doctor of divinity?”bm “Yes,” answered one of the guests, “but I didn’t have patience to finish it. The town is pestered with a swarm of impertinent publications, but this of Dr Gauchat’s outdoes them all. In short, I was so horribly tired of reading this vile stuff, that I even decided to come here, and play cards.” “But what do you think about the Archdeacon T—’sbn miscellaneous collection?” said the Abbé. “Oh, my God!” cried the Marchioness of Parolignac, “never mention that tedious creature. He takes such pains to tell you what everyone knows; and how he talks so learnedly on matters that are hardly worth the slightest consideration! How absurdly he makes use of other people’s wit! how miserably he mangles what he has pilfered from them! The man makes me quite sick. A few pages of the good archdeacon are plenty.”","The spectators were becoming very impatient, an ominous murmur slowly arose, every one began to lose all interestin the piece, and looked about the house rather than upon the stage. Lucy laughed with Labordette; the Count de Vandeuvres emerged a little from behind Blanche’s broad shoulders; while Fauchery watched the Muffats from out of the corner of his eyes. The count looked very grave, as if he had not understood anything; and the countess, smiling vaguely, seemed wrapped in reverie.",0,0.5013428,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 In the Coupeau household the vitriol of l’Assommoir was also commencing its ravages. Gervaise could see the day coming when her husband would get a whip like Bijard’s to make her dance. Yes, Coupeau was spinning an evil thread. The time was past when a drink would make him feel good. His unhealthy soft fat of earlier years had melted away and he was beginning to wither and turn a leaden grey. He seemed to have a greenish tint like a corpse putrefying in a pond. He no longer had a taste for food, not even the most beautifully prepared stew. His stomach would turn and his decayed teeth refuse to touch it. A pint a day was his daily ration, the only nourishment he could digest. When he awoke in the mornings he sat coughing and spitting up bile for at least a quarter of an hour. It never failed, you might as well have the basin ready. He was never steady on his pins till after his first glass of consolation, a real remedy, the fire of which cauterized his bowels; but during the day his strength returned. At first he would feel a tickling sensation, a sort of pins-and-needles in his hands and feet; and he would joke, relating that someone was having a lark with him, that he was sure his wife put horse-hair between the sheets. Then his legs would become heavy, the tickling sensation would end by turning into the most abominable cramps, which gripped his flesh as though in a vise. That though did not amuse him so much. He no longer laughed; he stopped suddenly on the pavement in a bewildered way with a ringing in his ears and his eyes blinded with sparks. Everything appeared to him to be yellow; the houses danced and he reeled about for three seconds with the fear of suddenly finding himself sprawling on the ground. For God Sake ! He tensed his muscles furiously, he grabbed his glass, bet on holding it motionless, as if at the end of a marble hand; but the glass, in spite of its effort, danced the ruckus, leapt to the right, leapt to the left, with a hurried and regular little trembling. he was therefore no longer a man, he was turning into an old woman! So he emptied it into the coco, furious, yelling that he would need dozens of them and then he would carry a barrel without moving a finger. Other times, his spine in the bright sun, he shivered, like icy water running from his shoulders to his behind. What bothered him the most was a slight tremor in both hands; the right hand especially must have done something wrong, she had so many nightmares. Gervaise, on the other hand, told him to give up drink if he wished to cease trembling, and he laughed at her, emptying quarts until he experienced the sensation again, flying into a rage and accusing the passing omnibuses of shaking up his liquor.","At other times, while the sun was shining full on his back, he would shiver as though iced water had been poured down his shoulders. What bothered him the most was a slight trembling of both his hands; the right hand especially must have been guilty of some crime, it suffered from so many nightmares. Mon Dieu! was he then no longer a man? He was becoming an old woman! He furiously strained his muscles, he seized hold of his glass and bet that he would hold it perfectly steady as with a hand of marble; but in spite of his efforts the glass danced about, jumped to the right, jumped to the left with a hurried and regular trembling movement. Then in a fury he emptied it into his gullet, yelling that he would require dozens like it, and afterwards he undertook to carry a cask without so much as moving a finger.",1,0.60754675,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 “Ai ya!” Pao-yue was heard to exclaim. Every one in the whole room was plunged in consternation. After some reflection, therefore, an idea suggested itself to his mind, and pretending that it was by a slip of the hand, he shoved the candle, overflowing with tallow, into Pao-yue’s face. He had, in fact, all along hated Pao-yue; so when on this occasion, he espied him up to his larks with Ts’ai Hsia, he could much less than ever stifle feelings of resentment in his heart. At one time, she issued directions to the servants to rub and wash Pao-yue clean. At another, she heaped abuse upon Chia Huan. With precipitate haste, the lanterns, standing on the floor, were moved over; and, with the first ray of light, they discovered that Pao-yue’s face was one mass of tallow. Madame Wang gave way to anger as well as anxiety.","It turned out that when Jia Huan heard it, Su Ri hated Baoyu, but now that he was arguing with Caixia again, he couldn't hold back the poisonous gas in his heart. Although he didn't dare to say it outright, he often calculated secretly, but he couldn't make a move. Now that he saw that they were so close, he would use hot oil to burn his eyes out. Therefore, he deliberately pretended to miss and pushed the oily wax lamp into Baoyu's face. Hearing Baoyu's ""Aiyo"" sound, everyone in the room jumped. He hurriedly moved the poke lamp from the ground over, and took three or four lamps in the inner and outer rooms to see that Baoyu's face was covered in oil. Madam Wang was anxious and angry. He scolded Jia Huan again.",1,0.60754675,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 I wanted to indicate. The meek father, Hieromonk Joseph, the librarian, the beloved of the deceased, began to object to some of the scoundrels that ""this is not the case everywhere,"" countries, on Athos, for example, are not so embarrassed by the pernicious spirit, and it is not incorruptibility of the body that is considered there the main sign of the glorification of the saved, but the color of their bones, when their bodies lie for many years in the ground and even decay in it, “and if the bones are yellow, like wax, this is the main sign that the Lord has glorified the deceased righteous; if they are not yellow, but black, it means that the Lord did not deserve such glory - just like on Mount Athos, a great place where Orthodoxy has been preserved indestructible and in the brightest purity since ancient times, ”concluded Father Joseph. - “So, God deliberately wanted to point out,” others added hastily, and their opinion was accepted indisputably and immediately, for again they pointed out that if the spirit had been natural, as from any departed sinner, it would still come out later , not with such obvious haste, at least in a day, but ""this nature warned"", therefore, there is no one here like God and his deliberate finger. The first to say this was one secular, city official, an elderly man and, as far as was known about him, very pious, but, having said it aloud, he repeated only what the monks had been repeating to each other for a long time. This judgment was striking irresistibly. Soon, however, even decency itself began to be violated, and it was as if everyone felt themselves in some sort of right to violate it. “And why could this have happened,” said some of the monks, at first as if regretting, “the body had a small, dry, adhered to the bones, where could the spirit be?” They had long since uttered this hopeless word, and the worst of all was that with every almost minute a certain triumph was revealed and increased with this word.","The man who was the first to say this aloud was a middle-aged civil servant from the town, a pious man by reputation. And he had only stated aloud an idea that the monks had been whispering into each other’s ears for quite some time. These words of condemnation had long been in the air and the worst of it was that every minute the note of triumph in the tone in which they were uttered became more and more obvious. And soon even decorum began to give way, for many evidently felt that there was no longer any need for discretion now. “It’s strange, though, that this should have happened to him,” some monks said, at first pretending to be sad about it. “Why, he was so small and thin—nothing but skin and bones—it’s even hard to imagine where the smell could be coming from.” “It must be a special sign from heaven then,” others chimed in eagerly, and their opinion was accepted unquestionably when they explained that even an ordinary sinner’s body does not usually start to decay until about twenty-four hours after death, whereas in this case it had started uncannily soon, and that was also against the laws of nature and therefore must be seen as the finger of God! “God wants to warn us,” they said, and to many this argument seemed irrefutable. Father Joseph, the gentle monk-librarian and one of the closest friends of the deceased, tried to argue with some of these ill-wishers. He told them that the basis of their judgment was not necessarily true, that it was not a dogma of the Orthodox Church that the body of the righteous never decays, that it was only a belief held by some, that, indeed, in the most strictly Orthodox countries, on Mount Athos, for example, they attached no particular importance to decay and, to them, an absence of decay was not as important a sign of the deceased’s saintliness as, for instance, the color of his bones after the body had been buried for several years and had rotted in its grave. “If the bones are yellow, like wax, it is a most important sign that the Lord has glorified the deceased; if they are black instead, it shows that the Lord has deemed him unworthy of glory,” Father Joseph explained, adding: “That is what they believe on Mount Athos, a famed and holy place where Orthodox teachings have been preserved in the greatest purity since the most ancient times.”",1,0.6076632,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 “I could take issue regarding prison life,” the Prince said. “I happened to hear the story of a man who spent about twelve years in prison. He was one of my professor’s patients, receiving treatment. He suffered from fits, was often restless, he would cry and once even attempted suicide. His life in prison was sad, but, I assure you, by no means worthless. All he had for friends was a spider and a little sapling that had sprung up outside his cell window… But I think I’d better tell you about another meeting I had last year with a man. It was a rather strange case – strange, in that such cases occur very seldom. This man had once been led to the scaffold, together with others, and the death sentence by firing was read out to him for a political crime. About twenty minutes later it was commuted to a lesser form of punishment. However, in the intervening twenty minutes, or at least quarter of an hour, between the two sentences, he was fully convinced that in a few minutes he’d be dead. I was terribly keen to listen to him when he reminisced about what went on in his mind at the time, and I often urged him to talk about it. He recollected everything with extraordinary clarity, and said that he would never forget anything that happened. About twenty paces from the scaffold, surrounded by a crowd of people and some soldiers, three posts were dug in the ground because there were others under a similar sentence. The first three were led to the posts, tied fast, the execution garb – a long white cloak – was draped over them, white hoods were pulled down over their eyes to prevent them seeing the rifles, then a file of soldiers lined up in front of each post. The man who told me this story was the eighth in line, consequently he expected to be in the third group to be led to the posts. The priest did the rounds with a cross. By then he had no more than five minutes left to live. He recounted that those five minutes were like an eternity for him, a priceless treasure. He felt that in those five minutes he would be able to live so many lives that it was quite unnecessary to think about the final moment, such that he was even able to apportion them appropriately. He allotted enough time to say goodbye to his friends – this would take about two minutes, then two minutes to think back on his own life for the last time, and then the rest to cast one last look around. He recalled very well that that was just how he apportioned the time and managed to complete all three pledges. He was going to his death at the age of twenty-seven, strong and in the full bloom of health. Saying goodbye to his friends, he recalled that he had asked one of them a fairly mundane question and was very keen to hear the answer. Not far away there was a church, and the top of it, with its gilded roof, was sparkling in the bright sunlight. He thought he would be able to determine all this in those two minutes! Then, after he had taken leave of his companions, came the two minutes he had set aside for thinking about himself; he knew in advance what he was going to think about: he kept wanting to imagine as quickly and vividly as he could how it could be like this: now he existed and was alive, but in three minutes’ time he would be something, someone or something - but who? And where? He remembered looking at that roof with awful persistence, and at the beams of light that sparkled from it; he could not tear himself away from them; it seemed to him that they were his new nature, those beams, that in three minutes’ time he would somehow fuse with them ... The uncertainty and revulsion of what was imminently in store were agonizing. But in his own words nothing was more insupportable than the persistent notion, ‘What if I were not to die! What if I were to have my life back again – a whole infinity! And all would be mine! I’d make every moment last for ages , nothing would be wasted, every moment would be accounted for, everything would be taken care of!’ He confessed that eventually this thought incensed him so much that he wished they would hurry up and shoot him.”","Her whole face will be visible, she will smile, embrace him, he will hear her scent, feel the tenderness of her hand and cry happily, as he once in the evening lay down at her feet and she tickled him, and he laughed and bit her white hand with rings. Then, when he found out by chance from the nanny that his mother had not died, and his father and Lydia Ivanovna explained to him that she had died for him because she was not good (which he could no longer believe because he loved her), he was definitely I also looked for and waited for her.",0,0.5012207,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 But since he had to occupy himself completely with Delamarche, especially since he felt his resistance growing more and more sinewy and this hostile body pressed against him, he actually forgot that he was not alone with Delamarche. But all too soon he was reminded of this, for suddenly his feet gave out, which Robinson, who had thrown himself on the ground behind him, was spreading, screaming. Sighing, Karl let go of Delamarche, who took a step back. Brunelda stood in the middle of the room with her legs wide apart and her knees bent, following the proceedings with shining eyes. As if actually participating in the fight, she breathed deeply, sighted, and slowly advanced her fists. Delamarche turned down his collar, had a clear view again and now, of course, there was no more fighting, just punishment. He grabbed Karl by the front of his shirt, almost lifted him off the floor and threw him , he didn't even look at him out of contempt, so violently against a cupboard a few steps away that Karl thought at first the stabbing pains in his back and head , which caused him to hit the box, came directly from Delamarche's hand. ""You scoundrel,"" he heard Delamarche exclaim loudly in the darkness that formed before his trembling eyes. And collapsing in exhaustion in front of the closet he heard the words ‘just you wait’ like a distant echo in his ears. ","And in the initial exhaustion in which he collapsed in front of the chest, the words ""Just wait"" rang out in him. still faint in the ears.",1,0.6077796,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 80 But difficult!"" , Cangwu is the language of Lingling in Beihai. Wukong said, “Why is it 'Walking towards the North Sea and Cangwu’?” The Patriarch said, “Everyone who is born in the sky starts from the North Sea in the morning, swims through the East China Sea, the West China Sea, the South China Sea, and then turns to Cangwu. You can travel all over the four seas in one day, and you will be able to fly. Wukong said: ""This is difficult! "" The ancestor said: ""There is nothing difficult in the world Hearing this, Wukong kowtowed and said: ""Master, 'one must be thorough', simply give up great compassion and pass on this method of soaring clouds to me, never Dare to be ungrateful.""","Any self-respecting immortal can fit in a tour of the four oceans between breakfast and dinner. That’s cloud-galloping. In fact, given that it took you most of the day to travel just three miles, cloud-crawling is an overstatement.” “What you describe is fiendishly hard!” “Nothing in this world is hard. It is only the mind that makes it so.” “If you’re going to help me, then do it properly. Please teach me how to cloud-gallop.”",1,0.607896,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 You like it at first, but later it will become repulsive, and precisely because of this all too clear enunciation, this string of ever ready words. His enunciation is remarkably clear; his words spill out like big, uniform grains, always choice and always ready to be at your service.","Mr. Povondra doesn't even know that his mother usually floods his vowels with the clippings he once collected and sorted. True, Mr. Povondra stopped the collection when he retired, but he bought an aquarium where he grew tiny newts and salamanders next to golden carp, watched for hours as they lay motionless in the water or climbed to the shore, which he made from stones, then shook his head saying, ""Who would say that to them, Mommy!"" But you can't just watch, so Mr. Povondra went fishing. What to do, men always have to have something, thinks mother Povondrová.",0,0.50097656,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 After all, you think how cruel it is, but on the other hand, by God, these innocent people do it from the bottom of their hearts and are sure that this is philanthropy), then a toilet - and fell silent again, and didn't want to say anything. Here three or four hours are spent on well-known things: to the priest, to breakfast, for which they give him wine, coffee and beef (well, isn’t this a mockery? (do you know what a criminal’s toilet is?), finally, they are being driven around the city to the scaffold ... I think that here it also seems that it’s still endless remains to live while they are being driven.","Then, drawing forth a silver book in the shape of a demijohn (or a Quart of the Sentences), she immersed it in the fountain and said unto him: ‘The philosophers, preachers and divines in your world feed you with fair words through your ears: here we really incorporate our precepts through the mouth. That is why I do not say unto you, “Read this chapter; look upon this gloss.” What I say is, “Taste this chapter: ingurgitate this beautiful gloss.”",0,0.5008545,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 Next day the old man came to see his son, and sat with him, as usual, for about an hour; after which he visited ourselves, wearing on his face the most comical, the most mysterious expression conceivable. Smiling broadly with satisfaction at the thought that he was the possessor of a secret, he informed me that he had stealthily brought the books to our rooms, and hidden them in a corner of the kitchen, under Matrena’s care. Next, by a natural transition, the conversation passed to the coming fête-day; whereupon, the old man proceeded to hold forth extensively on the subject of gifts. The further he delved into his thesis, and the more he expounded it, the clearer could I see that on his mind there was something which he could not, dared not, divulge. So I waited and kept silent. The mysterious exaltation, the repressed satisfaction which I had hitherto discerned in his antics and grimaces and left-eyed winks gradually disappeared, and he began to grow momentarily more anxious and uneasy. At length he could contain himself no longer.","Finally, I would have brought him to the denouement, where he would have played exactly the role of the peasant with the innkeeper; he would have had, like the peasant, a daughter whom he was going to place with a fashion merchant, a son whom he was going to withdraw from school in order to enter a profession; he himself would have determined to beg until he grew bored of living. One would have seen the benevolent Bourru at the feet of this man; we would have heard the benevolent Bourru scolded as he deserved; he would have been forced to address all the family around him, to bend his debtor and compel him to accept new help. The benevolent Bourru would have been punished; he would have promised to correct himself; but at the very moment he would have returned to his character, becoming impatient with the characters on the stage, who would have made courtesies to return to the house; he would have said abruptly: The devil take the cerem… But he would have stopped short in the middle of the word, and, in a softened tone, he would have said to his nieces: “Come on, my nieces; give me your hand and let's go. "" And for this character to have been linked to the background, you would have made him a protege of Geronte's nephew?"" - Very good ! """,0,0.5008545,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 That evening, the confusion had never been more complete, but Raoul had never been less shy. With a solid shoulder he brushed aside everything that stood in his way, paying no attention to what was being said around him, not trying to understand the bewildered remarks of the stagehands. He was only preoccupied with the desire to see the one whose magical voice had ripped his heart out. Yes, he felt that his poor new heart no longer belonged to him. Was it a sensation or was it a feeling? In her presence he had felt sweet emotions which he had thought about and tried to chase away, for his self-respect and his religious upbringing had made him swear to love no woman except the one who would become his wife, and naturally there was no question that he should ever think of marrying a singer. But then those sweet emotions had been followed by a terrible sensation. He had tried, truly he had, to keep up his defences from the first moment Christine, whom he had known since she was a little girl, had come back into his life. It was half physical, half emotion. His chest ached, as if someone had cut it open to take out his heart. He felt a terrible hollow there, a real emptiness that could never be filled except by the heart of the other! These are events of a particular psychology which, it seems, can only be understood by those who have been struck by love with that strange blow called, in common parlance, ""love at first sight.""","The Consul was busy with his cigar and the ""advertisements. "" The Consul had lowered her silk embroidery and smiled at little Klara, who was looking for violets with Ida Jungmann on the lawn, because there were sometimes violets there. Tony had his head in both hands and was reading Hoffmann's Serapionsbrüder while Tom very carefully tickled her neck with a blade of grass, which she didn't notice out of cleverness. And Klothilde, who sat there thin and elderly in her flowered calico dress, read a story entitled: ""Blind, deaf, dumb and yet blissful""; now and then she scraped up the remains of biscuits on the tablecloth, whereupon she grasped the heap with all five fingers and carefully ate it.",0,0.5007324,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 It was all in decay, the floor was rotting, the planks were loose, the woodwork smelled musty. Dmitri led his brother to the most secluded corner of the garden. The middle of the garden was an empty grass space, from which several hundredweight of hay was carried in the summer. There were also plantations of raspberries and currants and gooseberries laid out along the sides; a kitchen garden had been planted lately near the house. There was a tradition that it had been put up some fifty years before by a retired colonel called von Schmidt, who owned the house at that time. Alyosha had at once observed his brother's exhilarated condition, and on entering the arbor he saw half a bottle of brandy and a wineglass on the table. There, in a thicket of lime-trees and old bushes of black currant, elder, snowball-tree, and lilac, there stood a tumble-down green summer-house, blackened with age. Its walls were of lattice-work, but there was still a roof which could give shelter. God knows when this summer-house was built. The garden was let out for a few roubles for the summer. In the summer-house there was a green wooden table fixed in the ground, and round it were some green benches upon which it was still possible to sit.","An araucaria especially was strange, with its long regular arms, which resembled the architecture of reptiles, grafted on top of each other, their interlocking leaves bristling like the scales of angry serpents. There, under this heavy shade, the heat had a voluptuous sleep. The air slept, without a breath, in the dampness of an alcove. A perfume of oriental love, the perfume of the painted lips of the Shunammite[35], exhaled from the fragrant woods.",0,0.5007324,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 I just wanted to know now who you are, because, you see, so many different industrialists have lately clung to the common cause and have so distorted everything that they have touched, in their interest, that they have decisively ruined the whole thing. ... “Excuse me, I’m not stupid either,” Razumikhin interrupted sharply, “and therefore let’s stop. You, of course, were in a hurry to introduce yourself in your knowledge, this is very forgivable, and I do not condemn. After all, I spoke with a purpose, otherwise all this chatter-self-consolation, all these incessant, incessant commonplaces and all the same and all the same until then at the age of three became disgusting to me, that, by God, I blush when others - then, not like me, when they say to me. There, that’s enough of that!’","‘Forgive me, but I don’t have much intelligence either,’ interrupted Razumikhin sharply. ‘ So let’s stop this. What I started saying had a point—but all this self-indulgent chatter, all these incessant, endless commonplaces, the same thing over and over, it’s all made me feel so sick over the past three years that, honest to God, I blush to hear other people talking that way, never mind myself. Of course you were in a hurry to demonstrate your knowledge to us; that’s quite pardonable and I don’t hold it against you. But all I wanted right now was to discover the sort of person you are; because so many opportunists of all kinds have lately latched on to the idea of the common good, and twisted everything they got their hands on while pursuing their own ends, that the whole idea has got thoroughly tainted.",1,0.6084777,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 60 But I certainly haven’t behaved like a scoundrel to her, and I’m really not guilty of anything in her regard; while she’s dragged me into disgrace and led me up the garden path ...","He got up, angry and despondent, and headed back toward the hotel.",0,0.5003662,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 - Well, how do I know why (he laughed again). Well then, perhaps when you take up your pen to notify them there, you will praise me, if you want Perhaps you do understand? Although I did provide explanations in the proper quarters after I returned from abroad, and I really don’t know why a man with certain convictions shouldn’t be able to act in the interests of his sincere convictions… still, no one there has yet ordered me to look into your character, and I’ve not yet taken on myself any such orders from there. Try to think of it this way: I could, after all, have divulged those two names not to you first, but run there straightaway, that is, to where I gave my initial explanations. And if I had tried to do that for money or to my own advantage, it would of course have been a miscalculation on my part, because now they will be grateful to you, and not to me. I’m doing it solely for Shatov,’ Pyotr Stepanovich added in a noble tone, ‘for Shatov alone, for the sake of our former friendship. ‘Don’t you see, dear and highly respected Andrey Antonovich, you are cunning, but it hasn’t yet come to that, and probably won’t, do you understand? I won’t contradict, hehe ! Adieu, however, stayed too long, and there was no need to talk so much! he added, not without pleasantness, and got up from the sofa.","Trifon tried hard to deny the story, but after the two men had been called in to repeat their account, he finally admitted it, although he insisted that he had at once given the hundred rubles back to Mr. Karamazov, who of course, he remarked, could not possibly remember it, “on account of the state he was in at that time.” However, since the witness had first repeatedly denied an incident which he later admitted to, his whole testimony lost much of its credibility and the inn-keeper’s honesty was put very much in question.",0,0.50024414,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 IN THE evening, at home, he sits under a palm-green lampshade. In front of him are sheets of paper, notebooks, and scraps of paper with columns of numbers. He flips through the pages of his desk calendar, jumps up, searches the shelves, pulls out bundles, kneels on a chair, and—belly on desk, fat face propped on hands—reads. The desk’s green expanse is covered with a sheet of glass. In the end, what’s so special? A man working, a man at home, in the evening, working. A man staring at a sheet of paper and twisting a pencil in his ear. Nothing special. But his entire behavior says: You’re a philistine, Kavalerov. Naturally, he doesn’t say so. There’s probably nothing of the kind in his thoughts, either. But it’s tacitly implied. Some third party is telling me this. Some third person forces me to fly into a fit at the very time I’m watching him. ",Some third party is making me rage as I observe him.,1,0.60929173,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 This urchin here’ (she pointed to Kolya), ‘he too was arguing the other day that this is what the “woman question” means. “Don’t dare to come near us”: we’re coming in. Why did you come in here with your noses in the air just now? The woman question? Even if the mother is a fool, you should still treat her like a human being! ... Worthy of respect, natural?","what do you have , for example, do you have a good waistcoat , do you have what follows from the bottom dress; whether there are boots, and what are they lined with; what do you eat, what do you drink, what do you copy? .. And what’s the big deal, mother, that even if I, where the pavement is rather poor, sometimes walk on tiptoe, that I take care of my boots! Why write about another, that he needs it sometimes, that he does not drink tea?",0,0.49951172,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 0 The Almighty came and stood as if all those in the crowd were standing on either side of the road. Vandiya Devan looked at him in wonder and said to himself, “This is Periya Pazhuvetarayar.”","His face reflected power, the pride of his position and his physical strength.",1,0.6095242,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 Time went by like the snapping of fingers, and the formal celebration of the Grand Mass on the seventh day was to take place. Xuanzang presented the Tang emperor with a memorial, inviting him to raise the incense. News of these good works was circulating throughout the empire. Upon receiving the notice, Taizong sent for his carriage and led many of his officials, both civil and military, as well as his relatives and the ladies of the court, to the temple. All the people of the city—young and old, nobles and commoners—went along also to hear the preaching. At the same time, the Bodhisattva said to Mokṣa, “Today is the formal celebration of the Grand Mass, the first seventh of seven such occasions. It’s about time for you and me to join the crowd. First, we want to see how the mass is going; second, we want to find out whether Gold Cicada is worthy of my treasures; and third, we can discover what division of Buddhism he is preaching about.” The two of them thereupon went to the temple; and so it is that Affinity will help old comrades meet As perfection returns to this holy seat. As they walked inside the temple to look around, they discovered that such a place in the capital of a great nation indeed surpassed the Ṣaḍ-varṣa,25 or even the Jetavana Garden of the Śrāvastī.26 It was truly a lofty temple of Caturdiśgaḥ,27 resounding with divine music and Buddhist chants. Our Bodhisattva went directly to the side of the platform of many treasures and beheld a form truly resembling the enlightened Gold Cicada. The poem says: All things were pure with not a spot of dust. Xuanzang of the Great Law sat high onstage. Lost souls, redeemed, approached the place unseen; The city’s highborn came to hear the Law. You give when time’s ripe: this intent’s far-reaching. You die as you please, the Canon door’s open. As they heard him rehearse the Boundless Law, Young and old were glad and comforted. Another poem says: Since she made a tour of this holy site, She met a friend unlike all other men. They spoke of the present and of countless things— Of merit and trial in this world of dust. The cloud of Law extends to shroud the hills; The net of Truth spread wide to fill all space. Asses your lives and return to good thoughts, For Heaven’s grace is rife as falling blooms. On the platform, that Master of the Law recited for a while the Sūtra of Life and Deliverance for the Dead; he then lectured for a while on the Heavenly Treasure Chronicle for Peace in the Nation, after which he preached for a while on the Scroll on Merit and Self-Cultivation.28 The Bodhisattva approached, patted the treasured stage and shouted loudly, ""Then, monk, you only talk about the Hinayana teachings, but can you talk about the Mahayana?"" When Xuanzang heard this question, he was filled with delight. He turned and leaped down from the platform, raised his hands and saluted the Bodhisattva, saying, “Venerable Teacher, please pardon your pupil for much disrespect. I only know that the priests who came before me all talk about the teachings of the Little Vehicle. I have no idea what the Great Vehicle teaches.” “The doctrines of your Little Vehicle,” said the Bodhisattva, “cannot save the damned by leading them up to Heaven; they can only mislead and confuse mortals. I have in my possession Tripitaka, three collections of the Great Vehicle Laws of Buddha, which are able to send the lost to Heaven, to deliver the afflicted from their sufferings, to fashion ageless bodies, and to break the cycles of coming and going.”","The Bodhisattva drew near and thumped her hands on the platform, calling out in a loud voice, “Hey, monk! You only know how to talk about the teachings of the Little Vehicle. Don’t you know anything about the Great Vehicle?”",1,0.60987276,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 “Yes, sir, we had a case that was almost the same in our legal practice, sir, a psychological case, a morbid one, sir,” Porfiry rattled on, speaking very quickly. “That fellow also tried to cast aspersions on himself as a murderer, sir, and this is how he did it: he invented an extensive hallucination, presented facts, explained circumstances, became muddled, and wound up confusing everyone and everything. And what for? He himself, absolutely unintentionally, was partly the cause of the murder, but only in part, and as soon as he learned that he had given the murderers a pretext for the crime, he became miserable, lost the ability to think clearly, began seeing visions, went completely mad, and even persuaded himself that he was the murderer! Finally, the Governing Senate heard the case, and the unfortunate man was acquitted and provided with care. Thanks to the Governing Senate! Oh dear, ay yi yi! So what then, old boy? You can end up with a fever if such impulses happen to irritate your nerves and you go around at night ringing doorbells and asking about blood! I’ve learned all this psychology in my legal practice, sir. In this way a man can sometimes feel inclined to throw himself out a window or jump from a bell tower; the emotion can be very seductive. Same for ringing doorbells. . . . It’s an illness, Rodion Romanovich, an illness! You’ve begun to neglect your illness too much, sir. You ought to consult an experienced doctor—what’s the use of that fat fellow of yours?… You’re delirious! You’re doing all these things in your delirium!”","You ought to consult an experienced doctor, and not that chubby fellow you see! You’re delirious!",1,0.6102212,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 All this delicacy, as I said, now seemed obsolete because it was deprived of its voluntary nature and thus of all merit. The presence of Mynheer Peeperkorn all too thoroughly eliminated the possibility of any tactic that would not have involved extreme restraint. On the evening of his arrival, Hans Castorp had seen from his box the sleigh, on whose box the Malayan valet was sitting next to the coachman, a little yellow man with a fur collar on his overcoat and in a stiff hat, coming up the path loop at a walk, and at Clawdia’s side in the The stranger was sitting behind him, his hat on his forehead. That night Hans Castorp had slept little. In the morning there had been no difficulty in learning the name of the confusing fellow, with the added bonus that both had moved into adjoining privileged quarters on the first floor. He was early at breakfast, and sat in his place erect but pale, awaiting the slamming of the glass door. It hadn't happened. Clawdia's entrance had been silent, for behind her Mynheer Peeperkorn had closed the glass door - tall, broad and high-starred, white blazing around the mighty head, he had followed in the footsteps of the traveling companion, who approached her table with the familiar cat's footsteps, head thrust forward had. Yes, it was, unchanged. Contrary to the program and oblivious to himself, Hans Castorp embraced her with his bleary-eyed gaze. It was her reddish-blond hair, not elaborately styled but simply braided around her head, it was her ""Steppenwolf lights"", the curve of her neck, her lips, which appeared fuller than they were because of that emphasis on the cheekbones, which is a graceful one Concavity of the cheeks themselves caused... Clawdia! he thought, shuddering - and he looked at the unexpected man, not without a mockingly defiant raising of his head at the mask-like magnificence of his appearance, not without a challenge to his heart to make fun of the mighty power of a present property right, which was cast in a rather crooked light by certain pasts: certain pasts indeed, not obscurely uncertain ones, situated in the field of amateurish oil painting, as they had probably been able to unsettle him himself ... Also her manner before taking a seat towards the hall Mrs. Chauchat had kept her face smiling, presenting herself, as it were, to society, and Peeperkorn followed her in this, standing at an angle behind her, allowing the little ceremony to be performed, and then settling down at his end of the table by Clawdia's side.","Then the first breakfast had come, when he had been at his place early and pale enough, waiting for the glass door to slam shut.",1,0.6103373,1
+"lexical = 100, order = 100 ""","“How can we?” said the officers. “Though the leaders are not scared, the horses are spent.”",0,0.49816898,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 At last the head waiter put down the newspaper with a yawn, assured himself through a glance that Karl was still present, and switched on the bell on the table telephone. He shouted hello several times, but there was no answer. “There’s no answer,” he said to the head porter. The latter, who was, Karl thought, following the telephone conversation with particular interest, said: “Well, it’s a quarter to six. She must be awake by now. Try to make it ring louder.” At that moment, without further prompting, an answering call came through. “Hello, this is Head Waiter Isbary,” said the head waiter. “Good morning, Madame Head Cook. But I hope I haven’t awakened you. I’m very sorry. Yes, yes, it’s already a quarter to six. All the same, I’m truly sorry I gave you a fright. You should turn off the telephone when you go to sleep. No, no, I don’t really have any excuse, especially given the trivial nature of the affair I wish to discuss with you. But of course I have time, please go on, and if you don’t mind, I shall remain on the line. She must have run to the telephone in her nightdress,” the head waiter smilingly informed the head porter, who throughout this exchange had been bent over the telephone apparatus with a tense expression on his face. “I did wake her. She’s usually awakened by the little girl who does her typewriting and who, quite exceptionally, must have neglected to do so today. I’m sorry I startled her; she’s already nervous enough.” “Why has she stopped talking?” “She’s gone to find out what happened to the girl,” replied the head waiter, who had already put the receiver to his ear, since the telephone was ringing again. “She’ll turn up all right,” he continued, speaking into the telephone. “You shouldn’t let everything scare you so. You really need a complete rest. Well, here’s my little question. There’s a lift boy, called”—he turned around and glanced inquiringly at Karl, who was paying close attention and could therefore help by giving his name—“well, called Karl Rossmann; if my memory serves me right, you took a certain interest in him; unfortunately, he did little to repay your kindness, left his post without permission, causing me great difficulties of still unknown dimensions, so I’ve just dismissed him. I hope you won’t take it amiss. What do you mean? Dismissed, yes, dismissed. But I told you that he left his post. No, dear Madame Head Cook, I really cannot yield to you in this instance. It’s a question of my authority, there’s a great deal at stake here; it takes only one such boy for the entire gang to go bad. One has to be devilishly alert, especially with those lift boys. No, no, in this case I cannot do you a favor, although I always very much endeavor to defer to your wishes. And if despite all this I did leave him here, it would serve no other purpose than to keep my blood boiling; and indeed it is for your sake, yes, for your sake, Head Cook, that he cannot stay. He certainly doesn’t deserve the interest you take in him, and since I not only know him but you too, I realize that this would inevitably create the most grievous disappointments for you, and I wish to spare you those at all costs. I’m being very frank with you, even though the obstinate boy we’re talking about is standing only a few steps away. He’s dismissed, no, no, Head Cook, entirely dismissed. No, no, he’s not being transferred to some other work, he’s completely unusable. Besides, I keep on hearing additional complaints. For instance, the head porter, what was that again, Feodor; well, the head porter has been complaining about the boy’s cheekiness and impoliteness. Beg your pardon, you’re saying this won’t suffice? Listen, Madame Head Cook, you’re going against your own nature merely for the sake of this boy. And you mustn’t pester me like this.”",I hope you’re not taking this to heart.,1,0.6111499,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 After his sudden and unexpected meeting with Liza, which I have already described, he set off again in an even greater state of oblivion. The high road ran half a verst from Skvoreshniki, and strangely enough, he didn’t even notice at first how he had come to be on it. It was unbearable for him just then to think anything through or even to be clearly aware of anything. The fine rain now stopped, now began again; he didn’t even notice the rain. Nor did he notice that he had thrown the bag over his shoulder and that made it easier for him to walk. He must have gone something like a verst or a verst and a half when he suddenly stopped and looked around. The old, black and rutted road stretched before him in an unbroken thread, with white willows planted on either side. To the right there was an utterly bare spot, where the harvest had long ago been reaped; to the left were bushes, and beyond them a wooded area. And in the distance, in the far distance, the barely perceptible line of the railway ran crosswise, and on it the faint smoke of some train, but no sound could be heard. Stepan Trofimovich quailed somewhat, but only for a moment. After sighing for no particular reason, he set his bag by a willow tree and sat down to rest. As he moved to sit down, he felt a chill and wrapped himself in his plaid; then, suddenly noticing the rain, he opened his umbrella over himself. He remained sitting for a rather long time like this, moving his lips now and then and firmly gripping the umbrella handle in his hands. Various images scudded before him in a feverish train, one rapidly succeeding the other in his mind. ‘Lise, Lise,’ he thought, ‘and with her, ce Maurice… Strange people… Well, wasn’t that a strange fire, and what were they talking about, and what people were murdered? … I think Stasie hasn’t had time to find out anything yet and is still waiting for me with a cup of coffee… Cards? Did I actually lose to some people at cards? Hmm… in this Russia of ours, during the time of so-called serfdom… Oh, my God, and Fedka?’",A game of cards?,1,0.6111499,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 Now (as I did not know at the time the influence that this family must have had on my life), this statement should have seemed to me pointless, but it caused me great suffering, that experienced by a self, largely abolished for a long time, to be separated from Gilberte. The family of the director of the Ministry of Posts.","I must grant him this, however: he was kind enough to add that, if he had ever deplored his prejudice in the matter, it was in my case, since he thought that we would be happy and well matched in our union.",0,0.49725348,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 He kept running constantly to Katerina Ivanovna herself for every little thing, even searching for her at the shopping arcade, persistently calling her “Madame Ensign.” She finally grew so sick and tired of him, even though at first she would say that she would have been completely lost had it not been for this “obliging and generous” man. Katerina Ivanovna had provided the purchases herself, with the help of one lodger, some pitiful Pole, who was living at Madame Lippevekhsel’s for some reason or other, and who’d immediately volunteered to assist Katerina Ivanovna with her errands, and had run around all the day before, and had raced around all that morning with his tongue hanging out, apparently hoping that this activity would be noticed by everyone. There wasn’t a great deal of wine or an array of different kinds, nor was there any Madeira: that was an exaggeration; but there was some wine. It was characteristic of Katerina Ivanovna to paint everybody and anybody she met in the best and brightest colors, to praise him such that others felt embarrassed, to conceive of various circumstances on their behalf that had never existed, to believe completely sincerely and wholeheartedly in their existence, and then all at once, suddenly, to be disillusioned, break off with them, humiliate them, and banish the person she had literally worshipped only a few hours ago. There was vodka, rum, and Lisbon wine, all of very poor quality, but all in sufficient quantity. As for the food, besides the traditional kutya,* there were three or four dishes (including pancakes, incidentally), all from Amaliya Ivanovna’s kitchen; in addition, two samovars were brought in to provide tea and punch after the meal. She had a naturally merry, lively and peace-loving disposition, but due to her continual failures and misfortunes she had come to desire so keenly that everyone should live in peace and joy and should not dare to break the peace that the slightest problem, the smallest disaster reduced her almost to a frenzy, and she would pass in an instant from the brightest hopes and fancies to cursing her fate and raving and knocking her head against the wall. Amalia Ivanovna, too, suddenly acquired extraordinary importance in Katerina Ivanovna’s eyes and was treated by her with extraordinary respect, probably only because Amalia Ivanovna had thrown herself heart and soul into the preparations. She had undertaken to lay the table, to provide the linen, crockery, etc., and to cook the dishes in her kitchen, and Katerina Ivanovna had left it all in her hands and gone off to the cemetery. Everything had been well done. Even the tablecloth was nearly clean; the crockery, knives, forks and glasses had been lent by different lodgers and were naturally of all shapes and patterns, but the table was properly laid at the time fixed, and Amalia Ivanovna, feeling she had done her work well, had put on a black silk dress and a cap with new mourning ribbons and met the returning party with some pride. This pride, though justifiable, displeased Katerina Ivanovna for some reason: “as though the table could not have been laid except by Amalia Ivanovna!” She disliked the cap with its new ribbons, too. “Could she be so dismissive, the stupid German, because she was the mistress of the house and had agreed as a favor to help her poor tenants! As a favor! Imagine! Katerina Ivanovna’s father, who had been a colonel and almost a governor, had sometimes had the table set for forty people, and anyone like Amalia Ivanovna, or rather Ludwigovna, would not have been allowed into the kitchen.” Katerina Ivanovna, however, put off expressing her feelings for the time being and contented herself with treating her coldly, though she decided inwardly that she would certainly have to put Amalia Ivanovna down and set her in her place, for goodness only knew how highly she thought of herself. Katerina Ivanovna was irritated too by the fact that hardly any of the tenants whom she had invited had come to the funeral, except the Pole who had just managed to run into the cemetery, while to the memorial dinner the poorest and most insignificant of them had turned up, the wretched creatures, many of them not quite sober. The older and more respectable ones among them stayed away, as if by common consent. Peter Petrovich Luzhin, for instance, who could be described as the most respectable of all the tenants, did not appear, though Katerina Ivanovna had the evening before told the whole world, that is Amalia Ivanovna, Polenka, Sonia and the Pole, that he was the most generous, noble-hearted man with a large property and vast connections, who had been a friend of her first husband’s, and a guest in her father’s house, and that he had promised to use all his influence to secure her a considerable pension. It must be noted that when Katerina Ivanovna praised anyone’s connections and fortune, it was without any ulterior motive, entirely disinterestedly, for the mere pleasure of increasing the importance of the person praised. Probably “taking his cue” from Luzhin, “that contemptible wretch Lebeziatnikov had not turned up either. Why did he think so highly of himself? He was only invited out of kindness and because he was sharing the same room with Peter Petrovich and was a friend of his: it would have been awkward not to invite him.” Among those who failed to appear were “the genteel lady and her old-maidish daughter,” who had only been lodgers in the house for the last fortnight, but had several times complained of the noise and uproar in Katerina Ivanovna’s room, especially when Marmeladov had come back drunk. Katerina Ivanovna heard this from Amalia Ivanovna who, quarrelling with Katerina Ivanovna, and threatening to turn the whole family out of doors, had shouted at her that they “were not worth the foot” of the honorable lodgers whom they were disturbing. Katerina Ivanovna determined now to invite this lady and her daughter, “whose foot she was not worth,” and who had turned away haughtily when she met them casually, so that they might know that “she was more noble in her thoughts and feelings and did not harbor malice,” and might see that she was not accustomed to her way of living. She had proposed to make this clear to them at dinner with allusions to her late father’s governorship, and also at the same time to hint that it was extremely stupid of them to turn away on meeting her. The fat colonel-major (he was really a discharged officer of low rank) was also absent, but it appeared that he had “not been himself ” for the last two days. The party consisted of the Pole, a wretched looking clerk with a spotty face and a greasy coat, who had not a word to say for himself and smelt abominably, and a deaf and almost blind old man who had once been in the post office and who had been maintained by someone at Amalia Ivanovna’s for as long as anyone could remember. A retired clerk of the commissariat department came, too; he was drunk, had a loud and extremely indecent laugh and, just imagine—he came without a waistcoat! One of the visitors sat straight down at the table without even greeting Katerina Ivanovna. Finally, one person with no suit on appeared in his dressing gown, but this was too much, and the efforts of Amalia Ivanovna and the Pole succeeded in removing him. The Pole brought with him, however, two other Poles who did not live at Amalia Ivanovna’s and whom no-one had seen here before. All this irritated Katerina Ivanovna intensely. “For whom had they made all these preparations then?” To make room for the visitors the children had not even had places laid for them at the table; but the two little ones were sitting on a bench in the furthest corner with their dinner laid on a box, while Polenka, as the biggest girl, had to look after them, feed them, and keep their noses wiped like well-bred children’s. Katerina Ivanovna, in fact, could hardly help meeting her guests with increased dignity, and even arrogance. She stared at some of them with particular severity, and loftily invited them to take their seats. Rushing to the conclusion that Amalia Ivanovna must be responsible for those who were absent, she began treating her with extreme indifference, which the latter promptly observed and resented. Such a beginning was not a good omen for the end. All were seated at last.","There was not a large selection of wines, nor was there Madeira; but wine there was nevertheless. There was vodka, rum and Lisbon wine, all of the poorest quality but in sufficient quantity. Besides the traditional rice and honey, there were three or four dishes, one of which consisted of pancakes, all prepared in Amalia Ivanovna’s kitchen. Two samovars were boiling in order that tea and punch might be offered after dinner. Katerina Ivanovna had herself seen to purchasing the provisions, with the help of one of the lodgers, an unfortunate little Pole who had somehow been stranded at Madame Lippewechsel’s. He promptly put himself at Katerina Ivanovna’s disposal and had been running around all day as fast as his legs could carry him, and was very anxious that everyone should be aware of it. For every minor problem he ran to Katerina Ivanovna, even hunting her out at the market, at every instant called her “Pani.” She was thoroughly sick of him before the end of it, though she had declared at first that she could not have got on without this “serviceable and magnanimous man.” It was one of Katerina Ivanovna’s characteristics to paint everyone she met in the most glowing colors. Her praises were so exaggerated as to be embarrassing on occasion; she would invent various circumstances to the credit of her new acquaintance and quite genuinely believe in their reality. Then all of a sudden she would be disillusioned and would rudely and contemptuously repulse the person she had been literally adoring only a few hours previously.",1,0.61242557,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 ""Certainly, Engineer, certainly."" Mr. Settembrini's voice was soft, resigned, and yet contained a slight tremor. ' You can answer me that, and therefore answer me. Well, I'm willing to answer. In brief, it is true that I visit him, that he visits me, that we take our strolls together. I live under the same roof with the gentleman, it was inevitable that we would meet, that one thing would lead to another, that we would become acquainted. Herr Naphta is a man of intellect—and that is rare. He is loquacious by nature—and so am I. Let those who would judge me do so— I took advantage of the opportunity to cross intellectual swords with an opponent who is, after all, my equal. We argue. There is no one else, far and wide. We quarrel to the death almost every day, but I confess that the contradiction and hostility of his thoughts makes me all the more appealing to meet him. I need the friction. Alignments don't live if they don't have a chance to fight, and—I'm settled in mine. How could you say the same about yourself - you, lieutenant, or you too, engineer? You are unarmed against intellectual delusion, you are exposed to the danger of being damaged in spirit and soul under the influence of this half-fanatical, half-malicious rabble-rousing.”","I live under the same roof with this gentleman, encounters are inevitable, one word leads to another, one makes acquaintances. Mr. Naphta is a man of brains - that is rare. He is a discursive nature - so am I. Judge me whoever will, but I make use of the opportunity to cross the sword of the idea with an opponent who is at least an equal. I have nobody far and wide... In short, it's true, I come to him, he comes to me, we also promenade together. we argue.",1,0.61254144,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 20 I feel dreadfully upset. Listen what has happened here. I foresee something momentous. Judge yourself, my precious friend; Mr. Bykov is in Petersburg, Fedora met him. He was driving, he ordered the cab to stop, went up to Fedora himself and began asking where she was living. At first she would not tell him. Then he said, laughing, that he knew who was living with her. (Evidently Anna Fyodorovna had told him all about it.) Then Fedora could not contain herself and began upbraiding him on the spot, in the street, reproaching him, telling him he was an immoral man and the cause of all my troubles. He answered, that one who has not a halfpenny is bound to have misfortunes. Fedora answered that I might have been able to earn my own living, that I might have been married or else have had some situation, but that now my happiness was wrecked for ever and that I was ill besides, and would not live long. To this he answered that I was still young, that I had still a lot of nonsense in my head and that my virtues were getting a little tarnished (his words). Fedora and I thought he did not know our lodging when suddenly, yesterday, just after I had gone out to buy some things in the Gostiny Dvor he walked into our room. I believe he did not want to find me at home. He questioned Fedora at length concerning our manner of life, examined everything we had; he looked at my work; at last asked, “Who is this clerk you have made friends with?” At that moment you walked across the yard; Fedora pointed to you; he glanced and laughed; Fedora begged him to go away, told him that I was unwell, as it was, from grieving, and that to see him in our room would be very distasteful to me. He was silent for a while; said that he had just looked in with no object and tried to give Fedora twenty-five roubles; she, of course, did not take it. What can it mean? What has he come to see us for? I cannot understand where he has found out all about us! I am lost in conjecture. Fedora says that Axinya, her sister-in-law, who comes to see us, is friendly with Nastasya the laundress, and Nastasya’s cousin is a porter in the office in which a friend of Anna Fyodorovna’s nephew is serving. So has not, perhaps, some ill-natured gossip crept round? But it is very possible that Fedora is mistaken; we don’t know what to think. Is it possible he will come to us again! The mere thought of it terrifies me! When Fedora told me all about it yesterday, I was so frightened that I almost fainted with terror! What more does he want? I don’t want to know him now! What does he want with me, poor me? Oh! I am in such terror now, I keep expecting Bykov to walk in every minute. What will happen to me, what more has fate in store for me? For Christ’s sake, come and see me now, Makar Alexyevitch. Do come, for God’s sake, come.",I'm at a loss.,1,0.61254144,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 - ""Where did you get the earrings?"" - ""Found on the panel."" - ""We've never heard anything so special."" "" - ""Didn't you hear what, what noise and other things?"" - ""Why didn't you come to work with Mitrey the next day?"" - ""Because, etta, I went on a spree."" “I don’t know to know, I don’t know to know. - ""Where did you go for a walk?"" - "" First from Afanasy Pavlych, on the third day, I heard in a drunken room. "" “Did you know, Mikolai, on that very day that such and such a widow was killed and robbed with her sister on such and such a day and hour?”","Their hair hung about their shoulders, and they were barefooted. They danced and skipped and went through their performance outside. The guests inside clapped their hands and applauded their skill, and the soldiers joined in the choruses. Presently, at a signal from their father, two of Yang Feng's sons bore two goblets to Meng Huo and Meng You. Meng Huo and Meng You took the cups and were raising them to their lips when Yang Feng shouted a single word of command, and, instantly, the cupbearers had the two brothers out of their seats and helpless in their hands. At this, Duo Si jumped up to run away, but Yang Feng gripped him, and he was a prisoner too.",0,0.49609384,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 'But, dear Fraulein Edith, don't look to me for mysterious motives. When a few dozen men are harnessed to the same cart, one always pulls harder than the others, and when it’s a question of promotion and seniority, it’s easy to tread on the toes of the man ahead of you. Well, from within things don’t look nearly so splendid, and as for all the vaunted camaraderie, it sometimes lets you down with a bump. It has never entered my head to ask myself why I go to see this person and that, why I like some people and not others. On my word ... I really can’t give you any more coherent reason than that I come here again and again ... simply because I like coming here and because I feel a hundred times happier here than anywhere else. I think you civilians are rather too apt to picture the life of a cavalryman as something out of light opera, an everlastingly riotous, gay existence, a sort of perpetual feast. After all, you know me well enough to know that I am the sort of person who doesn’t think a great deal about his own motives. You have to be careful with every word you say, you're never quite sure if you're not going to arouse the displeasure of the bigheads; there is always thunderstorm hanging in the air. Service comes from serving, and serving is dependent. And then, a barracks and an inn table are never really a home; no one needs one there and no one cares about one. Yes, yes, it's sometimes quite jolly with the comrades, but you never really get any ultimate sense of security. On the other hand, when I come to you, I put away all doubts with the saber, and when I chat with you so comfortably, then...""","After all, you know me enough to know that I'm someone who doesn't think much about myself. I swear to you, it has never occurred to me to examine myself, why I go to this and that, why I like some people and not others. My word - I really can't tell you anything smarter or stupider than that I keep coming to you - precisely because I like coming to you and because I feel a hundred times better here than anywhere else. I think you imagine our cavalry a bit too much like the operetta, always smart, always funny, a kind of eternal church festival. Well, things don't look so lavish from the inside, and even with the much-vaunted camaraderie, things get a little windy at times. Where a few dozen are harnessed to the same cart, one always pulls harder than the other, and where there are advancements and rankings, it's easy to step on the toes of the man in front.",1,0.61323655,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 What man, what father, could be angry with a son for returning to him suddenly, for falling on his neck, and exclaiming, ""I am here again, my father! I am happy only where thou art, and in thy presence am I content to suffer or enjoy."" forgive me if I have anticipated my journey, and returned before the appointed time! The world is everywhere the same, -- a scene of labour and pain, of pleasure and reward; but what does it all avail? Father, whom I know not, -- who wert once wont to fill my soul, but who now hidest thy face from me, -- call me back to thee; be silent no longer; thy silence shall not delay a soul which thirsts after thee.","and Faldoni there too, and he is at one with them ; I sent him today to the sausage shop, so bring something; does not go and only, there is a thing, he says! “But you have to,” I say. “No, he says, he’s not obliged, you don’t pay money to my mistress, so I don’t owe you.” I could not stand an insult from him, from an uneducated peasant, and even told him a fool; and he told me - ""I heard from a fool. "" I think that he said such rudeness to me from drunken eyes, - and I say, you, they say, are drunk, you are such a man! and he told me: “Did you bring something to me?",0,0.49523938,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 When she put them on their knees at the porch, they were still in slippers, whatever they were, but in cloaks, everything was as it was, but merchant children; and then the barefoot ones went running: the child’s clothes are on fire, you know. Well, what about the children: there would be sunshine Well, they helped at first, and then went to get hired. The mother screamed with her chicks, drove the orphans out of the house, and not only out of malice, but sometimes a person himself does not know by what impulse he stands his ground. Yes, but what kind of earnings do we have, besides the factories; there he will wash the floors, there he will fly out in the garden, there he will heat a bathhouse, and with a baby in his arms he will howl; and four others are running down the street in shirts.","The mother wailed with her nurselings. He turned the orphans out of the house, and not from spite only, for, indeed, a man sometimes does not know himself what drives him to carry out his will. Well, people helped her at first and then she went out to work for hire. But there was little to be earned, save at the factory; she scrubs floors, weeds in the garden, heats the bath-house, and she carries the babe in her arms, and the other four run about the streets in their little shirts. When she made them kneel down at the church porch they still had little shoes, and little jackets of a sort, for they were merchant's children but now they began to run barefoot. A child soon gets through its little clothes we know. Well, the children didn't care:",1,0.6139312,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 At the Place Saint-Michel there were many vehicles, and pedestrians hurrying here and there; several times we were caught between two carriages, and then he would take a breath and relax a bit, and there would be a bit of hopping and nodding. It went well. His will had been breached in two places, and in submitting his obsessed muscles had been left with a mild, goading animation and that compulsive two-beat rhythm. But the stick was still in its place, and the hands looked grim and wrathful; in this way, we walked out on to the bridge, and all was well. Maybe that was the stratagem by which his cornered malady meant to get the better of him. But now his walk became noticeably uncertain; first he ran two steps, then he stopped. Stopped. His left hand gently let go of the cane, and rose so slowly that I could see it tremble in the air. He pushed his hat back slightly and drew his hand across his brow. He turned his head slightly, and his gaze wobbled over sky, houses, and water, without grasping a thing. And then he gave in. The cane was gone, he stretched out his arms as if he were trying to fly, and some kind of elemental force exploded from him and bent him forward and dragged him back and made him keep nodding and bowing and flung a horrible dance out of him into the midst of the crowd. For he was already surrounded by people, and I could no longer see him.","Perhaps that was the trick by which the imprisoned illness hoped to subdue him. His willpower had cracked in two places, and the damage had left in his possessed muscles a gentle, alluring stimulation and this compelling two-beat rhythm. But the cane was still in its place, and the hands looked annoyed and angry. As we stepped onto the bridge, it was all right. It was still all right.",1,0.6141626,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 As he walked on, his mood was softened by the bright, warm morning and the unceasing birdsong in the air. A cart came driving toward him; the boy driver says hello, Nagel does likewise, and a trailing dog wags his tail and looks him straight in the eye.... He mourned over it yet; he had laid down to rest full of pleasure at having come to an end, a mild joy had permeated him, until he closed his eyes and began to sleep. Now Dagny had gotten up, maybe she had already gone out, and he had not been able to please her in any way. How he felt despised! But why had he not succeeded in dying honestly and honestly tonight? Miniman had added one more kindness to the many others his heart overflowed with, he had done him a favor and saved his life—the very same favor he himself had once done a stranger, an unfortunate who didn’t want to land in Hamburg. It was on that occasion he had earned his lifesaving medal, heh-heh, earned his lifesaving medal! Oh sure, you save people, you don’t hesitate to do a good deed sometimes, you go straight ahead and save people from death!","But why hadn’t he managed to die last night, fairly and squarely? He still grieved over it. He had laid himself to rest feeling quite satisfied to have reached the end; he was filled with a gentle happiness until he closed his eyes and fell asleep. By this time Dagny was up, maybe she had already gone out, and he hadn’t been able to do anything nice for her. He couldn’t have felt more ignominiously taken in!",1,0.6142783,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 This was the period in her career when Nana’s star blazed with ever-increasing brilliance and her vicious life loomed even larger on the horizon of vice of Paris. Her shameless luxury, her majestic, total disregard for money, so that whole fortunes melted away before everyone’s eyes, had the capital at her feet. Her grand residence was like some glowing furnace where desire was constantly at white heat and her slightest breath could turn gold into fine ash, to be swept away by the wind. Nobody had ever seen such raging extravagance. This courtesan, who had the tastes of a parrot and gobbled up radishes and burnt almonds and pecked at the meat upon her plate, had monthly table bills amounting to five thousand francs. The great house seemed to have been built over a gulf in which men--their worldly possessions, their fortunes, their very names--were swallowed up without leaving even a handful of dust behind them. The waste in her kitchen was indescribable, a gigantic haemorrhage, with whole barrels of wine being guzzled and her bills swelling to grotesque proportions as they passed through three or four different hands. The kitchen was under the complete control of Victorine and François; here they would entertain their friends, not forgetting a whole tribe of cousins whose families they kept supplied with cold meats and unlimited quantities of beef-stock. Julien insisted on getting his rake-off from the tradesmen, and every pane of glass, replaced at a cost of one franc, carried a 50 per-cent surcharge for himself; Charles devoured oats by the bushel for his horses, buying double the quantity required and selling off at the back-door whatever was delivered at the front. And at the centre of this wholesale looting operation, like the ransacking of a captured town, Zoé was artfully contriving to save appearances, and covering everybody else ’s thefts in order to include and protect her own. But even worse was the waste: yesterday’s left-overs went straight into the rubbish bin, together with piles of food the servants had got tired of; glasses smeared with sugar, gas-jets left burning full on, threatening to blow up the house; spitefulness, neglect, and bungling, everything that could accelerate the ruin of a household plundered by so many greedy mouths. Upstairs, aided and abetted by the mistress, the collapse was going ahead even more merrily: dresses costing ten thousand francs, worn twice before being discarded and sold off by Zoé; jewellery left mouldering in drawers; stupid purchases, the ‘latest thing’, forgotten the following day and tipped out into the street. She was incapable of seeing anything expensive without wanting to acquire it, swamping herself in floods of flowers and trinkets, all bought on impulse; and the more expensive these things were, the happier she was. She couldn’t hang on to anything: in her dainty white fingers everything disintegrated, withered, or got filthy; strewn around in her wake you’d find tatty, muddy rags, every kind of miscellaneous rubbish. And then, after spending money like water, she was hit by the big bills: twenty thousand francs at the milliner’s, thirty thousand for the linen-draper, twelve thousand for the shoemaker; her stables mopped up another fifty thousand; and in six months she ran up a bill for one-hundred-and-twenty thousand francs with her dressmaker. Without making any change in a life-style which Labordette had estimated to cost an average of four hundred thousand francs, in her very first year she got through a million francs. She couldn’t believe it herself: where on earth had all that money gone? Not even the barrow-loads of cash from the men lining up to get her to bed could stem the flood undermining the foundations of her opulent mansion, which was tottering under the strain.","We are not greedy, no, but, nevertheless, give us money, more, more, as much money as possible, and you will see how generously, with what contempt for despicable metal, we scatter them in one night in unrestrained revelry. And if they don't give us money, we'll show how we can get it when we really want to. But more on that later, we will follow in order. First of all, we have before us a poor abandoned boy, “in the backyard without boots,” as our venerable and respected fellow citizen put it earlier, alas, of foreign origin! I will repeat once again - I will not concede the defense of the defendant to anyone! I am an accuser and I am a defender.",0,0.494507,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 But,’ I laughingly went on, ‘you little hussy","Tuesday, March 28, 1944",0,0.49432397,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 “And indeed, she was fine: tall, slim, with black eyes like a hill chamois14 that cast a look straight into your soul. Pechorin, in his reverie, didn’t take his eyes off her, and she looked over at him from under her brow fairly often too. But it wasn’t only Pechorin who admired the winning princess: from the corner of the room two other eyes were looking at her, fixed and fiery. I looked over and recognized my old acquaintance Kazbich. He was, you understand, neither peaceable nor unpeaceable as it were. There were lots of suspicions about him, even though he wasn’t ever discovered making even one bit of mischief. Sometimes, he would bring sheep to us at the fortress, and he sold them cheaply —he never haggled. You would give what he asked—come what may, he wouldn’t bend. They say that he loves to roam along the Kuban River with the abreks,15 and to tell the truth, he had a thievish snout on him. He was small, spindly, wide-shouldered . . . And then his cunning—he was as cunning as a demon! His beshmet16 was always in tatters and patches, but his weapon was in silver. And his horse was famous in the whole Kabarde— you couldn’t even dream of a better horse. Not for nothing that all the horsemen envied him—and they tried to steal him more than once but never managed it. I can see that horse even now: black as jet, legs like bow-strings, and eyes no worse than Bela’s—and what strength! He’ll gallop at least 50 versts—and he’s well-trained too—runs like a dog after his master, and knows the man’s voice even! As a matter of fact, Kazbich would never tie him. Just the right horse for a bandit! ",They say that Kazbich never ties him up. What a perfect horse for a thief!,1,0.61462533,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 great growth in the trade of felt hats and clocks. And for once I was with the others against her, not being able to admit that there was a link between his school friend and the descendant of Geneviève de Brabant. the church has superb stained-glass windows, almost all of them modern, and this imposing Entry of Louis-Philippe at Combray which would be better placed in Combray itself, and which, it is said, is worth the famous glass roof of Chartres. (My grandmother, who by dint of being disinterested in people, ended up by confusing all the names, each time the name of the Duchesse de Guermantes was mentioned, she claimed that she must be a relative of Madame de Villeparisis. I would gladly believe that the primitive name was Rouville (Radulfi villa) like Châteauroux (Castrum Radulfi), but I will tell you about that another time.) Everyone was bursting with laughing; she tried to defend herself by alleging a certain letter to share: ""I seemed to remember that there was some Guermantes in there."" Well! (I am not sure of the etymology of Roussainville.","His speech is rapid and ornate; he is one of those people who, for every occasion in life, have ready-made pompous phrases, whom unadorned beauty does not move, and who solemnly drape themselves in extraordinary emotions, exalted passions, and exceptional sufferings. To produce an effect is rapture to them; romantic provincial ladies go crazy over them. With age they become either peaceful landowners, or drunkards; sometimes, both. Their souls often possess many good qualities, but not an ounce of poetry. Grushnitski’s passion was80 to declaim; he bombarded you with words as soon as the talk transcended the circle of everyday notions: I have never been able to argue with him.",0,0.49401882,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 “What facilitates my task most of all,” Afanasy Ivanovich began, “is that I am duty-bound to tell nothing other than the worst thing I’ve done in my whole life. In that case, naturally, there can be no hesitation: conscience and the heart’s memory straightaway prompt one with what must be told. I confess with bitterness that numbered among all the numberless, perhaps light-minded and … flighty deeds of my life, there is one the impression of which weighs all too heavily on my memory. It happened about twenty years ago. I had gone then to visit Platon Ordyntsev on his estate. He had just been elected marshale and had come there with his young wife for the winter holidays. Anfisa Alexeevna’s birthday also fell just then, and two balls were planned. At that time an enchanting novel by Dumas fils had just become terribly fashionable and made a great deal of noise in high society— La Dame aux camélias,41 a poem which, in my opinion, will never die or grow old. In the provinces all the ladies admired it to the point of rapture, those at least who had read it. The enchanting story, the originality with which the main character is portrayed, that enticing world, so subtly analyzed, and, finally, all those charming details scattered through the book (for instance, about the way bouquets of white and pink camellias are used in turn), in short, all those enchanting details, and everything together, produced almost a shock. The flowers of the camellia became extraordinarily fashionable. Everyone demanded camellias, everyone sought them. I ask you: can one get many camellias in the provinces, when everyone demands them for balls, even though the balls are few? Petya Vorkhovskoy, poor fellow, was then pining away for Anfisa Alexeevna. I really don’t know if there was anything between them, that is, I mean to say, whether he could have had any serious hopes. The poor man lost his mind over getting camellias for Anfisa Alexeevna by the evening of the ball. Countess Sotsky, from Petersburg, a guest of the governor’s wife, and Sofya Bespalov, as became known, were certain to come with bouquets of white ones. Anfisa Alexeevna, for the sake of some special effect, wanted red ones. Poor Platon nearly broke down; a husband, you know; he promised to get the bouquet, and—what then? It was snapped up the day before by Mytishchev, Katerina Alexandrovna, a fierce rival of Anfisa Alexeevna’s in everything. They were at daggers drawn. Naturally, there were hysterics, fainting fits. Platon was lost. It was clear that if Petya could, at this interesting moment, procure a bouquet somewhere, his affairs would improve greatly; a woman’s gratitude on such occasions knows no bounds. He rushes about like crazy; but it’s an impossible thing, no use talking about it. Suddenly I run into him at eleven in the evening, the night before the birthday and the ball, at Marya Petrovna Zubkov’s, a neighbor of the Ordyntsevs. He’s beaming. ‘ What’s with you?’ ‘I found it. Eureka!’ ‘Well, brother, you surprise me! Where? How?’ ‘In Ekshaisk’ (a little town there, only fifteen miles away, and not in our district), ‘there’s a merchant named Trepalov there, bearded and rich, lives with his old wife, and no children, just canaries. They both have a passion for flowers, and he’s got camellias.’ ‘Good heavens, there’s no certainty there, what if he doesn’t give you any?’ ‘I’ll kneel down and grovel at his feet until he does, otherwise I won’t leave!’ ‘When are you going?’ ‘Tomorrow at daybreak, five o’clock.’ ‘Well, God be with you!’ And I’m so glad for him, you know; I go back to Ordyntsev’s; finally, it’s past one in the morning and I’m still like this, you know, in a reverie. I was about to go to bed when a most original idea suddenly occurred to me! I immediately make my way to the kitchen, wake up the coachman Savely, give him fifteen roubles, ‘have the horses ready in half an hour!’ Half an hour later, naturally, the dogcart is at the gate; Anfisa Alexeevna, I’m told, has migraine, fever, and delirium—I get in and go. Before five o’clock I’m in Ekshaisk, at the inn; I wait till daybreak, but only till day-break ; just past six I’m at Trepalov’s. ‘ Thus and so, have you got any camellias? My dear, my heart and soul, help me, save me, I bow down at your feet!’ The old man, I see, is tall, gray-haired, stern—a fearsome old man. ‘ No, no, never! I won’t.’ I flop down at his feet! I sprawl there like that! ‘ What’s wrong, my dear man, what’s wrong?’ He even got frightened. ‘It’s a matter of a human life!’ Yes, take it, if so, with God. I shout to him. "" What a lot of red camellias I cut! Wonderful, lovely—he had a whole little hothouse there. The old man sighs. I take out a hundred roubles. ‘ No, my dear man, kindly do not offend me in this manner.’ ‘In that case, my esteemed sir,’ I say, ‘give the hundred roubles to the local hospital, for the improvement of conditions and food.’ ‘Now that, my dear man, is another matter,’ he says, ‘good, noble, and pleasing to God. I’ll give it for the sake of your health.’ And, you know, I liked him, this Russian old man, Russian to the root, so to speak, de la vraie souche.f Delighted with my success, I immediately set out on the way back; we made a detour to avoid meeting Petya. As soon as I arrived, I sent the bouquet in to Anfisa Alexeevna, who was just waking up. You can imagine the rapture, the gratitude, the tears of gratitude! Platon, yesterday’s crushed and dead Platon, sobs on my breast. Alas! All husbands have been like that since the creation … of lawful wedlock! I won’t venture to add anything, except that Petya’s affairs collapsed definitively after this episode. At first I thought he’d put a knife in me when he found out, I even prepared myself to face him, but what happened was something I wouldn’t even have believed: a fainting fit, delirium towards evening, fever the next morning; he cried like a baby, had convulsions. A month later, having only just recovered, he asked to be sent to the Caucasus: decidedly out of a novel! He ended up by being killed in the Crimea. At that time his brother, Stepan Vorkhovskoy, commanded the regiment, distinguished himself. I confess, even many years later I suffered from remorse : why, for what reason, had I given him this blow? It would be another thing if I myself had been in love then. But it was a simple prank, out of simple dalliance, and nothing more. And if I hadn’t snatched that bouquet from him, who knows, the man might be alive today, happy, successful, and it might never have entered his head to go and get himself shot at by the Turks.”","At least they’re not making any noise, only . . . only, I’m afraid for the landlady’s silver spoons! Amaliya Ivanovna!” she said almost audibly, suddenly turning in her direction, “if by any chance they pinch your spoons, I’m not responsible for them , I warn you in advance! Ha-ha-ha!” She roared with laughter. Turning back to Raskolnikov, she nodded again at the landlady and enjoyed her little attack.",0,0.4937747,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 60 Seal the container with this tag labeled ‘ For the Urgent Attention of Laozi.’ He’ll be slime in an hour and three-quarters.” Back on the mountaintop, pinned beneath three notable geographical features, Monkey was not ready to go quietly. He wailed so loudly that the Golden-Headed Guardian and the Protectors of the Five Directions, whom Guanyin had deputized to escort the pilgrimage, the god of the mountain, and the spirit of the soil held a conference about it. “Do you know who you’ve got trapped beneath these mountains?” Golden-Headed Guardian asked the local divinities. They shook their heads. “Monkey, formerly known as the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, who caused such a rumpus in Heaven five centuries ago. What on earth were you thinking of, lending that fiend those mountains to crush him? If Monkey ever escapes, you’re all dead meat.” The resident deities went ashen. “We had no idea. We were just following the Moving Mountain spell we heard.” “What’s done is done. You’ll just have to plead ignorance and hope he doesn’t puree you after we release him.” After a brief further discussion, the local spirits nervously approached and introduced themselves to Monkey. “What of it?” responded Monkey, not in the mood for small talk. “Permit us to remove the mountains from your head and shoulders and beg-your-pardon-for-the-inconvenience-none-intended.” “Go ahead. No hard feelings.” The relieved deities recited some spells and the mountains returned to their homes. Monkey instantly sprang up. Pausing only to hitch up his tiger-skin kilt, he whipped out his staff. “Show me your shanks! Two strokes each for favoring a monster over Monkey.” “But these mountain demons are just too powerful,” protested the spirits. “We have to be at their beck and call.” “Outrageous!” cried Monkey. “Even in my most outlandish moments I never ordered a local deity around.” (He omitted to mention here that he might have urinated on the hand of the Buddha.) Two shafts of light coming from a nearby valley suddenly distracted him. “What are you doing here?” “Finally, some fun!” exclaimed Monkey. “A question, quickly: who would be their favorite sort of visitor?” “They’re obsessed with elixirs—a Taoist, therefore.” “I’ll postpone your beating for another day. Monkey has other business for now.” The deities did not wait for him to change his mind. Monkey transformed himself into the very image of an old Taoist priest—patchwork robe, hair pulled up in two topknots—and reclined by the roadside, awaiting the imps. As they approached, he introduced himself by sticking out his golden-hooped staff for one of the goblins to trip over. “If my kings weren’t so fond of Taoists, I’d punch your lights out!” whined the imp, who had gone flying. Monkey smiled sweetly. “Oh, tripping people up when we first meet them is just a custom of my country.” “You can’t be from around here, then.” “Indeed not. I hail from Mount Penglai, the island of the immortals.” “Then you must be—an immortal!” The imp quickly swallowed his anger. “Pardon our ignorance.” “No offense taken.","“What’s that?” “Some goblins, I suspect, with the monsters’ treasures, here to capture you.”",1,0.615319,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 “To save you!” I went on, jumping up from my chair and running back and forth in front of her, “to save you from what! But maybe I'm worse than you are. Why didn't you fling it in my mug when I started reading you my oration: And you, what did you come here for? To teach us morals, or what?' Power, power, that's what I wanted then, the game was what I wanted, I wanted to achieve your tears, your humiliation, your hysterics – that's what I wanted then! But I couldn't stand it myself, because I'm trash, I got all scared and, like a fool, gave you my address, devil knows why. And afterwards, even before I got home, I was already cursing you up and down for that address. I already hated you, because I'd lied to you then. Because I only talk a good game, I only dream in my head, but do you know what I want in reality? That you all go to hell , that's what! I want peace. I'd sell the whole world for a kopeck this minute, just not to be bothered. Shall the world go to hell, or shall I not have my tea? I say let the world go to hell, but I should always have my tea. Did you know that or not? Well, and I do know that I'm a blackguard, a scoundrel, a self-lover, a lazybones. I spent these past three days trembling for fear you might come. And do you know what particularly bothered me all these three days? That I had presented myself to you as such a hero then, and now you'd suddenly see me in this torn old dressing gown, abject, vile. I just told you I was not ashamed of my poverty, know, then, that I am ashamed, I'm ashamed of it most of all, afraid of it more than anything, more than of being a thief, because I'm so vain it's as if I'd been flayed and the very air hurts me. But can you possibly not have realized even now that I will never forgive you for having found me in this wretched dressing gown, as I was hurling myself like a vicious little cur at Apollon? The resurrector, the former hero, flinging himself like a mangy, shaggy mutt at his lackey, who just laughs at him! And those tears a moment ago, which, like an ashamed woman, I couldn't hold back before you, I will never forgive you! Why do you still stand confronting me, after all this? Why are you worrying me? What more do you want? Yes—you must answer for it all because you turned up like this, because I am a blackguard, because I am the nastiest, stupidest, absurdest and most envious of all the worms on earth, who are not a bit better than I am, but, the devil knows why, are never put to confusion; while I shall always be insulted by every louse, that is my doom! Why, it’s not once in a lifetime a man speaks out like this, and then it is in hysterics! ... Do you understand? How I shall hate you now after saying this, for having been here and listening. And what is it to me that you don’t understand a word of this! And what do I care, what do I care about you, and whether you go to ruin there or not? And for what I am confessing to you now, I shall never forgive you either! ","Because it must be everything, that’s the first thing! Why is it we can never know everything about another person when we’re up against it, and it’s his fault! … There, I don’t know what I’m talking about, I’ve lost the thread. You surprise me no end… And does she still look now like she did when she ran out? Oh yes, it is my fault all right! The likelihood is that I’m to blame for everything! I’m still not quite clear as to what exactly of, but I am to blame… There’s something here I can’t explain to you, Yevgeny Pavlovich , I haven’t got the words, but Aglaya Ivanovna would understand!",0,0.49340862,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 Of course, Krasotkin could have occupied them more interestingly, that is, put both next to them and start playing soldiers with them or hide around the house. Of course, he looked at the accidental adventure with Katerina with the deepest contempt, but he loved the orphaned bubbles very much and had already taken them some kind of children's book. Kolya looked menacingly at the unfortunate dog, and he again froze in obedient stupor. But if something confused Kolya, it was only ""bubbles"". Nastya, the eldest girl, eight years old, could read, and the youngest bubble, a seven-year-old boy Kostya, loved to listen when Nastya reads to him. Kolya was not afraid to watch the house, besides, there was a Chime with him, who was ordered to lie prone in the hall under the bench ""without movements"" ingratiating blows with their tail on the floor, but alas, no inviting whistle was heard.","Kolya was not afraid of taking care of the house, besides he had Perezvon, who had been told to lie flat, without moving, under the bench in the hall. Every time Kolya, walking to and fro through the rooms, came into the hall, the dog shook his head and gave two loud and insinuating taps on the floor with his tail, but alas! the whistle did not sound to release him. Kolya looked sternly at the luckless dog, who relapsed again into obedient rigidity. The one thing that troubled Kolya was ""the kids."" He looked, of course, with the utmost scorn on Katerina's unexpected adventure, but he was very fond of the bereaved ""kiddies,"" and had already taken them a picture-book. Nastya, the elder, a girl of eight, could read, and Kostya, the boy, aged seven, was very fond of being read to by her. Krassotkin could, of course, have provided more diverting entertainment for them. He could have made them stand side by side and played soldiers with them, or sent them hiding all over the house.",1,0.61555016,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 “Huh!",Did you see her?,1,0.61555016,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 “This,” she said, “is the wife of your uncle, your mother’s elder brother; this is the wife of your uncle, her second brother; and this is your eldest sister-in-law Chu, the wife of your senior cousin Chu.” The bystanders too, at once, without one exception, melted into tears; and Tai-yue herself found some difficulty in restraining her sobs. Her ladyship thereupon pointed them out one by one to Tai-yue. Little by little the whole party succeeded in consoling her, and Tai-yue at length paid her obeisance to her grandmother.","When Fang Yu met, he was hugged by his grandmother long ago, and his heart was screaming and crying. The people who were standing in the underground at the moment all covered their faces and wept, and Daiyu couldn't stop crying. For a while, everyone slowly persuaded them to stop, and Dai Yufang visited her grandmother. This is the Taijun of the Shi clan, whom Leng Zixing talked about, and the mother of Jia She and Jia Zheng. Immediately, Mother Jia pointed to Daiyu one by one: ""This is your first aunt; this is your second aunt; this is your elder brother Xianzhu's daughter-in-law, sister-in-law Zhu. """,1,0.61555016,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 0 You only bet hard. "" When he comes back, I will tell him and see what happens to you.","Don’t let her know!’ Patience managed to get up just as Xi-feng was entering. ‘Quick!’ said Xi-feng. ‘Open up the chest and find that pattern for Her Ladyship!’ ‘Yes madam,’ said Patience. While Patience was looking for the pattern, Xi-feng caught sight of Jia Lian and suddenly thought of something else. ‘Have we got the things back from the outer study yet?’ ‘Yes,’ said Patience. ‘ Was there anything missing?’ ‘No,’ said Patience.",1,0.61555016,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 Swann was one of those men who, having lived for a long time amid the illusions of love, have seen the prosperity that they themselves brought to numberless women increase the happiness of those women without exciting in them any gratitude, any tenderness towards their benefactors; but in their child they believe that they can feel an affection which, being incarnate in their own name, will enable them to remain in the world after their death. When there should no longer be any Charles Swann, there would still be a Mlle. Swann, or a Mme. something–else, née Swann, who would continue to love the vanished father. Indeed, to love him too well, perhaps, Swann may have been thinking, for he acknowledged Gilberte's caress with a ""Good girl!"" in that tone, made tender by our apprehension, to which, when we think of the future, we are prompted by the too passionate affection of a creature who is destined to survive us. To conceal his emotion, he joined in our talk about Berma. He pointed out to me, but in a detached, bored tone, as if he wanted to somehow stay outside of what he was saying, with what intelligence, what unforeseen accuracy the actress said to Œnone: ""You knew it. ! He was right: that intonation at least, had a really intelligible value and could have thereby satisfied my desire to find irrefutable reasons to admire Berma. But it was by the very fact of its clarity that it did not at all content me. Her intonation was so ingenious, so definite in intention and in its meaning, that it seemed to exist by itself, so that any intelligent actress might have learned to use it. It was a fine idea; but whoever else should conceive it as fully must possess it equally. It remained to Berma's credit that she had discovered it, but is one entitled to use the word 'discover' when the object in question is something that would not be different if one had been given it, something that does not belong essentially to one's own nature seeing that some one else may afterwards reproduce it? "" Upon my soul, your presence among us does raise the tone of the conversation!""","He pointed out to me, but in a detached, a listless tone, as though he wished to remain to some extent unconcerned in what he was saying, with what intelligence, with what an astonishing fitness the actress said to Œnone, ""You knew it!"" He was right. That intonation at least had a value that was really intelligible, and might therefore have satisfied my desire to find incontestable reasons for admiring Berma.",1,0.61566573,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 he babbled. “Where are you going and what are you carrying?” “Beautiful lady!” The mere sight of her scrambled the lustful Pigsy’s brain.","You can sign up, I am better. "" The gods said: ""I am waiting for the six Dings and six Jias, the five-party Jieti, the four-value meritorious officers, and the eighteen guards Jialan. Everyone takes turns on duty.""",1,0.61647415,1
+"lexical = 80, order = 100 Some days after this visit of a “spirit” to Farmer Mabeuf, one morning,—it was on a Monday, the day when Marius borrowed the hundred-sou piece from Courfeyrac for Thénardier—Marius had put this coin in his pocket, and before carrying it to the clerk’s office, he had gone “to take a little stroll,” in the hope that this would make him work on his return. It was always thus, however. As soon as he rose in the morning, he sat down before a book and a sheet of paper to work upon some translation; the work he had on hand at that time was the translation into French of a celebrated quarrel between two Germans, the controversy between Gans and Savigny; he took Savigny, he took Gans, read four lines, tried to write one of them, could not, saw a star between his paper and his eyes, and rose from his chair, saying: “I will go out. That will put me in spirits.”","As soon as he rose, he seated himself before a book and a sheet of paper in order to scribble some translation; his task at that epoch consisted in turning into French a celebrated quarrel between Germans, the Gans and Savigny controversy; he took Savigny, he took Gans, read four lines, tried to write one, could not, saw a star between him and his paper, and rose from his chair, saying: “I shall go out.",1,0.61647415,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 20 On another occasion she said to him--""Until we have arranged everything we cannot possibly tell my aunt. ""Oh, if you knew how difficult things are!"" he said. She returned no answer, but sighed.",he said. Your heart was worth it! I will tell her everything.,1,0.6165896,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 She spied on the girl during the day, but never detected anything untoward. She certainly had a shadow like a normal living human. On the wedding day, they dressed her up in a bridal gown and prepared her for the ceremony, but then she was taken with one of her laughing fits and became quite incapable of standing or kneeling properly, so in the end the usual formalities had to be dispensed with. After the wedding, Wang, in view of his wife's complete naivety, was anxious that she might make some inappropriate reference to their private sexual relations. But she turned out to be particularly discreet in this regard, and never once said anything of the kind. Quite the contrary. She was in every way the very soul of discretion and sensitivity. If ever his mother was depressed or angry, all it needed was for Yingning to come and laugh, and the dark mood was at once dispelled. And if the maids were ever in any sort of trouble and feared a beating, they would ask Yingning to intercede on their behalf with the mistress and she always won them a free pardon. She was passionately fond of flowers, and was always seeking to obtain new varieties from friends and relations. She even secretly pawned her own jewellery in order to buy more flowers, and after a few months every little corner of the house, every terrace, every fence, every shed, even the privy, had its floral display. In the Wangs’ back garden there was a banksia rose that had strayed from their neighbours’ garden to the west, and was rambling all over a trellis. Yingning would often go there and climb the trellis to pick some of the fragrant blossoms for her hair. Mrs Wang reprimanded her for this, but she paid no heed. One day when she was up the trellis, the neighbour's son caught sight of her and was instantly smitten. He stared at her, and Yingning, with her usual directness, smiled back. He, thinking that she was leading him on, became more aroused than ever. Still with a broad smile on her face, Yingning pointed to a spot on his side of the wall, before climbing back down on to her own side. The young man was beside himself with joy at what he took to be an assignation, and returned to the same spot that very evening, to find her waiting for him. He lost no time, and began to make love to her at once, only to feel a fierce shooting pain in his member, as if a sharp awl were boring into it. The neighbor's father heard the sound and rushed to investigate, but he groaned without saying a word; when his wife came, he began to tell the truth, peeping with a fire and candle, and saw that there was a giant scorpion like a small crab. If you look closely at the non-woman, you will see a dead wood lying beside the wall, which is connected to the orifice of water. Yi Su Yang was a talented person, and Nim knew that he was a virtuous man. Negative son arrives home, looking for pawns in the middle of the night. He said that his neighbor was slandering him with a lawsuit, and he blamed him with a stick. Neighbors litigated students and scolded Yingning as strange. The mother said to her daughter: ""Han Kuang Er, I knew that I was overjoyed, but I was worried. Luckily for you the Magistrate is a wise man, and the case will go no further. But if it had been some fool of a judge, he would have had you arrested and questioned in court, and my poor son would never have been able to hold his head up in public again!’ Yingning looked at her seriously for a moment and swore that she would never laugh again. ‘There's nothing wrong with laughing,’ said Mrs Wang. ‘But it should be in the right place and at the right time.’ From that day forth, Yingning never laughed again. Even if someone tried to provoke her, she kept a straight face, though never an unpleasantly gloomy one.","He fell with a great cry to the ground, and then, when he strained his eyes, saw before him not a beautiful woman but a rotten old log propped up against the wall. He had been making love to a dank hole worn in the log by the dripping rain. The young man's father heard him scream and came hurrying to his aid, but in reply to his questions the youth could only groan. It was only when his wife came to his side that he told the truth. They lit a lamp and shone it at the log, discovering in the hole a huge scorpion, the size of a small crab. The father, having chopped open the log and killed the scorpion, carried his son into the house, but later that night the young man died. The family took young Wang to court, accusing his wife of sorcery. But the Magistrate, who had a high opinion of Wang and knew of his excellent reputation, dismissed the charge as false and would have had the dead youth's father caned had not Wang intervened on his behalf and procured his release. Wang's mother spoke to Yingning afterwards. ‘This time your silliness has really gone too far! I always knew there was something strange about your excessive cheerfulness, and that it would bring trouble and sorrow sooner or later.",1,0.6165896,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 Well, that is fine, my little angel, that’s fine! You have decided that it is not a complete disaster, my failure to get the money. Well, that’s fine, my mind is at rest, I am happy on your account. I am even glad that you are not going to abandon me, old man that I am, and that you will remain in your present apartment. In fact, to tell you the truth, my heart overflowed with joy when I read all the nice things you said about me in your letter and saw how you rendered my feelings the praise that was due. I say this not out of pride, but because I can see how you must love me, if you are so worried about my feelings. Well, that’s fine; what is there to be said about feelings, in any case? Feelings do as they will; but then, little mother, you also tell me not to be faint-hearted. Yes, my little angel, indeed, I am the first to admit that it is no good being faint-hearted; yet for all that, see for yourself, little mother, what manner of boots I must wear to the office tomorrow! There’s the rub, little mother; but I mean, a thought like that can crush a man, crush him totally. But the main thing, my darling, is that it is not myself I am grieving for, not myself for whose sake I am suffering; it is all the same to me, I’ll go around without an overcoat in the biting frost and manage without boots, I’ll suffer it and put up with it, I don’t mind; I’m an ordinary man, a little man – but what will people say? My enemies, all these evil tongues, what will they say if I go around with no overcoat on? After all, one wears an overcoat for the sake of other people, and the same is true of boots. I need boots, little mother, my darling, in order to maintain my honour and my good name; if my boots have holes in them, I can say goodbye to both the one and the other – believe me, little mother, and trust in my many years of experience; listen to me, an old man who knows the world and its inhabitants, listen to me, and not to scribblers and scrawlers.","Oh, really.",0,0.4920661,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 How do you say this?"" I feel pain when I think about it!","“No time for that,” Monkey interrupted. “Let’s get this creature out of the river.”",1,0.61693585,1
+"lexical = 100, order = 100 I'm a kind of playing card, old and unknown, the only one left in the lost deck. I have no meaning , I don't know my worth, I don't have anything to compare me to so that you can find me , I don't have anything to use for you to get to know me. And so, in successive images in which I describe myself — not without truth, but with lies — I remain more in the images than in myself, telling myself until I am not, writing with my soul like ink, useful for nothing more than to write with her. But the reaction ceases, and I resign myself again. I return in myself to what I am, even if it is nothing. And something of tears without tears burns in my stiff eyes, something of anguish that hasn't been there blisters my dry throat roughly. But then, I don't even know what I would have cried, if I had cried, or why I didn't cry. Fiction accompanies me, like my shadow. And what I want is to sleep. ",And what I want is sleep.,1,0.6173973,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 And I not able to do anything!","“Take it,” said Milady, putting a pouch full of gold into Felton’s hand.",0,0.4913949,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 Her condition appalled me. I spoke to the Superior about it, for I wanted her to be moved into the infirmary and to be excused from chapel and the other irksome domestic duties. Also I wanted a doctor to be sent for, but the reply always was that it was nothing, that these attacks would pass off of their own accord, and that dear Sister Ursule was only too anxious to fulfil her obligations and follow the normal routine. One day, after Matins, which she had attended, she failed to reappear. I thought she must be very ill, and as soon as the morning services were over I rushed to her room and found her lying on her bed fully dressed. She said: ‘Oh, there you are, dear friend, I felt sure you would not be long and I was expecting you. Listen. I couldn’t wait for you to come! Here, this is the key to my oratory; go and open the cupboard, lift up the little plank of wood that divides the bottom drawer in two, and behind it you’ll find a bundle of papers; I could never bring myself to part with them, no matter how dangerous it was to keep them and how painful it was to read them: Alas! I was so very feeble for so long that I thought I wouldn’t recover and that I’d never see you again. Alas, they are almost blotted out by my tears. When I am no more you must burn them.’","How impatient I was for you to come! My attack was so bad and lasted so long that I thought I should never recover and should never see you again. Look, here is the key of my oratory; open the cupboard and remove a little partition which divides the lower drawer into two. Behind this partition you will find a bundle of papers that I have never been able to make up my mind to part with, though it was dangerous to keep them and upsetting to read them.",1,0.617628,1
+"lexical = 100, order = 100 The mother screamed with her chicks, drove the orphans out of the house, and not only out of malice, but sometimes a person himself does not know by what impulse he stands his ground. Well, they helped at first, and then went to get hired. Yes, but what kind of earnings do we have, besides the factories; there he will wash the floors, there he will fly out in the garden, there he will heat a bathhouse, and with a baby in his arms he will howl; and four others are running down the street in shirts. When she put them on their knees at the porch, they were still in slippers, whatever they were, but in cloaks, everything was as it was, but merchant children; and then the barefoot ones went running: the child’s clothes are on fire, you know. Well, what about the children: there would be sunshine , they rejoice, they don’t feel death, like birds, their voices are like bells. The widow thinks: “Winter will come, and where will I put you then; if only God had taken you by that time!” Just don't wait until winter. In our place there is such a cough for children, whooping cough, which passes from one to another. First of all, the baby girl died, and the others fell ill after her, and all four girls, in the same autumn, were demolished one by one. One, however, was crushed by horses in the street. So what do you think? She buried her and howled; then she cursed, but when God took it away, it became a pity. Mother's heart!",What do you think?,1,0.6178585,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 But in the second half of the speech, it was as if he suddenly changed his tone and even his reception, and at once rose to the level of pathetic, and the audience seemed to be waiting for it and all trembled with delight. He straightforwardly approached the matter and began with the fact that although his career was in St. Petersburg, it was not the first time he visited the cities of Russia to defend the defendants, but those in whose innocence he was either convinced or had a presentiment of it in advance.","- Worms ! “ Yes, sir, and on which I hope you will be good enough to tell me your opinion. – Do you like the truth? -",0,0.49084577,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 20 It is because, from his very nature, the poor man has to wear his feelings on his sleeve, so that nothing about him is sacred, and as for his self-respect—! And why is this? —let scribblers say what they choose about him—he will ever remain as he was. Yes, write about him as you like","yet during the next moment or two one would feel inclined to say nothing at all, and, during the third moment, only to say, “The devil alone knows what he is!” And should, thereafter, one not hasten to depart, one would inevitably become overpowered with the deadly sense of ennui which comes of the intuition that nothing in the least interesting is to be looked for, but only a series of wearisome utterances of the kind which are apt to fall from the lips of a man whose hobby has once been touched upon. For every man HAS his hobby. One man’s may be sporting dogs; another man’s may be that of believing himself to be a lover of music, and able to sound the art to its inmost depths; another’s may be that of posing as a connoisseur of recherche cookery; another’s may be that of aspiring to play roles of a kind higher than nature has assigned him; another ’s ( though this is a more limited ambition) may be that of getting drunk, and of dreaming that he is edifying both his friends, his acquaintances, and people with whom he has no connection at all by walking arm-in-arm with an Imperial aide-de-camp; another’s may be that of possessing a hand able to chip corners off aces and deuces of diamonds; another’s may be that of yearning to set things straight—in other words, to approximate his personality to that of a stationmaster or a director of posts. In short, almost every man has his hobby or his leaning; yet Manilov had none such, for at home he spoke little, and spent the greater part of his time in meditation—though God only knows what that meditation comprised! Nor can it be said that he took much interest in the management of his estate, for he never rode into the country, and the estate practically managed itself.",0,0.49084577,0
+"lexical = 100, order = 100 What was she to do?",Even my self-conceit--upon what was it flung away?,1,0.61831963,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 She wanted him to like her not only for her speeches but for her entire person. Analyzing her feelings and comparing them with those before, she clearly saw that she would not have been in love with Komisarov had he not saved the sovereign’s life and would not have been in love with Ristić-Kudzhitsky had it not been for the Slavic question, but that she loved Karenin for himself, for his lofty, misunderstood soul, for the reedy sound of his voice, which she found so sweet, with its drawn out intonations, for his weary look, for his character and his soft white hands with the swollen veins.26 Not only did she rejoice at their meeting All these loves, waning and waxing, had not gotten in the way of the most extensive and complex relations at court and in society. She caught herself daydreaming about what might have been had she not been married For him she now took greater care with her attire than ever before. , she sought in his face signs of the impression she was making on him. The feeling she now experienced for him seemed to her stronger than all her former feelings. Ever since misfortune had befallen Karenin and she had taken him under her special protection, ever since she had labored in Karenin’s household, looking after his well-being, she had felt that all her other loves had not been genuine and that now she was truly in love with Karenin alone.","All these loves, sometimes weakening, then increasing, did not interfere with her in the conduct of the most widespread and complex court and secular relations. But since she, after the misfortune that befell Karenin, took him under her special protection, since she labored in Karenin's house, taking care of his welfare, she felt that all the other loves were not real, but that she was truly in love. now into one Karenin. The feeling she now felt for him seemed to her stronger than all her previous feelings. Analyzing her feelings and comparing it with the previous ones, she clearly saw that she would not have been in love with Komisarov, if he had not saved the life of the sovereign, would not have been in love with Ristic-Kudzhitsky [170], if there had not been a Slavic question, but what She loved Karenin for himself, for his lofty, incomprehensible soul, for her sweet, delicate sound of his voice with his drawn-out intonations, for his tired look, for his character and soft white hands with swollen veins. She not only rejoiced at meeting him, but she looked on his face for signs of the impression she made on him. She wanted to please him not only with her speeches, but with her whole personality. For him she was now more concerned with her dressing than ever before. She found herself dreaming of what would have happened if she had not been married",1,0.61831963,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 Her grandfather must do his duty.’","The child shall not hinder me from accepting it, I tell you that!""",1,0.61855006,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 ""You sillies!",“So what shall it be? Unused or used?,0,0.49029663,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 Of course, the officials did not believe this, but, however, they became thoughtful and, considering this matter, each to himself, found that Chichikov’s face, if he turns and becomes sideways, is very handy for a portrait of Napoleon. The police chief, who served in the campaign of the twelfth year and personally saw Napoleon, also could not help confessing that he would in no way be taller than Chichikov, and that Napoleon, too, could not be said to be too fat, but not so thin either. Perhaps some readers will call all this incredible; the author, too, to please them, would be ready to call all this incredible; but, unfortunately, everything happened exactly as it is told, and all the more amazing that the city was not in the wilderness, but, on the contrary, not far from both capitals. However, it must be remembered that all this took place shortly after the glorious expulsion of the French. or “Did you avail yourself of yesterday’s snowfall?” At that time all our landowners, officials, merchants, shop clerks, literate and even illiterate folk of every sort became sworn politicians for a good eight years at least. Instead of such questions as: “Well, my dear, how much did you get for a measure of oats?” The Moscow Gazette and the Son of the Fatherland were mercilessly read to pieces and reached their last reader in shreds unfit for any use whatsoever. - they said: “And what do they write in the newspapers, have they let Napoleon out of the island again?” The merchants were greatly afraid of this, for they completely believed the prediction of one prophet, who had been sitting in prison for three years already; the prophet came from nowhere in bast shoes and an unsheathed sheepskin coat, terribly reeking of rotten fish, and announced that Napoleon was the Antichrist and kept on a stone chain, behind six walls and seven seas, but after that he would break the chain and take possession of the whole world. The prophet, for the prediction, got, as it should be, into prison, but nevertheless he did his job and completely embarrassed the merchants. For a long time, during even the most profitable transactions, the merchants, going to the tavern to drink tea, talked about the Antichrist. Many of the officials and the noble nobility also involuntarily thought about this and, infected with mysticism, which, as you know, was then in great fashion, saw in each letter from which the word ""Napoleon"" was composed, some special meaning; many even discovered apocalyptic figures in it.[29] So, there is nothing surprising that the officials involuntarily thought about this point; soon, however, they caught on, noticing that their imagination was already too trotting and that all this was not right. They thought, thought, explained and explained, and finally decided that it would not be a bad thing to ask Nozdryov a good deal more. Since he was the first to bring up the story of dead souls and was, as they say, in some kind of close relationship with Chichikov, therefore, without a doubt, he knows some of the circumstances of his life, then try what Nozdryov says.","said Martin; that is how these folk are. Imagine all the contradictions, all the incompatibilities you can, and you will see them in the government, the courts, the churches, and the plays of this crazy nation.",0,0.4902356,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 “We’ve won, Ophelia,” I said.",I would like to see them all shot.,0,0.49015936,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 “He entered, shut the door, looked at me without saying a word and went softly over into the corner where there’s a table almost directly beneath the icon. I was rather surprised and waited to see what would happen next. Rogozhin put his elbows on the table and began to stare at me. This went on for about two or three minutes, and I recall his silence offended me and made me feel uncomfortable. Why doesn’t he want to speak, I wondered? In the morning we had parted somewhat hostilely, and I even remember him glancing at me very mockingly a couple of times. The fact that he had come so late seemed strange to me, of course, yet I remember that I was not so greatly astonished by that in itself. that, apropos of it, of course, one might come for another talk, even though it was very late. That mockery, which I could now read in his glance, was what offended me. And so I thought he had come for that. Even the opposite: though I had not spoken my thought out clearly to him in the morning, I know he had understood it; and that thought was of such kind That it actually was Rogozhin himself, and not a vision, not delirium, I at first did not doubt in the least. It didn’t even enter my mind.","Or as a blind? No, that would be too cunning! Besides, Pestriakov, the student, was seen at the gate by both the porters and a woman as he went in. He was walking with three friends, who left him only at the gate, and he asked the porters to direct him, in the presence of his friends.",0,0.4901136,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 60 take this, honest people. These theoreticians, people of intelligence moreover, have a very simple process, they apply to the past a coating which they call social order, divine right, morality, family, respect for ancestors, ancient authority, holy tradition, legitimacy, religion; and they go crying: ―Look! To dream of the indefinite prolongation of defunct things and the government of men by embalming, to restore dogmas in poor condition, to regild the shrines, to replaster the cloisters, to re-bless the reliquaries, to refurnish the superstitions, to supply the fanaticisms, to mend the sprinklers and the sabers, to reconstitute monasticism and militarism, believing in the salvation of society through the multiplication of parasites, imposing the past on the present, that seems strange. However, there are theoreticians for these theories. They rubbed a black heifer with chalk, and said: She is white. Bos cretatus. The haruspices practiced it. — This logic was known to the ancients.","You expect me to admire a writer who has spoiled Tasso’s hell and devil; who transforms Lucifer, sometimes into a toad, and at other times into a pigmy; who makes him say the same thing a hundred times over; who makes him argue theology : and who, by an absurdly serious imitation of Ariosto’s comic invention of fire-arms, has the devils firing cannon in heaven!",0,0.48999158,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 July 6th.",MAKAR DYEVUSHKIN.,1,0.61901075,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 20 Zhou Rui’s wife now made her way towards Grandmother Jia’s apartments. Just as she was coming out of the covered passage-way, she ran head-on into her daughter, all dressed up in her best clothes having just arrived on a visit from her mother-in-law’s. ‘What’s suddenly brought you here at a time like this?’ she asked her daughter. ‘How have you been keeping, Mother? I’ve been waiting at your place for hours for you to come back. What’s been keeping you all this time ? I got tired of waiting. I thought I’d go and say “hello” to Her Old Ladyship, and now I was just on my way to see Her Ladyship. You came here now, there must be something It's a matter of course."" I haven't sent my innocence yet. Grandma Liu, I was busy with myself and ran for him for a long time; I was seen by my concubine again and asked to send this flower and the girls and grandmothers. His daughter smiled and said, ""You old man can guess. I'm here today. Zhou Rui's family smiled: ""Ah! What errands are there for Mom, what are you holding?"" I’ll be honest with you. My man had a cup too much to drink the other day and got into a fight with someone, and now, out of spite, they are trying to stir up trouble for him. They say his papers aren’t in order, and they’ve reported him to the yamen and want to get him deported back South to his old village. So I thought I’d come and ask your advice, Mother, and see if you couldn’t get someone here to put in a word for him. Do you think there’s anyone who would be able to help?’ ‘I knew it would be something like this,’ said Zhou Rui’s wife. ‘ Well, cheer up, it’s not so serious as all that! You just go back and wait while I take these flowers to Miss Lin. You can’t see Her Ladyship now. She and the young mistress are both busy.’ The daughter obediently turned back to her mother’s quarters. As she went, she said pleadingly, ‘Be as quick as you can, Mother, won’t you?’ ‘Yes, yes, yes. I’ll be as quick as I can! You young people take everything so tragically 1 Lack of experience, that’s what it is!’","But she was so sweet and gentle, and she bent her little head so gracefully, letting her fair hair fall against her rosy cheek, that he was flooded with infinite pleasure—an enjoyment that was mixed with bitterness, like an inferior wine tasting of resin. He mended her toys, made puppets for her out of cardboard, sewed up the torn stomachs of her dolls.",0,0.48901546,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 ‘That’s simply not the point,’ the lame teacher finally put in his oar. In general, he spoke with the kind of smile that seemed almost mocking, so that it was perhaps difficult to determine whether he was speaking sincerely or was joking. ‘ That’s simply not the point here, ladies and gentlemen. Mr Shigalyov is very seriously devoted to his task and besides he is very modest. One tenth receives the freedom of the individual and an unlimited right over the other nine tenths. I know his book. He proposes, in the form of a final solution to the question, the division of mankind into two unequal parts. The latter are to lose their individuality and turn into something like cattle, and with this unlimited obedience attain, through a series of regenerations, a primordial innocence, something like the primordial paradise, although they will have to work. The measures proposed by the author for depriving nine-tenths of mankind of their will and refashioning them into a herd by means of the re-education of entire generations are most remarkable, based on the data of nature, and very logical. One may not agree with certain conclusions, but it is difficult to doubt the author’s intelligence and knowledge. It’s a pity that his condition of ten evenings is completely incompatible with the circumstances, otherwise we could have heard many interesting things.’","His book is familiar to me. He proposes, as a final solution to the question, the division of mankind into two unequal parts. One-tenth is to receive personal freedom and unlimited rights over the remaining nine-tenths.6",1,0.6203916,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 —",Baroque is such an abyss that you don’t understand where all this could fit.,0,0.48785642,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 At about four in the afternoon the terrain, generally composed of thick mud mixed with mineralized branches, began to change: it became rockier and seemed strewn with conglomerates and basaltic tuffs, with a few sprinklings of lava and sulphurous obsidian. I thought that a mountain region would soon interrupt the broad plains and, indeed, during some of the Nautilus’s manoeuvres, I caught a glimpse of the southern horizon blocked by a high wall apparently closing the way out. Its top part was clearly above water level. This had to be a large landmass or at the very least an island, perhaps one of the islands of the Canaries or Cape Verde. The point having not been made - on purpose perhaps - I did not know our position. * But in any case such a wall seemed to mark the end of Atlantis, of which we had actually only covered a tiny part.",Since the position had not been taken — on purpose perhaps — I did not know where we were.,1,0.62108135,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 “Done! Let’s hear, please, how he will prove it!” “He is always humbugging, confound him,” cried Razumikhin, jumping up and gesticulating. “What’s the use of talking to you! He does all that on purpose; you don’t know him, Rodion! He took their side yesterday, simply to make fools of them. And the things he said yesterday! And they were delighted! He can keep it up for a fortnight together. Last year he persuaded us that he was going into a monastery: he stuck to it for two months. Not long ago he took it into his head to declare he was going to get married, that he had everything ready for the wedding. He’d even acquired new clothes for the occasion. We all began to congratulate him. There was no bride, nothing, all pure fantasy!”",He ordered new clothes indeed.,1,0.6217706,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 40 If I fail to obtain an article by friendly means, that cannot be helped.” You may rest assured of that.","Though, to tell the truth, they were all good-natured people, got on well together, and behaved in a friendly way to each other, and indeed, there was a peculiar note of kindliness and good humour in their conversation: “My dear friend, Ilya Ilyitch!” ... I say, Antipator Zaharye vitch, old man!“ . . . ” You are drawing the long bow, Ivan Grigoryevitch, my precious. “ ...",0,0.48706344,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 ‘You are not Amali-Ivan, you are Amalia Ludwigovna, and as I am not one of your creeping toadies like Mr Lebeziatnikov, who is giggling out there behind the door’ (and indeed laughter could be heard outside, and a cry of ‘They’re at it again!’), ‘I shall always call you Amalia Ludwigovna, and I have not the faintest idea why you have taken against that name. You can see for yourself what has happened to Semion Zakharovich—he is dying. Would you please lock that door at once and let no one in. Let him at least die in peace! The prince knew me when I was young and unmarried, and he remembers Semyon Zakharovich very well, to whom he showed his favor many times. Otherwise, I can assure you, your action will be made known to the governor-general himself. Everyone knows that Semion Zakharovich had a great many friends and patrons, whom he himself gave up from a sense of honourable pride, being aware of his unfortunate weakness; but now’ (pointing at Raskolnikov) ‘we are being assisted by this generous-hearted young man of wealth and influence, whom Semion Zakharovich has known since his childhood. And you may be assured, Amalia Ludwigovna…’","Otherwise I can assure you that your behaviour will be made known tomorrow to the Governor General. The Prince knew me before I was married, and remembers Semion Zakharovich very well; he helped him on many occasions.",1,0.6222298,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 if one wishes ... Plenty of young people who did not care for each other before marriage have adored each other since! For instance, I am the greatest ventriloquist that ever lived, I am the first ventriloquistin the world! ... One can get used to everything ... but no matter, you will! ... No, you don’t love me ... And now you don’t mind looking at it and you forget what is behind! ... Oh, I don’t know what I am talking about! But you would have lots of fun with me. Once, you could not look at my mask because you knew what was behind ...","No, of course, you don’t love me! But no matter: you will! At first, you couldn’t look at my mask because you knew what it concealed. And now you don’t mind looking at it and have forgotten what’s behind! You don’t push me away any longer. One can become used to anything: when there’s a will … Plenty of people who marry without love, later come to adore each other. Oh, I’m deceiving myself! But you would have lots of fun with me. I’m unique, I swear! I swear to the God who will bless our marriage – when you come to your senses. I’m unique. For instance, I’m the greatest ventriloquist that ever lived!",1,0.62245935,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 0 For he had opened Lieutenant Lukash's box and was gobbling up his last roll. ","A corporal with a bulky mustache, leaning out, leaning his elbows against the team, which was swinging out of the car with his legs outstretched, gave tact and shouted for the whole round:",1,0.6226888,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 Next day the old man came to see his son, spent about an hour with him as usual, then came in to us and sat down beside me with a very comical mysterious air. Rubbing his hands in proud delight at being in possession of a secret, he began with a smile by telling me that all the books had been conveyed here unnoticed and were standing in a corner in the kitchen under Matrona’s protection. Then the conversation naturally passed to the day we were looking forward to; the old man talked at length of how we would give our present, and the more absorbed he became in the subject the more apparent it was to me that he had something in his heart of which he could not, dared not, speak, which, in fact, he was afraid to put into words. I waited and said nothing. The secret joy, the secret satisfaction which I had readily discerned at first in his strange gestures and grimaces and the winking of his left eye, disappeared. Every moment he grew more uneasy and disconsolate; at last he could not contain himself.","The further he delved into his thesis, and the more he expounded it, the clearer could I see that on his mind there was something which he could not, dared not, divulge.",1,0.62291825,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 On this very evening—Gregor could not remember having heard the violin all this time—the sound of the violin came from the kitchen. The boarders had already finished their supper, the middle one had taken out a newspaper and distributed a sheet each to the two others, and they were now leaning back, reading and smoking. When the violin began playing they all looked up, got to their feet, and tiptoed to the foyer door, where they huddled together. They must have been audible from the kitchen, because the father called out ‘Perhaps the gentlemen don’t like the playing? It can be stopped at once.” “On the contrary,” said the middle gentleman, “wouldn’t the young lady care to come in here with us and play where it is more spacious and comfortable?” “Oh, certainly,” cried the father, as though he were the violinist. The boarders retreated to the room and waited. Soon the father entered with the music stand, the mother with the music, and the sister with the violin. The sister calmly prepared everything to start playing; the parents, who had never before let a room and were consequently excessively polite to the boarders, did not dare to sit in their own chairs; the father leaned against the door with his right hand tucked between two buttons of his fastened uniform jacket; the mother, however, was offered a chair by one of the gentlemen and sat down where he had chanced to put it, off in a corner.","As they were leaving Henriette kissed Maurice tenderly. Then she put out her hand to Jean and held his in her own for a few seconds, in a friendly grip.",0,0.4859656,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 Yet all these people - though, of course, they were ‘friends of the family’ and of one another - were, however, far from being such friends either of the family or of one another as the prince took them to be when he had just been presented and introduced to them. Here there were people who would never and on no account acknowledge the Yepanchins as in any way their equals. Here there were even people who hated one another; old Belokonskaya had all her life ‘despised’ the wife of ‘the little old dignitary’, and she, in her turn, was far from being fond of Lizaveta Prokofyevna. This ‘dignitary’, her husband, had for some reason been a patron of the Yepanchins since their youth, and took the presiding place here, too , was such an immensely important person in Ivan Fyodorovich’s eyes that he could feel nothing but reverence and awe in his presence, and would even have sincerely despised himself had he for one moment considered him his equal, and not Olympian Jove. There were people here who had not met one another for several years and felt for one another nothing but indifference, if not repugnance, but who met now as though they had seen one another only the day before in the most friendly and pleasant company. However, the gathering was a small one. Apart from Belokonskaya and the ‘little old dignitary’, really an important person, and apart from his spouse, there was here, in the first place, a certain very solid military general, a baron or count, with a German name - a man of extreme taciturnity, with a reputation for an amazing knowledge of government matters and even almost a reputation for scholarship - one of those Olympian administrators who know everything ‘except perhaps Russia itself’, a man who once in five years made a statement ‘remarkable for its profundity’, but of the kind, however, that at once become proverbs and are learned of in the most exalted circles; one of those high officials who, after exceedingly long service (even to the point of eccentricity), usually die covered with rank and honours, in the best positions, and with large sums of money, though without large achievements and even with a certain hostility to achievements. This general was Ivan Fyodorovich’s immediate superior in the service, and was also regarded by him, because of the ardency of his grateful heart, and even because of a certain vanity, as his benefactor, though the general in no way considered himself Ivan Fyodorovich’s benefactor, and took a perfectly unconcerned attitude towards him, though gladly availed himself of his numerous and varied merits, and would have lost no time in replacing him with another official, had this been required by any considerations, even those that were not exalted at all. Here there was also a certain important, middle-aged barin, apparently even a relative of Lizaveta Prokofyevna, though this was decidedly untrue; a man of good rank and calling, a man of wealth and breeding, solidly built and in very good health, a great talker and even possessing the reputation of a man of discontent (though in the most permissible sense of the word), a man of spleen (though in him even this was pleasant), with the ways of an English aristocrat and English tastes (regarding, for example, rare roast beef, horse harness, lackeys, etcetera). He was a great friend of the ‘dignitary’, kept him entertained, and moreover, Lizaveta Prokofyevna for some reason cherished a certain strange notion that this middle-aged gentleman (a man somewhat frivolous and to some extent an admirer of the fair sex) would suddenly take it into his head to make Alexandra happy by his proposal. This highest and most solid stratum of the gathering was followed by a stratum of younger guests, though they also shone with most exquisite qualities. In addition to Prince Shch. and Yevgeny Pavlovich, this stratum also comprised the well-known and charming Prince N., a former seducer and conqueror of female hearts throughout the whole of Europe, now a man of about forty-five, still of handsome appearance, with a wonderful ability as a raconteur, a man with a fortune that was, however, in some disarray, and who, from habit, lived mostly abroad. Here, lastly, there were people who apparently constituted even a third distinct stratum and who did not of themselves belong to the ‘secret circle’ of the company, but who, like the Yepanchins, could for some reason occasionally be encountered in that ‘secret’ circle. Because of a certain tact, which they adopted as a principle, on the rare occasions when they held formal gatherings, the Yepanchins liked to mix the most exalted company with people of a lower stratum, chosen representatives of ‘the middle sort of people’. The Yepanchins were even praised for this and it was said of them that they knew their place and were people of tact, and the Yepanchins were proud of this opinion of themselves. One of the representatives of this ‘middle sort of people’ that evening was a certain colonel of the engineers, a serious man, very close friend of Prince Shch., who had introduced him to the Yepanchins, a man, however, silent in company and who wore on the large index finger of his right hand a large and conspicuous ring, which had in all probability been awarded to him. There was even, lastly, a literary man and poet, of German origin, but a Russian poet, and, moreover, completely decent, so that he could without misgivings be introduced into good society. He was of fortunate, though for some reason slightly repulsive, appearance, about thirty-eight, always impeccably dressed, belonged to a German family, bourgeois to the highest degree, but in the highest degree respectable; knew how to take advantage of various opportunities, nudge his way into the patronage of exalted people and remain in their good books. Once upon a time he had translated some important work by some important German poet, had known how to dedicate his translation in verse, had been able to boast of his friendship with a certain famous but dead Russian poet (there is an entire stratum of writers who are exceedingly fond of attaching themselves in print to the friendship of great but dead writers) and had been introduced to the Yepanchins very recently by the wife of the ‘little old dignitary’. This lady had the reputation of being a patroness of literary men scholars and she actually even obtained a pension for one or two authors through the mediation of highly placed persons with whom she had influence. For influence of a kind she did possess. She was a lady of about forty-five (thus a very young wife for such a little old man as her husband), a former beauty, who liked even now, because of a mania typical of many ladies of forty-five, to dress rather too extravagantly; she was of inconsiderable intellect, and her knowledge of literature was most dubious. But in her, the patronage of literary men was just as much of a mania as dressing extravagantly. Many works and translations had been dedicated to her; two or three writers, with her permission, had published their own letters, which they had written to her on extremely important subjects ... And it was all this company that the prince took for the very purest coinage, the purest gold, unalloyed. Alas, however, the Prince did not even suspect such subtleties. After Prince Lev Nikolayevich had listened to Prince N.’s story, he later had to own that he had never before heard anything the like. The brilliant humour, the extraordinary jollity and ingenuousness, coming from the lips of such a Don Juan as Prince N., had something touching about it and swept the Prince off his feet. It must be said that on that evening they all were as though by prior arrangement in the best of moods and were well pleased with themselves. Prince N., this amiable, undeniably witty, exceedingly good-natured man, was absolutely convinced that he was the knight in shining armour, who had graced the Yepanchins’ drawing room with his presence that night. Every single one of them knew that by turning up at the Yepanchins, they were doing them an immense honour. He looked down upon them with infinite condescension, and it was precisely this simple-hearted, disarmingly vainglorious attitude which caused him to be so easygoing and affable towards them. For instance, he did not suspect that the Yepanchins, having such an important mission as the marriage of their daughter in mind, could possibly have failed to introduce him, Lev Nikolayevich, to the aged dignitary, the acknowledged patron of their family. He knew full well that he had to recount something that evening to charm the assembled company, and he was raring to live up to this challenge. As for the dignitary himself, he would quite readily have ignored any calamity that might have befallen the Yepanchins, but would most assuredly have taken offence had they promised to give away their daughter without seeking his advice and, as it were, approval. And yet, had he known how old and threadbare that same story was; how it was known off by heart and how it had already been done to death and had bored everyone in every drawing room, only at the innocent Yepanchins’ making its appearance again as a novelty, as the sudden, sincere and brilliant recollection of a brilliant and handsome man! Even, at last, the minor German poet, though he had conducted himself with uncommon courtesy and modesty, he too almost considered himself to be doing this house an honour by his visit. But the prince did not notice the reverse side of it all, did not observe any undercurrent. This was a form of trouble Aglaya had not foreseen. She looked extremely pretty that evening. All three young ladies were smartly dressed that evening, though not very extravagantly, and their hair was even done up in a special way. Aglaya sat with Yevgeny Pavlovich, conversing and joking with him in an uncommonly friendly manner. Yevgeny Pavlovich was conducting himself a little more solidly and respectably than at other times, also, perhaps, out of regard for the dignitaries. He had, as a matter of fact, long been well known in society; though a young man, he was already at home there. That evening he arrived at the Yepanchins’ with a crêpe band round his hat, and Belokonskaya had praised him for it: in similar circumstances, perhaps not every worldly nephew might have worn a crêpe band for such an uncle. Lizaveta Prokofyevna was also pleased with this, but on the whole she seemed rather worried. The prince noticed that Aglaya looked at him attentively a couple of times and, it appeared, was pleased with him. Little by little he was becoming terribly happy. His earlier ‘fantastic’ thoughts and misgivings (after his conversation with Lebedev) now seemed to him, in sudden, but frequent recollections, an unrealizable, impossible and even ridiculous dream! (And in any case, his first, though unconscious, desire and inclination, earlier and throughout the whole day had been somehow to contrive it so that he could not believe in that dream!) He spoke little, and then only in response to questions, and, at last, fell altogether silent, sat and listened, though plainly drowning in gratification. Little by little, there began to take shape within him, too, something akin to inspiration, ready to flare up at the first opportunity ... When he began to talk, it was entirely by chance, also in response to a question and, it seemed, also without any special intention atall...","Swaying rhythmically to the amble of his good little mount, taking in the warm, fresh smell of snow and air as he passed through the woods over the remains of the crumbly snow that lingered here and there in patches, leaving melting tracks , he rejoiced at each of his trees, the moss that had come to life on the bark, and the swollen buds. When he rode out beyond the woods, spread out before him, over an enormous expanse, was an even, velvety carpet of green, without a single bald patch or puddle, only in a few places were there spots of melting snow in the dips. He was not angered by the sight of a peasant horse and foal trampling his young shoots (he told the peasant he met to drive them off) or by the derisive and foolish reply of the peasant Ipat, whom he met and asked: “What about it, Ipat, sowing soon?”",0,0.4858436,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 20 When she came back, waving her handbag slightly, she said, 'I just want to say a few words to you on behalf of my friend. She wanted to come herself, but she's feeling a little uncomfortable today. But Miss Montag got up right away, because she had left her handbag on the windowsill and went to fetch it; she dragged across the room. ""But I don't think you care much about the pension,"" said Fraulein Montag. ""Wouldn't you like to sit down?"" said Fraulein Montag. ""Certainly,"" he said, ""you've been staying with Frau Grubach for a long time."" "" No,"" said K. They both silently pulled out two chairs at the far end of the table and sat down opposite each other. K. looked at her with narrowed eyes.""","K. looked at her with a frown. “Of course I do,” he said, “you've been living here with Mrs. Grubach for quite some time now.” “But I get the impression you don't pay much attention to what's going on in the lodging house,” said Miss Montag. “No,” said K. “Would you not like to sit down?” said Miss Montag. In silence, the two of them drew chairs out from the farthest end of the table and sat down facing each other. But Miss Montag stood straight up again as she had left her handbag on the window sill and went to fetch it; she shuffled down the whole length of the room. When she came back, the handbag lightly swinging, she said, “I'd like just to have a few words with you on behalf of my friend. She would have come herself, but she's feeling a little unwell today.",1,0.62337685,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 He at once sent up a memorial asking that certain defensive arrangements be made. Zhang Yi, Left Commander of the Flying Cavalry, was to guard the Yangping Pass, and Liao Hua, Right Commander of the Flying Cavalry, was to command at the Yinping Bridge in Yinping, which were the two most important points upon which depended the security of Hanzhong. He also sent to engage the help of Wu, and gathered soldiers in Tazhong ready for the march. That year in Shu the reign-style had been changed from Wonderful Sight, the fifth year, to Joyful Prosperity, the first year (AD 264). When the memorial of Jiang Wei came to the Latter Ruler, it found him as usual amusing himself with his favorite Huang Hao. He read the document and said to the eunuch, “Here Jiang Wei says that the Wei armies under Deng Ai and Zhong Hui are on the way against us. What shall we do?” “There is nothing of the sort. Jiang Wei only wants to get a name for himself, and so he says this. Your Majesty need feel no alarm, for we can find out the truth from a certain wise woman I know. She is a real prophetess. May I call her?” The Latter Ruler consented, and a room was fitted up for the seance. They prepared therein incense, flowers, paper, candles, sacrificial articles and so on, and then Huang Hao went with a chariot to beg the wise woman to attend upon the Latter Ruler. She came and was seated on the Dragon Couch. After the Latter Ruler had kindled the incense and repeated the prayer, the wise woman suddenly let down her hair, dropped her slippers, and capered about barefoot. After several rounds of this, she coiled herself up on a table. ‘Her deity is descending,’ says Huang Hao. ‘ Then she collapses and takes quite some time to revive. ‘ Your Majesty’s lands are at peace. Why do you ask about anything else? Soon the Wei lands will be yours as well. Have no fears, sir.’ Clear everyone else out.’ ‘I am the protector god of the Shu,’ she says in a trance. The Latter Ruler was well satisfied with her prophesy and gave her large presents. Further, he thereafter believed all she told him. The immediate result was that Jiang Wei's memorial remained unanswered; and as the Latter Ruler was wholly given to pleasure, it was easy for Huang Hao to intercept all urgent memorials from the general.","Huang Hao then said, “The spirit has now descended. Send everyone away and pray to her.” So the attendants were dismissed, and the Latter Ruler entreated the wise woman. Suddenly she cried out, “I am the guardian spirit of the Western Land of Rivers. Your Majesty, rejoices in tranquillity; why do you inquire about other matters? Within a few years the land of Wei shall come under you, wherefore you need not be sorrowful.” She then fell to the ground as in a swoon, and it was some time before she revived.",1,0.62360615,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 I knew that my friends were on the 'front,' but I did not see them as they passed before the links of the sea's uneven chain, far at the back of which, and nestling amid its bluish peaks like an Italian citadel, one could occasionally, in a clear moment, make out the little town of Rivebelle, drawn in minutest detail by the sun. I did not see my friends, but ( while there mounted to my belvedere the shout of the newsboy, the 'journalists' as Françoise used to call them, the shouts of the bathers and of children at play, punctuating like the cries of sea–birds the sound of the gently breaking waves) I guessed their presence, I heard their laughter enveloped like the laughter of the Nereids in the smooth tide of sound that rose to my ears. ""We looked up,"" said Albertine in the evening, ""to see if you were coming down. But your shutters were still closed when the concert began. "" At ten o'clock, sure enough, it broke out beneath my windows. In the intervals in the blare of the instruments, if the tide were high, would begin again, slurred and continuous, the gliding surge of a wave which seemed to enfold the notes of the violin in its crystal spirals and to be spraying its foam over echoes of a submarine music. My things had not been laid out, and the impossibility of getting up and dressing began to make me lose patience. Twelve o'clock struck, Françoise arrived at last. And for months on end, in this Balbec to which I had so looked forward because I imagined it only as battered by the storm and buried in fogs , the weather had been so dazzling and so unchanging that when she came to open the window I could always, without once being wrong, expect to see the same patch of sunlight folded in the corner of the outer wall, of an unalterable colour which was less moving as a sign of summer than depressing as the colour of a lifeless and composed enamel. And after Françoise had removed her pins from the mouldings of the window–frame, taken down her various cloths, and drawn back the curtains, the summer day which she disclosed seemed as dead, as immemorially ancient as would have been a sumptuously attired dynastic mummy from which our old servant had done no more than precautionally unwind the linen wrappings before displaying it to my gaze, embalmed in its vesture of gold.","I grew impatient because no one had yet come with my things, so that I might rise and dress.",1,0.62406445,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 This was, I must own, one of the occasions upon which I had most to complain of my soul. For instead of being vexed at herself for having been absent, and scolding her companion for its hurry, she so far forgot herself as to give way to the most animal resentment, and to insult the poor fellow cruelly. “Idle rascal,” she said, “go and work.” she said to him (execrable apostrophe, invented by the miser and cruel wealth!) “Sir, he said then, to soften me, I am from Chambéry… – Too bad for you. You saw me when you were in the country. I used to drive the sheep into the fields.” “And what do you do here?” My soul began to regret the harshness of my first words; I almost think she regretted them a moment before they were uttered. In like manner, when one meets in the road a rut or puddle, one sees it, but has not time to avoid it.","(An execrable apostrophe this, the invention of miserly, heartless Mammon.) “Sir,” replied the man, hoping to soften my heart, “I come from Chambéry.” “So much the worse for you.” “I am James.",1,0.62429357,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 The words passive obedience tell the tale.","His love was no longer merely admiration for her beauty, but pride in possessing someone like her.",0,0.4841362,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 My so good wife is dead, who was the most this, the most that in the world. Yes, because why?",Efface brutish dial Which we e’er revile! Bray elsewhere you might:,1,0.62498045,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 Talking about intimacies, or better yet, imposing them, because he doesn't want to experience them at all. Everything would now be prepared to make a good impression, but he spoils it again with his laughter and frightens people.' But since it was not available from our administration, which is a bit strange in this respect, we made a collection - parties also contributed - and we bought him this beautiful dress and others. Look how he's sitting there, obviously busy with his own business.'","When you are acquitted in this sense, it means the charge against you is dropped for the moment but continues to hover over you, and can be reinstated the moment an order comes from above. Because I have such a close relationship with the court, I can also explain how the distinction between actual and apparent acquittal reveals itself in purely formal terms in court regulations. In an actual acquittal, the files relating to the case are completely discarded, they disappear totally from the proceedings, not only the charge, but the trial and even the acquittal are destroyed, everything is destroyed. An apparent acquittal is handled differently.",0,0.4832521,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 Yes, however, enough about this matter; I'm writing it all like this, my angel, for the sake of pampering, to amuse you. Farewell, my dove! I scribbled a lot for you here, but this, in fact, is because I am in the most cheerful state of mind today. We all dined together today at Ratazyaev's, so (they are naughty, mother!) they launched such novels ... well, what can you write about it! You just look, don’t come up with anything about me, Varenka. I'm all like that. I’ll send books, I’ll certainly send them ... There’s only one essay going around Paul de Coca’s hands, only there won’t be Paul de Coca for you, mother, ... No, no! Paul de Coq is no good for you. They say about him, mother, that he brings all Petersburg critics to noble indignation. I am sending you a pound of sweets - I bought it for you on purpose. Eat, darling, and remember me with every candy. Only you don’t gnaw on a lollipop, but just suck on it, otherwise your teeth will ache. And you, maybe, and candied fruit love? - you will write. Well, goodbye, goodbye. Christ be with you, my dear. And I shall remain forever ",And I will stay forever,1,0.62566686,1
+"lexical = 80, order = 60 - Oh no! After all, you know, I saw him, Seryozha, ”Anna said, screwing up her eyes, as if peering into something distant. - However, we will talk about it later. Believe it or not, I’m as if hungry, who was suddenly given a full dinner, and he doesn’t know what to start. A full dinner is you and the upcoming conversations with you that I could not have with anyone; and I don’t know what conversation to take first. Mais je ne vous fеrai grâce de rien. [221] I have to say everything. Yes, you need to sketch out the society that you will find with us, - she began. - I start with the ladies. Princess Varvara. You know her, and I know your opinion of her and Stiva’s. In Petersburg there was a moment when I needed un chaperon, and she just turned up. Stiva says that her entire purpose in life is to demonstrate her superiority over his aunt Katerina Pavlovna. That’s all true, but she is kind, and I am so grateful to her. But, really, she is kind. She made my situation much easier for me. I see that you do not understand the full gravity of my position ... there, in Petersburg, ”she added. - Here I am completely calm and happy. Well, yes, that's after. It is necessary to list. Then Sviyazhsky - he is a leader, and he is a very decent person, but he needs something from Alexei. You understand, with his condition, now that we have settled in the village, Alexei can have a great influence. Then Tushkevich - you saw him, he was with Betsy. Now he was put aside, and he came to us. He, as Alexei says, is one of those people who are very pleasant if taken for what they want to appear, et puis, comme il faut, [223] as Princess Varvara says. Then Veslovsky ... you know that. Very sweet boy, ”she said, and her cheeky smile curled up her lips. - What is this wild story with Levin? Veslovsky told Alexei, and we do not believe. Il est très gentil et naїf, [224] - she said again with the same smile. - Men need entertainment, and Alexei needs an audience, so I value all this society. We need to be lively and cheerful and that Alexei does not want anything new. Then the manager, German, is very good and knows his business. Alexey appreciates him very much. Then a doctor, a young man, not exactly a nihilist, but, you know, he eats with a knife ... but a very good doctor. Then the architect ... Une petite cour. [225]","You know her, and I know your opinion and Steve's about her. Steve says that the whole purpose of her life is to prove her superiority over Aunt Katerina Pavlovna; this is all true; but she is kind, and I am so grateful to her. There was a minute in Petersburg when I needed un chaperon. [222] Then she turned up.",1,0.62589556,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 Heaven and earth, thank you! I am happy! .. You gave me everything, everything that my excited spirit aspired to from adolescence. So this is where you led me, my guiding star; so that's why you brought me here, beyond the Stone Belt! I will show my Zyuleika to the whole world, and people, rabid monsters, will not dare to accuse me! Oh, if they understand these secret sufferings of her tender soul, if they are able to see a whole poem in one tear of my Zyuleika! Oh, let me wipe away this tear with kisses , let me drink it, this heavenly tear ... unearthly! ",", let me drink it up, that heavenly tear.. unearthly one!’",1,0.6263527,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 And, indeed, if it had ever happened that everything to the least point could have been considered and finally settled, and no uncertainty of any kind had remained, he would, it seems, have renounced it all as something absurd, monstrous and impossible. But a whole heap of unsettled points and uncertainties remained.","He did wrong to hold a council with his aides, in full moonlight, in the Rollin square. Certainly advice is useful, and it is well to know and to question those of the dogs which are worthy of credit; but the hunter cannot take too many precautions when he is chasing restless animals, like the wolf and the convict.",0,0.48242915,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 Twice Muffat had ventured to comment on her behaviour in an endeavour to discover what was happening, but she’d merely smiled and given him such an odd look that he’d been too intimidated to ask any further questions: her answers might have been too forthright. After coming back from Les Fondettes, the countess had suddenly manifested a taste for luxury and an appetite for social pleasures which was running away with their fortune. People were beginning to talk about her compulsive spending, a whole new and ruinous style of living, half-a-million francs squandered on doing up their old house in the Rue Miromesnil, her extravagant wardrobe and vast sums that had disappeared, melting, or perhaps given, away without any effort to provide justification. However, apart from Nana’s fresh demands, his domestic expenditure had suffered an extraordinary upheaval. In spite of the most solemn assurances he’d received, his hundred-thousand-franc promissory note had been put into circulation. Labordette was pretending to be utterly dismayed and blaming everything on Francis; he’d take good care not to have any future business dealings with someone who wasn’t a gentleman. But the note had to be met; the count would never allow his signature to be questioned.","Despite formal promises to the contrary, the bill for a hundred thousand francs had been put in circulation after being once renewed, and Labordette, pretending to be very miserable about it, threw all the blame on Francis, declaring that he would never again mix himself up in such a matter with an uneducated man. It was necessary to pay, for the count would never have allowed his signature to be protested. Then in addition to Nana's novel demands, his home expenses were extraordinarily confused. On their return from Les Fondettes the countess had suddenly manifested a taste for luxury, a longing for worldly pleasures, which was devouring their fortune. Her ruinous caprices began to be talked about. Their whole household management was altered, and five hundred thousand francs were squandered in utterly transforming the old house in the Rue Miromesnil. Then there were extravagantly magnificent gowns and large sums disappeared, squandered or perhaps given away, without her ever dreaming of accounting for them. Twice Muffat ventured to mention this, for he was anxious to know how the money went, but on these occasions she had smiled and gazed at him with so singular an expression that he dared not interrogate her further for fear of a too-unmistakable answer.",1,0.62658125,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 He promised to patronize me in everything and immediately invited me to his place for tea.","To this he demurred—for quite a long time he demurred, but at length he accepted the offer. Next, he was for drinking the tea without sugar, and renewed his excuses, but upon the sugar I insisted. After long resistance and many refusals, he DID consent to take some, but only the smallest possible lump; after which, he assured me that his tea was perfectly sweet. To what depths of humility can poverty reduce a man! “",0,0.48169765,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 After these words Aglaya immediately joined the others – which, of course, she had every intention of doing anyway. It was about three months ago. General Ivan Fedorovich was not at home this time. Yevgeny Pavlovich hasn't arrived yet either. Prince Sh., who was sitting with Adelaide, at her request, immediately agreed to accompany the ladies. Even before, at the beginning of his acquaintance with the Yepanchins, he became extremely interested when he heard from them about the prince. It turned out that he knew him, that they met somewhere recently and lived together for two weeks in some town. Prince Shch. even talked a lot about the prince and generally spoke of him very sympathetically, so that now he went to visit an old acquaintance with sincere pleasure. ","Prince S., who happened to be with Adelaida at the time, at her request readily agreed to accompany the ladies. He had quite early on, at the very start of his friendship with the Yepanchins, betrayed an intense interest when he heard about Prince Myshkin from them. It turned out he knew him, that they had met quite recently and spent a fortnight together in a little town somewhere. This had happened about three months previously. Prince S. had a great deal to say about his new friend and spoke of him very warmly, such that now he was genuinely pleased to have an opportunity to see him. General Ivan Fyodorovich was out at the time and Yevgeny Pavlovich had not yet arrived.",1,0.6272665,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 60 Margot’s a stinker (there’s We lit the stove a few days ago and the entire room is still filled with smoke. That’s the way things ought to be. Mother and I are getting along better lately, but we’re never close. Father’s not very open about his feelings, but he’s the same sweetheart he’s always been. I prefer central heating, and I’m probably not the only one. That’s surely the road to success.","I’m not a baby or a spoiled darling any more, to be laughed at, whatever she does, I have my own views, plans, and ideas, though I can’t put them into words yet. Oh, so many things bubble up inside me as I lie in bed, having to put up with people I’m fed up with, who always misinterpret my intentions. That’s why in the end I always come back to my diary. That is where I start and finish, because Kitty is always patient. I’ll promise her that I shall persevere, in spite of everything, and find my own way through it all, and swallow my tears. I only wish I could see the results already or occasionally receive encouragement from someone who loves me.",1,0.6272665,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 Why on earth? I was giving him up to that young lady! But why? Has the proud young lady gone? Ha-ha-ha!’ Insane! ... I’m insane! she laughed hysterically. ‘ Ha-ha-ha!","There's nothing for us to fight for! I ask him for forgiveness, sweat and all. And if you fight, then fight! Let him shoot; I even want. Haha! Now I know how to load a gun! Do you know that I was just being taught how to load a pistol? Do you know how to load a pistol, Keller? We must first buy gunpowder, pistol gunpowder, not wet and not so large, which is fired from cannons; and then first put the gunpowder, get the felt from somewhere out of the door, and then roll in the bullet, and not the bullet before the gunpowder, because it won’t shoot.",0,0.4813319,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 “Oh, certainly,” cried the father, as though he were the violinist. “On the contrary,” said the middle gentleman, “wouldn’t the young lady care to come in here with us and play where it is more spacious and comfortable?” The boarders had already finished their supper, the middle one had taken out a newspaper and distributed a sheet each to the two others, and they were now leaning back, reading and smoking. They must have been heard from the kitchen because the father called out: “Are the gentlemen disturbed by the violin playing? It can be stopped at once.” Soon the father entered with the music stand, the mother with the music, and the sister with the violin. When the violin began playing they all looked up, got to their feet, and tiptoed to the foyer door, where they huddled together. The boarders retreated to the room and waited.",", I felt, so I stepped in and really gave a few of them a good walloping. You know, Karamazov, it’s funny , the more I beat the daylights out of them, the more they like me!” Kolya couldn’t help bragging. “But I myself, I like kids. In fact, the reason I was late coming here was that I couldn’t leave two small children I was looking after at home . . . Well, so the brats stopped beating him and he became my protégé. He was very proud, but in the end he became devoted to me, obeyed me blindly, listened to me as if I were God Almighty Himself, and even tried to imitate me.",0,0.48072246,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 “Yes, yes, that’s the very point!” he exclaimed, interrupting me. “That’s the very thing I wanted to say to you! And that is just what explains the extraordinary phenomenon that, on the one hand, woman is reduced to the lowest degree of humiliation while, on the other, she is the queen. Women are exactly like the Jews, who by their financial power compensate for the oppression to which they’re subjected. “Aha, you just want us to be merchants, do you? All right, then, it’s as merchants that we’ll lord it over you,” say the Jews. You may say that would be monstrous. Very well. Then the man shouldn’t have these rights, either. Women’s lack of rights has nothing to do with them not being allowed to vote or be judges – those matters don’t constitute any sort of right. No, it has to do with the fact that in sexual relations she’s not the man’s equal. She doesn’t have the right to avail herself of the man or abstain from him, according to her desire, to select the man she wants rather than be the one who’s selected. “Aha, you just want us to be the objects of your sensuality, do you? All right, then, it’s as the objects of your sensuality that we’ll enslave you,” say women. Now the woman lacks the right which the man has. And now, in order to get this right, she plays on the passions of man; by means of his passions, she subdues him so that, while seemingly he chooses, she is really the one. And having once learned this power, she abuses it and acquires a terrible control over men.”","The boy looked so wretched, he was blue with cold and probably hungry as well, and he was in earnest, oh yes, he was in earnest; I know a bit about these things. What is bad is that these scurvy mothers don’t look after their children and go sending them out with letters half-naked in cold weather like this. Perhaps she is a stupid peasant woman with no strength of character; and perhaps she has no one to go out and work for her, so she just sits cross-legged and is genuinely ill. But she could still apply in the quarters where such cases are dealt with. On the other hand, perhaps she is just a fraud, purposely sending a hungry, feeble child out to dupe people, and thereby making him ill. And what does the poor boy learn from handing out these letters? His heart merely grows hardened; he goes around, runs up to people, begging.",0,0.4804787,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 Someone . . . has seen drafts of a letter, which Erlend and his friends sent to her in the spring; it’s not likely to fall into the hands of the authorities unless they can threaten Lady Ingebjørg to part with it. And they haven’t found any drafts. But according to both the reply letter and the letter from Herr Aage Laurisen, which they seized from Borgar Trondssøn in Veøy, it seems certain enough that she did receive such a missive from Erlend and the men who have joined forces with him in this plan. For a long time she clearly seemed to fear sending Prince Haakon to Norway; but they persuaded her that no matter what the outcome might be, King Magnus would not possibly harm the child, since they are brothers. If Håkon Knutsson did not win the kingdom in Norway, he would not be in a very different position than before - but these men were willing to risk life and property to get him lifted up to the throne. "" ","Even if Haakon Knutssøn did not win the Crown in Norway, he would be no worse off than before. But these men were willing to risk their lives and their property to put him on the throne.”",1,0.6286354,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 But the plan backfires terribly.","He said: ""Your Majesty's words are very worthy!",1,0.6288634,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 ‘Gentlemen,’ Pyotr Stepanovich turned to them all. ‘Now we’ll go our separate ways. Undoubtedly you should now be feeling that proud sense of freedom that is associated with the fulfilment of an obligation freely undertaken. But if you are now unfortunately too upset to experience such feelings, you will undoubtedly feel them tomorrow, when it would be a shame not to feel them. I agree to regard Lyamshin’s extremely shameful state of agitation as delirium, the more so since they say he really has been ill since this morning. And as for you, Virginsky, one moment of free reflection will show you that in view of the interests of the common cause it was impossible to act on someone’s word of honour, but that we had to do precisely as we did. Subsequent events will show that there was a denunciation. As for danger, there is none to be expected. I agree to forget your exclamations. It won’t even enter anyone’s head to suspect any of us, especially if you manage to behave yourselves. So the main thing still depends on you yourselves and on your complete conviction, which I hope you will find confirmed by tomorrow. And that is why, by the way, you have closed ranks in a separate organization freely assembled from like-minded people: so that in the common cause you share in your efforts at a given moment, and, if need be, observe and keep an eye on one another. Each of you is accountable to a higher authority. You are called upon to renew a cause that has become decrepit and has begun to reek of stagnation. Always keep that before your eyes to encourage yourselves. Your every step now should be taken in order to bring about the collapse of everything, both the state and its moral code. Only we shall remain, we who have destined ourselves to take power; we shall join the intelligent ones to ourselves and ride roughshod over the fools. You must not be embarrassed by this. We must re-educate a generation in order to make it worthy of freedom. There are still many thousands of Shatovs in our future. We shall organize ourselves in order to seize control of the direction in which things are moving. It’s a shame not to grab hold of what is lying idle and staring open-mouthed at us. Now I’m going to go to Kirillov’s, and by morning there will be the document in which he, as he is dying, by way of explanation to the government takes it all on himself. Nothing could be more plausible than such a stratagem. In the first place, he had a falling out with Shatov: they lived together in America, and so they had time to quarrel. It’s known that Shatov changed his convictions; and enmity prompted by convictions and by fear of denunciation is the most unforgiving kind. All this will be written down just like that. Finally, keep in mind that Fedka lodged with him, in Filippov’s house. And so, all this will completely lift any suspicion from us, because it will throw all these mutton-heads off track. Tomorrow, gentlemen, we won’t see each other: I’m going off to the country for a very short time. But the day after tomorrow you will hear from me. I would advise you, as a matter of fact, to stay at home tomorrow. Just now we’ll leave in two different directions. I’ll ask you, Tolkachenko, to look after Lyamshin and take him home. You might have some influence on him and, most of all, explain the extent to which he’ll be the first to harm himself with his cowardice. Mr Virginsky, I don’t want to have any doubts about your relative Shigalyov, any more than I do about you: he won’t denounce us. All that remains is to regret his actions; still and all, he hasn’t yet announced that he’s leaving the society, and therefore it’s still too early to bury him. Well then, let’s hurry up, gentlemen. They may be mutton-heads out there, but caution still doesn’t hurt.’","I am willing to forget your cries of protest. As for danger, none is foreseen.",1,0.6295469,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 “ ‘Heaven and earth, I thank you! I am happy! ... You have given me everything, everything, for which my turbulent soul has striven from my boyhood’s years.","Oh, let me dry that tear with kisses",0,0.4791381,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 Varvara Alekseevna! my dove, mother! I'm gone, we're both gone, both together, irretrievably gone. My reputation, my ambition, all is lost! I died, and you died, mother, and you, along with me, irrevocably died! It's me, I brought you to death! They drive me away, mother, they despise me, they make fun of me, but the hostess simply began to scold me; screamed, screamed at me today, scolded me, scolded me, put me below a chip. And in the evening at Ratazyaev's, one of them began to read aloud a draft letter that I wrote to you, but accidentally dropped it from my pocket. My mother, what a mockery they lifted! Magnified, magnified us, laughed, laughed, traitors! I went in to them and convicted Ratazyaev of treachery; told him he was a traitor! And Ratazyaev answered me that I myself was a traitor, that I was engaged in various conkets [9]; says, - you were hiding from us, you, they say, Lovelace [10] ; and now everyone calls me Lovelace, and I have no other name! Do you hear, my angel, do you hear - now they know everything, they are known about everything, and they know about you, my dear, and about everything that you have, they know about everything! Why! and Faldoni there too, and he is at one with them ; I sent him today to the sausage shop, so bring something; does not go and only, there is a thing, he says! “But you have to,” I say. “No, he says, he’s not obliged, you don’t pay money to my mistress, so I don’t owe you.” I could not stand an insult from him, from an uneducated peasant, and even told him a fool; and he told me - ""I heard from a fool. "" I think that he said such rudeness to me from drunken eyes, - and I say, you, they say, are drunk, you are such a man! and he told me: “Did you bring something to me? Do they themselves have something to get drunk on; you yourself are christening for a dime, - and he added: - Oh, they say, and also a gentleman! Here, mother, this is what it has come to! Live, Varenka, ashamed! just announced some; worse than some passportless tramp. Severe disasters! I died, I just died! died irrevocably.","he exclaimed, when the princess told him that Vronsky was going on this train.",0,0.4791381,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 20 The baron knew no end of embracing Candide; he called him his brother, his deliverer. “Perhaps,” said he, “my dear Candide, we shall be fortunate enough to enter the town sword in hand, and recover my sister Cunégonde.” “Ah! that is all I desire,” replied Candide, “for I intended to marry her; and I hope I shall still be able to.” “Insolent fellow!” replied the baron. “You! you have the impudence to marry my sister, who bears seventy-two quarterings! Really I think you are very presumptuous to dare so much as to mention such an audacious design to me.” Candide, thunderstruck at the oddness of this speech, answered: “Reverend father, all the quarterings in the world are of no significance. I have rescued your sister from a Jew and an Inquisitor; she is under many obligations to me, and she wants to marry me. My master Pangloss always told me that all people are by nature equal. Therefore, I will certainly marry your sister.” “We will see about that, villain!” said the Jesuit baron of Thunder-ten-tronckh, and struck him across the face with the flat side of his sword. Candide in an instant drew his rapier, and plunged it up to the hilt in the Jesuit’s body; but in pulling it out, reeking hot, he burst into tears. “Good God,” cried he, “I have killed my old master, my friend, my brother-in-law. I am the best man in the world, and yet I have already killed three men; and of these three two were priests.”","Just how it all really happened, God alone knows; it would be better for the reader, if he is willing, to make up the end of that story for himself. The main thing is that their connections with the smugglers, hitherto covert, now became overt. Even though the State Councilor was ruined himself, he had also cooked his co-worker’s goose for him. Both officials were arrested, all their worldly goods were inventoried, impounded, and confiscated, and all this broke suddenly, like a thunderbolt, over their heads. They came to, as if out of a daze, and saw with horror what they had done. The State Councilor, in the Russian manner, took to drink out of sorrow, but the Collegiate Councilor stood firm. He had been able to secrete a part of his funds, no matter how keen the scent of the higher-ups who had trooped together for the investigation; he brought into play all the fine dodges of a mind by now all too experienced and knowing people all too well: on one he’d work through the charm of his manners, on another through a touching speech, on a third through the use of the insidious incense of flattery, which in any case could do no harm in the matter; on a fourth he would use a little bribe; in short, he worked the business all around in such a way that at last he was dismissed with less ignominy than his co-worker, and got away without having to go through a trial on a criminal charge. But he had neither any great capital remaining, nor any of the sundry little thingamabobs from abroad; nothing remained to him: other willing hands had been found to grab everything that had been his.",0,0.4789553,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 20 He began to put on his robes; a deacon in a surplice asked obsequiously for a hot ember; there was a scent of incense. The maids and men-servants came out from the hall and remained huddled close together before the door. Roska, who never came down from up-stairs, suddenly ran into the dining-room; they began to chase her out; she was scared, doubled back into the room and sat down; a footman picked her up and carried her away. The evening service began. Lavretsky squeezed himself into a corner; his emotions were strange, almost sad; he could not himself make out clearly what he was feeling. Marya Dmitrievna stood in front of all, before the chairs; she crossed herself with languid carelessness, like a grand lady, and first looked about her, then suddenly lifted her eyes to the ceiling; she was bored. Marfa Timofyevna looked worried; Nastasya Karpovna bowed down to the ground and got up with a kind of discreet, subdued rustle; Lisa remained standing in her place motionless; from the concentrated expression of her face it could be seen that she was praying steadfastly and fervently. When she bowed to the cross at the end of the service, she also kissed the large red hand of the priest. Marya Dmitrievna invited the latter to have some tea; he took off his vestment, assumed a somewhat more worldly air, and passed into the drawing-room with the ladies. Lavretsky for some reason felt a constant urge to smile and say amusing things; but there was confusion in his heart, and he left finally, secretly bewildered…. She seemed deliberately not to notice him; she was possessed by a kind of cold, serious exaltation. Lavretsky was about to sit next to Liza, but she held herself stiffly, almost severely, and did not once glance in his direction. The priest drank four cups of tea, ceaselessly wiped his bald patch with a handkerchief, related among other things that the merchant Avoshnikov had given seven hundred roubles for the gilding of the church ‘cupola’ and informed them of a reliable means of getting rid of freckles. A not unduly lively conversation began. He felt there was something in Lisa to which he could never penetrate.","Putting her minute lorgnette to her eyes, she saw a law student, his tight-waisted uniform rustling with silk, dart out of the ballroom and up to the flushed girl in the next room who was drinking cordial, and, rolling his ‘r’s in his throat with an unnaturally deep bass voice, snatch the glass of ruby-red cordial from the girl in jest and bashfully take a cold sip.",0,0.47846797,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 “As though that mattered,” said Nozdryov; “I shall beat him all the same. Just let him try playing doubles, then I shall see; I shall see then how much of a player he is. In particular, Staff-Captain Potsieluev is a SPLENDID fellow! I myself managed to sell everything from my estate at a good price. Friend Chichikov, at first we had a glorious time, for the fair was a tremendous success. I can’t help thinking of it, devil take me! In fact, we had a magnificent time. Indeed, the tradesmen said that never yet had there been such a gathering. Forty at least there are, and they do a fine lot of knocking about the town and drinking. But what a pity YOU were not there! Three versts from the town there is quartered a regiment of dragoons, and you would scarcely believe what a lot of officers it has. such fine moustaches, my boy! He calls Bordeaux simply ‘bordashka.’ ‘Bring us some bordashka, waiter!’ he would say. Lieutenant Kuvshinnikov ... ah, my boy, what a charming man! One might say he is a regular dog! He and I were together all the time. What wine Ponomarey brought out for us! You must know he is a regular cheat; you shouldn’t buy anything in his shop; he puts all sorts of rubbish into his wine, sandalwood, burnt cork, and even colours it with elderberries, the rogue: but if he brings out from some remote place they call the special room, some choice little bottle, well then, old boy, you will find yourself in the empyrean.an We had champagne ... what was the governor’s compared with it?—no better than cider. Just fancy, not Cliquot but a special Cliquot-Matradura which means double Cliquot. And he got us a bottle of French wine too, called Bon-bon, with a fragrance!—of roses and anything you like! Didn’t we have a roaring time! A prince who came after us sent to the shop for champagne, there wasn’t a bottle to be had in the town: the officers had drunk it all. Would you believe it, I drank seventeen bottles of champagne myself at dinner!”","But what a roaring time we had the first days, friendTchitchikov. The fair really was a first-rate one. The very dealers said there had never been such a crowd. Everything I had brought from the village sold at tip-top prices. Ah, my boy, didn’t we have a time! Even now when one thinks of it ... dash it all! What a pity you weren’t there! Only fancy, there was a regiment of dragoons stationed only two miles from the town. Would you believe it, all the officers, forty of them, were in the town, every man-jack of them.... When we began to drink, my boy ... the staff-captain Potsyeluev ... such a jolly fellow ...",1,0.63091236,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 And yet he was glad he had come: the torment that had forced him to leave his house had become less acute as it became less vague, now that Odette’s other life, of which he had had, back then, a sudden helpless suspicion, was now in his grasp, fully illuminated by the lamp, an unwitting prisoner in that room into which, when he chose, he could go to surprise it and capture it; or rather he would knock on the shutters as he often did when he came very late; this way at least, Odette would learn that he knew, that he had seen the light and heard the talking, and that, after having just a moment ago pictured her laughing with the other man at his illusions, he would now be the one to see them, confident in their error, actually outwitted by him whom they believed to be so very far away and who, in fact, already knew he was going to knock at the shutters. And perhaps, what he was feeling at this moment, which was almost pleasant, was also something different from the assuaging of a doubt and a distress: it was a pleasure in knowledge. If, ever since he had fallen in love, things had regained for him a little of the delightful interest they had once had for him, but only insofar as they were illuminated by the memory of Odette, now it was another of the faculties of his studious youth that his jealousy revived, a passion for truth, but for a truth that was likewise interposed between him and his mistress, taking its light only from her, a completely individual truth whose sole object, of an infinite value and almost disinterested in its beauty, was Odette’s actions, her relationships, her plans, her past. At all other periods of his life, the little everyday words and deeds of a person had always seemed worthless to Swann if someone conveyed them to him as the subject of a bit of gossip, he found such gossip meaningless, and, while he listened to it, only the most vulgar part of his attention was interested; these were the times when he felt himself to be most mediocre. But in this strange phase of love, an individual person assumes something so profound that the curiosity he now felt awakening in him concerning the smallest occupations of this woman, was the same curiosity he had once had about History. And everything he would have been ashamed of until now, spying outside a window, who knows? tomorrow perhaps, to make the indifferent speak skilfully, to bribe the servants, to eavesdrop, no longer seemed to him, as much as the deciphering of texts, the comparison of testimonies and the interpretation of monuments, as methods of scientific investigation of real intellectual value and appropriate to the search for truth. ",The moving in took place at once. During the first few days Gervaise felt as delighted as a child.,0,0.477676,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 She was lying stretched out motionless on her back with her hands behind her head. She was dressed as though expecting some one, in a black silk dress, with a dainty lace fichu on her head, which was very becoming. Over her shoulders was thrown a lace shawl pinned with a massive gold brooch. She certainly was expecting some one. The appearance of Rakitin and Alyosha caused a slight excitement. From the hall they could hear Grushenka leap up from the sofa and cry out in a frightened voice, ""Who's there?"" Under her head she had two white down pillows taken from her bed. But the maid met the visitors and at once called back to her mistress. She lay as though impatient and weary, her face rather pale and her lips and eyes hot, restlessly tapping the arm of the sofa with the tip of her right foot. Grushenka was lying down in her drawing-room on the big, hard, clumsy sofa, with a mahogany back. The sofa was covered with shabby and ragged leather.","Lacking him, let’s ask the old woman. She was a sensible body, and was just starting to give her opinion of the situation, when another little door opened. It was just one o’clock in the morning, Sunday morning.",0,0.47749326,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 This was the period in her career when Nana’s star blazed with ever-increasing brilliance and her vicious life loomed even larger on the horizon of vice of Paris. Nobody had ever seen such raging extravagance. Her grand residence was like some glowing furnace where desire was constantly at white heat and her slightest breath could turn gold into fine ash, to be swept away by the wind. The house was like a bottomless pit in which men were engulfed with all their possessions; their body and even their name sank without leaving even a tiny speck of dust. Her shameless luxury, her majestic, total disregard for money, so that whole fortunes melted away before everyone’s eyes, had the capital at her feet. This girl, with the taste of a parakeet, crunching radishes and pralines, fiddling with meat, had monthly accounts for her table of five thousand francs. It was, at the pantry, a frantic waste, a ferocious pouring, which ripped open the barrels of wine, which rolled notes swollen by three or four successive hands. Victorine and François reigned supreme in the kitchen, where they invited people, apart from a small group of cousins fed at home with cold meats and fatty broth; Julien demanded discounts from the suppliers, the glaziers did not give a thirty-sou pane without him having twenty added for him; Charles ate the horses' oats, doubling the supplies, reselling through a back door what came in through the front door; while, in the midst of this general waste, in this sack of the city taken by assault, Zoe, by dint of art, managed to save appearances, covered up the thefts of all the better to confuse and save her own. But what was lost was even worse, the food of the night before thrown at the bollard5, a clutter of provisions which the servants were disgusted with, the sugar6 stuffing the glasses, the gas burning at full beaks, to the point of blowing up the walls; and negligence, and wickedness, and accidents, all that can hasten ruin, in a house devoured by so many mouths. Then, upstairs, at Madame's, the debacle blew harder; dresses costing ten thousand francs, worn twice, sold for seven by Zoe; jewels which disappeared, as if crumbled at the bottom of the drawers; stupid purchases, the novelties of the day, forgotten the next day in the corners, swept away in the street. She could not see something very dear without wanting to, and thus created around her a continual disaster of flowers, of precious knick-knacks, all the happier because her one-hour whim cost more. Nothing remained in his hands; she broke everything , it faded, it got dirty between her little white fingers; a strewn of nameless debris, twisted shreds, muddy rags, followed her and marked her passage. Then came the big payments, in the midst of this mess of pocket money: twenty thousand francs at the milliner's, thirty thousand at the seamstress's, twelve thousand at the shoemaker's; his stable devoured him fifty thousand; in six months, she had a note from her dressmaker for one hundred and twenty thousand francs. Without her having increased her rate, estimated by Labordette at an average of four hundred thousand francs, she reached that year a million, amazed herself at this figure, unable to say where such a sum could have gone. The men piled up one on top of the other, the gold emptied by the wheelbarrow, could not manage to fill the hole which was always dug under the pavement of his hotel, in the creaks of his luxury.","This idea of being animals in the Zoo was instantly underlined for me. It was the hour when hawkers of sweets, cakes and other delicacies haunt the esplanade, barking their wares in strident tones. At a loss to show her good-will towards us in a fitting manner, the Princess stopped the next one who came along. All he had left was a little loaf of rye-bread, the sort you feed to the ducks. The Princess took it, saying to me, ‘This is for your grandmother.’ But she then handed it to me, with a smile full of feeling: ‘You be the one to give it to her,’ meaning no doubt that my enjoyment would be greater if nobody came between me and the animals.",0,0.4774323,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 There, that's all. Of course I was to blame, and even now that I have time to look back at it calmly, I pity the poor old thing no less. I repeat I dare say I have committed many a grievous sin in my day; but I cannot help always looking back upon this as the worst action I have ever perpetrated."" instead of tears and prayers to start her on her last journey, she has insults and jeers from a young ensign, who stands before her with his hands in his pockets, making a terrible row about a soup tureen!' But the more I thought of it, the more I felt the weight of it upon my mind; and I never got quite rid of the impression until I put a couple of old women into an almshouse and kept them there at my own expense. At sunset, on a lovely summer's evening, my little old woman passes away—a thought, you will notice, which offers much food for reflection—and behold! I repeat that I wonder at myself, for after all I was not really responsible. Why did she take it into her head to die at that moment?","With the setting of the sun, on a quiet summer evening, my old woman also flew away — of course, there’s a certain moral to be drawn here; and then at that very moment, instead of tears of farewell, so to speak, there’s a desperate young ensign, with his hands on his hips and a self-satisfied look, seeing her off from the crust of the earth with a stream of Russian curses about a missing tureen! There’s no doubt, I was guilty, and although, because of the remoteness of the years and the change in my nature, I have long viewed my action as that of another man, I none the less continue to be sorry. So that, I repeat, it even seems strange to me, and all the more so since, if I was to blame, I was not so entirely: I mean, why did she decide to die at that particular moment? There is, of course, an excuse: that my action was in some sense a psychological one, but all the same I could find no rest until, about fifteen years ago, at my own expense I settled two chronically ill old women in the almshouse, with the object of softening the last days of their earthly life by having them decently looked after. I plan to turn it into a permanent one, and have left capital in my will. Well, gentlemen, that is all, gentlemen. I repeat that although I may have been guilty of very many things in my life, I consider that incident to be the worst action of my whole life.’",1,0.6315943,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 And late today, the angel Peri deigned to open his innocent eyes from the pillows; but the eyes stuck together; and in the head a deaf-dull pain clearly developed; the angel Peri deigned to remain in slumber for a long time; under the curls swarm all sorts of indistinctness, anxiety, half hints: the first full thought was the thought of the evening: something will happen! But when she tried to develop this thought, her eyes closed completely and again went into some kind of indistinctness, anxiety, half hints; and out of these obscurities, only one arose again: Pompadour, Pompadour, Pompadour—and what is Pompadour? But her soul brightly illuminated that word: a costume in the spirit of Madame Pompadour - azure, with flowers, Valenciennes lace, silvery shoes, pompons! About a costume in the style of Madame Pompadour the other day she had been arguing for a long time with her dressmaker; Madame Farnoy still did not want to give in to her regarding blonds; said: “And why are these blondes?” But what about blondes? According to Madame Farnoy, blondes should look like this, be then; and blondes were not supposed to look like this at all, according to Sofya Petrovna. Madame Farnoy at first told her: “My taste, your taste, well, how could Madame Pompadour’s style not be!” But Sofya Petrovna did not want to yield; and Madame Farnoy resentfully offered to take the material back to her. “Take it to Maison Tricotons. There, Madame, they wouldn’t think of contradicting you.” But to give it to Tricotons—fie, fie, fie! And the blonde lace was abandoned, as was the chapeau Bergère. But without a pannier for the long skirt—impossible. ","Take it to Maison Tricotons: “There, madam, they won’t argue with you ...” But give it to Maison Tricotons: - fi, fi, fi! And the blondes left, as they left other controversial points regarding the style of Madame Pompadour: for example, a light chapeau Bergére for the hands, but it was impossible to do without a pannier skirt.",1,0.6315943,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 A bit bothered by the drawing room’s excessive splendor, Julien did not listen to what Monsieur de La Mole was saying. Julien thought her insolent, rather like Madame de Maugiron, wife of the deputy governor of the Verrières district, when she’d attended the Saint Charles feast day dinner. This was the marquise.","how if you were only a day late with your interest the pledge was lost; how she gave a quarter of the value of an article and took five and even seven percent a month on it and so on. The student chattered on, saying that she had a sister Lizaveta, whom the repulsive little creature was continually beating, and kept in complete bondage like a small child, though Lizaveta was at least six feet tall . . .",0,0.47718868,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 He looked. Before him, two old gentlemen were standing at the window, one holding a lamp, and then he saw the bedroom, a bedroom unknown to him. Because he was in the habit, when he came to Odette’s house very late, of recognizing her window by the fact that it was the only one lit among windows that were all alike, he had made a mistake and knocked at the window after hers, which belonged to the adjoining house. He went away apologizing and returned home, happy that the satisfaction of his curiosity had left their love intact and that after having simulated a sort of indifference toward Odette for so long, he had not given her, by his jealousy, that proof of loving her too much which, between two lovers, exempts forever after, from loving enough, the one who receives it. He did not speak to her of this misadventure, he himself no longer thought of it. As if it had been a physical pain, Swann's thoughts could not lessen it; but at least physical pain, because it is independent of thought, thought can dwell on it, observe that it has diminished, that it has momentarily ceased. But, at times, a movement of her thoughts came to meet the memory of it which she had not perceived, struck it, pushed it deeper and Swann felt a sudden and deep pain. ","He did not talk to her about this misadventure, he himself did not think about it further. But now and then his thoughts as they moved about would come upon the memory of it which they had not noticed, bump up against it, drive it further in, and Swann would feel a sudden, deep pain. As if it were a physical pain, Swann’s mind could not lessen it; but at least with physical pain, because it is independent of thought, thought can dwell on it, note that it has diminished, that it has momentarily ceased.",1,0.63204867,1
+"lexical = 80, order = 100 Here K. was interrupted by a shriek from the end of the hail; he peered from beneath his hand to see what was happening, for the reek of the room and the dim light together made a whitish dazzle of fog. It was the washer-woman, whom K. had recognized as a potential cause of disturbance from the moment of her entrance. Whether she was at fault now or not, one could not tell. All K. could see was that a man had drawn her into a corner by the door and was clasping her in his arms. * Yet it was not she who had uttered the shriek but the man; his mouth was wide open and he was gazing up at the ceiling. A little circle had formed round them, the gallery spectators near by seemed to be delighted that the seriousness which K. had introduced into the proceedings should be dispelled in this manner. K.'s first impulse was to rush across the room, he naturally imagined that everybody would be anxious to have order restored and the offending couple at least ejected from the meeting, but the first rows of the audience remained quite impassive, no one stirred and no one would let him through. On the contrary they actually obstructed him, someone's hand -- he had no time to turn round -- seized him from behind by the collar, old men stretched out their arms to bar his way, and by this time K. was no longer thinking about the couple, it seemed to him as if his freedom were being threatened, as if he were being arrested in earnest, and he sprang recklessly down from the platform. Now he stood eye to eye with the crowd. Had he been mistaken in these people? Had he overestimated the effectiveness of his speech? Had they been disguising their real opinions while he spoke, and now that he had come to the conclusion of his speech were they weary at last of pretense? What faces these were around him! Their little black eyes darted furtively from side to side, their beards were stiff and brittle, and to take hold of them would be like clutching bunches of claws rather than beards. But under the beards -- and this was K.'s real discovery -- badges of various sizes and colors gleamed on their coatcollars. They all wore these badges, so far as he could see. They were all colleagues, these ostensible parties of the Right and the Left, and as he turned round suddenly he saw the same badges on the coat-collar of the Examining Magistrate, who was sitting quietly watching the scene with his hands on his knees. "" So !"" cried K., flinging his arms in the air, his sudden enlightenment had to break out, ""every man jack of you is an official , I see, you are yourselves the corrupt agents of whom I have been speaking, you've all come rushing here to listen and nose out what you can about me, making a pretense of party divisions, and half of you applauded merely to lead me on, you wanted some practice in fooling an innocent man. Well, much good I hope it's done you, for either you have merely gathered some amusement from the fact that I expected you to defend the innocent, or else -- keep off or I'll strike you,"" cried K. to a trembling old man who had pushed quite close to him -- "" or else you have really learned a thing or two. And I wish you joy of your trade."" He hastily seized his hat, which lay near the edge of the table, and amid universal silence, the silence of complete stupefaction, if nothing else, pushed his way to the door. But the Examining Magistrate seemed to have been still quicker than K., for he was waiting at the door. ""One moment,"" he said. K. paused but kept his eyes on the door, not on the Examining Magistrate; his hand was already on the latch. ""I merely wanted to point out,"" said the Examining Magistrate, ""that today -- you may not yet have become aware of the fact -- today you have flung away with your own hand all the advantages which an interrogation invariably confers on an accused man. "" K. laughed, still looking at the door. "" You scoundrels, I'll spare you future interrogations,"" he shouted, opened the door, and hurried down the stairs. Behind him rose the buzz of animated discussion, the audience had apparently come to life again and were analyzing the situation like expert students.","A moment, he said.",1,0.6322757,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 On the other hand, through his daughter Azelma, whom he had sent to track down the couple who were married on the sixteenth of February, and through his own personal delvings, he had managed to find out a great many things, and he had succeeded in unearthing from the shadows more than one mysterious lead. He had through industrious effort discovered, or at least through a process of intuitive reasoning guessed, who the man was that he had encountered one particular day in the Great Sewer. To be paid for his silence? Who was Cosette? But on that side, he intended to be discreet. He had a glimpse of some bastardy, Fantine's story had always seemed suspicious to him; but why talk about it? He just didn't know himself. He knew that Madame la Baronne Pontmercy was Cosette. From the man he had easily arrived at the name. He had, or believed he had, to sell better than that. And to come to Baron Pontmercy and without any proof to deliver this revelation, ‘Your wife is a bastard’, would in all likelihood have succeeded only in bringing the husband’s boot to meet the revealer’s backside.","Pierre took his feet off the table, got up and lay down on the bed prepared for him, occasionally glancing at the newcomer, who, with a gloomy-tired look, without looking at Pierre, was heavily undressing with the help of a servant. Left in a shabby, covered sheepskin coat and felted boots on thin, bony legs, the traveler sat down on the sofa, leaning his very large and wide at the temples, short-cropped head against the back and looked at Bezukhy. The strict, intelligent and penetrating expression of this look struck Pierre. He wanted to speak to the traveler, but when he was about to turn to him with a question about the road, the traveler had already closed his eyes and folded his wrinkled old hands, on the finger of one of which was a large cast-iron ring with the image of Adam's head, sat motionless, or resting, or about something thoughtfully and calmly thinking, as it seemed to Pierre. The passerby's servant was all covered with wrinkles, also a yellow old man, without a mustache and beard, which apparently had not been shaved off, and had never grown with him.",0,0.47651875,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 “You antiquated thing!”","I was scolded in vain.""",1,0.63250273,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 As he walked, Siddhartha also thought back on everything he had experienced in the garden of Jetavana: the doctrine he had heard there, the divine Buddha, bidding farewell to Govinda, his conversation with the Sublime One. He thought back on the words he had spoken to the Sublime One, on each of them, and with astonishment he realized he had said things that he had not yet really known. What he had said to Gautama—that his, the Buddha’s, treasure and secret was not his doctrine but rather the inexpressible, unteachable things he had experienced in the hour of his enlightenment—was precisely what he, Siddhartha, was now setting off to experience, was now beginning to experience. It was he himself he now had to experience. To be sure, he had known for a long time that his Self was Atman, of the same eternal essence as Brahman. But never had he truly found this Self, for he had been trying to capture it with a net made of thought. While certainly body was not Self—nor was it the play of the senses— this Self was also not thought, was not mind, was not the wisdom amassed through learning, not the learned art of drawing conclusions and spinning new thoughts out of old. No, even thought was still in this world; no goal could be reached by killing off the happenstance Self of the senses while continuing to fatten the happenstance Self of thought and learnedness. Thought and senses were both fine things. Ultimate meaning lay hidden behind them; both should be listened to, played with, neither scorned nor overvalued, for in each of them the secret voice of the innermost core might be discerned. He would aspire to nothing but what this voice commanded him, occupy himself with nothing but what the voice advised. Why had Gautama once, in the hour of hours, sat down beneath the bo tree where enlightenment struck him? He had heard a voice, a voice in his own heart, commanding him to rest beneath this tree, and he had not chosen to devote himself instead to self-castigation, sacrifice, ablution, or prayer, nor to eating or drinking, nor to sleeping or dreaming; he had obeyed the voice. Obeying like that, not external orders, but only the voice, to be ready like that—that was good, that was necessary, nothing else was necessary. ","To obey like this, to obey not a command from the outside but only the voice, to be in readiness—this was good, this was necessary. Nothing else was necessary.",1,0.63250273,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 Allons doucement, il faut la surprendre. [Is Marie exercising?","Allons doucement, il faut la surprendre. ’ 3 Prince Andrei followed her with a courteous but sad expression.",1,0.6329566,1
+"lexical = 100, order = 100 ""It's not only the accumulation of facts that threatens my client with ruin, gentlemen of the jury,"" he began, ""what is really damning for my client is one fact--the dead body of his father. Had it been an ordinary case of murder you would have rejected the charge in view of the triviality, the incompleteness, and the fantastic character of the evidence, if you examine each part of it separately; or, at least, you would have hesitated to ruin a man's life simply from the prejudice against him which he has, alas! only too well deserved. But it's not an ordinary case of murder, it's a case of parricide. That impresses men's minds, and to such a degree that the very triviality and incompleteness of the evidence becomes less trivial and less incomplete even to an unprejudiced mind. How can such a prisoner be acquitted? What if he committed the murder and gets off unpunished? That is what every one, almost involuntarily, instinctively, feels at heart. "" Yes, it's a fearful thing to shed a father's blood--the father who has begotten me, loved me, not spared his life for me, grieved over my illnesses from childhood up, troubled all his life for my happiness, and has lived in my joys, in my successes. To murder such a father--that's inconceivable. Gentlemen of the jury, what is a father--a real father? What is the meaning of that great word? What is the great idea in that name? We have just indicated in part what a true father is and what he ought to be. In the case in which we are now so deeply occupied and over which our hearts are aching--in the present case, the father, Fyodor Pavlovitch Karamazov, did not correspond to that conception of a father to which we have just referred. That's the misfortune. And indeed some fathers are a misfortune. Let us examine this misfortune rather more closely: we must shrink from nothing, gentlemen of the jury, considering the importance of the decision you have to make. It's our particular duty not to shrink from any idea, like children or frightened women, as the talented prosecutor happily expresses it. "" But in the course of his heated speech my esteemed opponent (and he was my opponent before I opened my lips) exclaimed several times, 'Oh, I will not yield the defense of the prisoner to the lawyer who has come down from Petersburg. I accuse, but I defend also!' He exclaimed that several times, but forgot to mention that if this terrible prisoner was for twenty-three years so grateful for a mere pound of nuts given him by the only man who had been kind to him, as a child in his father's house, might not such a man well have remembered for twenty-three years how he ran in his father's back-yard, 'without boots on his feet and with his little trousers hanging by one button'--to use the expression of the kind-hearted doctor, Herzenstube? "" Oh, gentlemen of the jury, why need we look more closely at this misfortune , why repeat what we all know already? What did my client meet with when he arrived here, at his father's house, and why depict my client as a heartless egoist and monster? He is uncontrolled, he is wild and unruly--we are trying him now for that--but who is responsible for his life? Who is responsible for his having received such an unseemly bringing up, in spite of his excellent disposition and his grateful and sensitive heart? Did any one train him to be reasonable? Was he enlightened by study? Did any one love him ever so little in his childhood? My client was left to the care of Providence like a beast of the field. He thirsted perhaps to see his father after long years of separation. A thousand times perhaps he may, recalling his childhood, have driven away the loathsome phantoms that haunted his childish dreams and with all his heart he may have longed to embrace and to forgive his father! And what awaited him? He was met by cynical taunts, suspicions and wrangling about money. He heard nothing but revolting talk and vicious precepts uttered daily over the brandy, and at last he saw his father seducing his mistress from him with his own money. Oh, gentlemen of the jury, that was cruel and revolting! And that old man was always complaining of the disrespect and cruelty of his son. He slandered him in society, injured him, calumniated him, bought up his unpaid debts to get him thrown into prison. ""Gentlemen of the jury, people like my client, who are fierce, unruly, and uncontrolled on the surface, are sometimes, most frequently indeed, exceedingly tender-hearted, only they don't express it. Don't laugh, don't laugh at my idea! The talented prosecutor laughed mercilessly just now at my client for loving Schiller--loving the sublime and beautiful! I should not have laughed at that in his place. Yes, such natures--oh, let me speak in defense of such natures, so often and so cruelly misunderstood--these natures often thirst for tenderness, goodness, and justice, as it were, in contrast to themselves, their unruliness, their ferocity--they thirst for it unconsciously. Passionate and fierce on the surface, they are painfully capable of loving woman, for instance, and with a spiritual and elevated love. Again do not laugh at me, this is very often the case in such natures. But they cannot hide their passions--sometimes very coarse--and that is conspicuous and is noticed, but the inner man is unseen. Their passions are quickly exhausted; but, by the side of a noble and lofty creature that seemingly coarse and rough man seeks a new life, seeks to correct himself, to be better, to become noble and honorable, 'sublime and beautiful,' however much the expression has been ridiculed. ""I said just now that I would not venture to touch upon my client's engagement. But I may say half a word. What we heard just now was not evidence, but only the scream of a frenzied and revengeful woman, and it was not for her--oh, not for her!--to reproach him with treachery, for she has betrayed him! If she had had but a little time for reflection she would not have given such evidence. Oh, do not believe her, no, my client, as she called him, did not ""monster""! The Lover of Mankind on the eve of His Crucifixion said: 'I am the Good Shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep, so that not one of them might be lost.' Let not a man's soul be lost through us! "" I asked just now what does 'father' mean, and exclaimed that it was a great word, a precious name. But one must use words honestly, gentlemen, and I venture to call things by their right names: such a father as old Karamazov cannot be called a father and does not deserve to be. Filial love for an unworthy father is an absurdity, an impossibility. Love cannot be created from nothing: only God can create something from nothing. "" 'Fathers, provoke not your children to wrath,' the apostle writes, from a heart glowing with love. It's not for the sake of my client that I quote these sacred words, I mention them for all fathers. Who has authorized me to preach to fathers? No one. But as a man and a citizen I make my appeal--_vivos voco! _ We are not long on earth, we do many evil deeds and say many evil words. So let us all catch a favorable moment when we are all together to say a good word to each other. That's what I am doing: while I am in this place I take advantage of my opportunity. Not for nothing is this tribune given us by the highest authority--all Russia hears us! I am not speaking only for the fathers here present , I cry aloud to all fathers: 'Fathers, provoke not your children to wrath.' Yes, let us first fulfill Christ's injunction ourselves and only then venture to expect it of our children. Otherwise we are not fathers, but enemies of our children, and they are not our children, but our enemies, and we have made them our enemies ourselves. ' What measure ye mete it shall be measured unto you again'--it's not I who say that, it's the Gospel precept, measure to others according as they measure to you. How can we blame children if they measure us according to our measure? "" Not long ago a servant girl in Finland was suspected of having secretly given birth to a child. She was watched, and a box of which no one knew anything was found in the corner of the loft, behind some bricks. It was opened and inside was found the body of a new-born child which she had killed. In the same box were found the skeletons of two other babies which, according to her own confession, she had killed at the moment of their birth. "" Gentlemen of the jury, was she a mother to her children? She gave birth to them, indeed; but was she a mother to them? Would any one venture to give her the sacred name of mother? Let us be bold, gentlemen, let us be audacious even: it's our duty to be so at this moment and not to be afraid of certain words and ideas like the Moscow women in Ostrovsky's play, who are scared at the sound of certain words. No, let us prove that the progress of the last few years has touched even us, and let us say plainly, the father is not merely he who begets the child, but he who begets it and does his duty by it. "" Oh, of course, there is the other meaning, there is the other interpretation of the word 'father,' which insists that any father, even though he be a monster, even though he be the enemy of his children, still remains my father simply because he begot me. But this is, so to say, the mystical meaning which I cannot comprehend with my intellect, but can only accept by faith, or, better to say, _on faith_, like many other things which I do not understand, but which religion bids me believe. But in that case let it be kept outside the sphere of actual life. In the sphere of actual life, which has, indeed, its own rights, but also lays upon us great duties and obligations, in that sphere, if we want to be humane--Christian, in fact--we must, or ought to, act only upon convictions justified by reason and experience, which have been passed through the crucible of analysis; in a word, we must act rationally, and not as though in dream and delirium, that we may not do harm, that we may not ill-treat and ruin a man. Then it will be real Christian work, not only mystic, but rational and philanthropic....""","I do not know how the news reached him: some one who had known him at home had seen his sister. She was in Paris, living in a poor street near Saint Sulpice, the Rue du Geindre. She had with her but one child, the youngest, a little boy. Where were the other six? She did not know herself, perhaps. Every morning she went to a bindery, No. 3 Rue du Sabot, where she was employed as a folder and book-stitcher. She had to be there by six in the morning, long before the dawn in the winter. In the same building with the bindery, there was a school, where she sent her little boy, seven years old. As the school did not open until seven, and she must be at her work at six, her boy had to wait in the yard an hour, until the school opened—an hour of cold and darkness in the winter.",0,0.4759098,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 At half past one, when we were back in the office after lunch, the sky seemed clearer, but only over the older parts of the city. I want to enjoy with myself the irony of not being surprised. I want the cilice to be judged like them. It would not be long before it covered the sun, and the sounds of the city seemed to grow muted in expectation. To the east, the sky was or seemed to be clearer, but the heat there was more oppressive. We were even sweating in the relative cool of the office. “There’s a big storm coming,” said Moreira, and turned a page in his ledger.","Near the estuary it was slightly overcast. To the north, however, the clouds had become a single black, implacable cloud, advancing slowly, reaching out its black arms and its blunt ash-gray talons.",1,0.6334103,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 “You will forget me,” he began again. “A dead man is not a friend to a living. Your father will tell you that, they say, what kind of person Russia is losing ... This is nonsense; but do not discourage the old man. And who is needed? A cobbler is needed, a tailor is needed, a butcher… he sells meat… a butcher… And be kind to my mother. No, she clearly doesn’t. Anything to keep a child happy… you know. You won’t find people like them in your big world even with a torch by daylight… Russia needs me… wait, I'm confused ... There is a forest here ...","I - that is, the diamond maker says - good; and I first wanted to say to myself that I was ill and could not get out of bed. Now, as the troublesome, necessary time has come, so the colds have attacked, the enemy take them! I also inform you that, to complete my misfortunes, His Excellency deigned to be strict, and they got angry and shouted a lot at Yemelyan Ivanovich, and in the end they were completely exhausted, poor things.",0,0.47542265,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 Well, as it’s all over now and everything is gradually returning to its former state, then I’ll tell you this, mother: you are worried about what they will think of me, to which I hasten to announce to you, Varvara Alekseevna, that my ambition is dearer to me Total. As a result, and informing you about my misfortunes and all these disorders, I inform you that no one from the authorities still knows anything, and will not know, so they will all respect me as before. I'm afraid of one thing: I'm afraid of gossip. At home, the hostess screams, but now, when I paid her part of the debt with the help of your ten rubles, she only grumbles, but nothing more. As for the rest, they are nothing; they just do not need to ask for a loan, otherwise they will do nothing. And in conclusion of my explanations, I will tell you, mother, that I consider your respect for me above everything in the world, and thus I now console myself in my temporary disturbances. Thank God that the first blow and the first troubles have passed and you have accepted it in such a way that you do not consider me a treacherous friend and selfish person for keeping you at my place and deceiving you, unable to part with you and loving you as mine. angel. Carefully now he set to work and began to correct his position well. Evstafy Ivanovich at least said a word when I passed by them yesterday. I will not hide from you, mother, that my debts and the poor state of my wardrobe are killing me, but this is nothing again, and I also beg you about this - do not despair, mother. Send me another fifty dollars, Varenka, and this fifty dollars has pierced my heart. So that's how it is now, so that's how it is! that is, it's not me, the old fool, I'm helping you, angel, but you, my poor little orphan, to me! Fedor did well that she got the money. For the time being, my mother, I have no hopes of receiving, and if any hopes are slightly revived, I will write to you about everything in detail. But gossip, gossip bothers me the most. Farewell, my angel. I kiss your hand and beg you to get well. I am not writing in detail because I am in a hurry to take up my post, because by diligence and diligence I want to make amends for all my faults in the omission in the service; I put off further narration about all the incidents and about the adventure with the officers until the evening.",I know how to save you.,0,0.47493562,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 Tomorrow, I was afraid that Yan would come out, so I invited him early. Chen Hou with wine and food, pay attention to Cha Yan. Having made an appointment to live in the same house, he resigned to being obsessed with sex. Rather not listen, he forced his bedding to come, but Yan had no choice but to move the couch and follow him, exhorting: ""My servant knows that I have my husband, and I will be careful with the wind. It is difficult to be indifferent. It is fortunate that I do not look at the room, and I will violate the two. Both are disadvantageous. "" Ning Jin was taught. Now that they were sleeping, Yan put the box on the window, and when the pillow was moved, it roared like thunder. Ning can't sleep. Nearly a while later, there was a shadow outside the window. He came closer to the window to peek, his eyes flashing. Ning fear, Fang wanted to call Yan, and suddenly something cracked and came out, shining like a training, touching the stone lattice on the window, and a shot, which suddenly converged, like an electric extinction. Yan woke up, and Ning Puppet fell asleep to meet him. Yan holds the crate for inspection, takes an object, smells the moon and looks at it, the white light is crystal clear, it can be two inches long, and the diameter is about the size of a leek. I am a swordsman. “My sword,” Yan replied. “When I sniffed it, there was the scent of demon on it.” When he was finished, he wrapped it thoroughly in several layers, and put it back inside the now-damaged chest. He said to himself, “What a thing that old demon is—coming here like that took some nerve, and now it’s ruined my chest.” If not for the stone around the window, the evil spirit would have been killed instantly; though it was certainly wounded.” Ning was astonished, so he got up to ask Yan about it, telling him everything he’d seen occur. Then he lay back down to sleep. Ning wanted to have a look at it. Ning asked, “What is that thing you keep sealed up?” Yan stated, “Since we’ve come to know each other pretty well, I can risk sharing the secret with you. The appearance showed, Yingyingran a small sword. So benefit thick and heavy swallow.","However, this subject does not come out easily. Even if it comes out, it is not easy to put on. Even if you put it on, it may be completely different from what exists in the natural world. Therefore, from the point of view of ordinary people, it cannot be regarded as a picture.",0,0.4748747,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 The visitors were seated, a conversation began, tea was served—and all that extremely decently, modestly, to the slight surprise of the visitors. As he was addressing the prince, the prince warmly praised him, though Lebedev whispered in his ear that this gentleman did not have a penny to his name and had never had any estate. One gentleman, seizing on a word, suddenly swore in extreme indignation that he would not sell his estate, whatever happened; that, on the contrary, he would wait and bide his time, and that “enterprises are better than money”; “that, my dear sir, is what my economic system consists in, if you care to know, sir.” There were, of course, several attempts to liven up the conversation and lead it to an “appropriate” theme; several immodest questions were asked, several “daring” observations were made. The prince answered everyone so simply and affably, and at the same time with such dignity, such trust in his guests’ decency, that the immodest questions faded away of themselves. The conversation gradually began to turn almost serious. Out of all the crowd, some seven or eight persons were found who did go in, trying to do it as casually as possible; but no more volunteers turned up, and soon the same crowd began to denounce the parvenus.","Which king, after all, hadn't tried his very best to conquer his neighbour? Every ruler in history had tried to subjugate another; victory and defeat were very much a part of their lives. It was entirely natural too, for those vanquished to cherish the deepest hatred towards their victors—even if such hatred was rather pointless.",0,0.47460076,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 "" Yes, sir,"" replied the lieutenant, and went on reading : ""The conduct of the war demands the cooperation of all classes in the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy. If we desire to attain the security of the state, all the nations must support each other and the guarantee for our future consists precisely in this mutual and spontaneous respect. The enormous sacrifices of our gallant troops at the front, where they are continually advancing, would not be possible, if the home front were not united, but harboured elements inimical to the harmonious structure of the state, undermining its authority by their malicious activities and thus threatening the joint interests of the nations in our Empire. At this historical juncture we cannot view in silence the handful of people who would like to impair the unified effort and struggle of all the nations in this Empire. We cannot silently overlook these odious signs of a diseased mentality which aims solely at destroying the unanimity in the hearts of the nations. Several times already we have had occasion to point out how the military authorities are compelled to adopt the severest measures against individuals in the Czech regiments who, heedless of glorious regimental traditions, by their disgraceful conduct in our Magyar towns have spread ill-feeling against the Czech nation which, in its entirety, is not to blame and, indeed, has always been closely identitied with the interests of this Empire, as is attested by the many distinguished Czech military leaders, such as the renowned Marshal Radetzky and other defenders of the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy. These noble figures are being besmirched by a few blackguards from the Czech rabble who are taking advantage of war conditions to enlist in the army and then imperil the united front among the nations in the monarchy, at the same time allowing their lowest instincts to run riot. Confiscated - Who drove Czech soldiers - Confiscated - - What dares foreign in our Hungarian homeland is best evidenced by the case in Királyhida, the Hungarian island over Lithuania. We have already drawn attention once to the rampage of the No… regiment in Debrecen, whose riots were shaken and condemned by the Pest Chamber of Deputies and whose regimental battalion was later at the front - Confiscated - Who is to blame for this heinous sin? What is the nationality of those troops from the Bruck military camp close at hand who attacked and ill-treated Mr. Gyula Kâkonyi, a tradesman in that town? It is obviously the bounden duty of the authorities to investigate this outrage and to ask the military command, which has doubtless already started making inquiries, what part in this unexampled bullying of Magyar citizens was played by Lieutenant Lukash, whose name is being mentioned in the town in connection with the recent disgraceful episode, as we are informed by a local correspondent who has already collected ample evidence on this matter which, at so grave an epoch as to-day, clamours for redress. We are sure that readers of the Pester Lloyd will follow with interest the further course of investigation and we shall certainly not fail to keep them acquainted with a matter of such eminent significance. At the same time, however, we await an official report on the outrage at Kiraly-Hida perpetrated against a Magyar citizen. It is obvious that the parliament at Budapest will give the matter its closest attention, in order to make it plain that Czech troops, passing through the kingdom of Hungary on their way to the front, must not be allowed to treat the country of St. Stephen's crown as if it were their vassal. If any members of this nation which at Kiraly-Hida made such an exhibition of the unified spirit prevailing among all nations in this monarchy, still do not realize how things are, they had better keep very quiet about it , for in wartime it is the bullet, the rope, the jail and the bayonet which will teach such persons to obey and to subordinate themselves to this highest interest of our joint country.""","“So, under the blanket, he counts slowly, with pauses: ‘One............ Two............. Three............’ When he finished counting to 10, he crawled out of the bunk and inspected his backpacks. ‘ Jesusmaria, people!” he started screaming. ‘They’re as empty as they were before.’",0,0.47426596,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 Oh darling of darlings!!! ... Well, goodbye now, goodbye now, but for God’s sake send me something in answer to this letter!","But enough of this subject, my darling; I did not really wish to speak of it, but got carried away a little in the heat of the moment. All the same, it is pleasant to do oneself justice from time to time. Goodbye, my darling, my little dove, my kind consoler! I will come and see you, I promise I will; I shall call on you, my treasure. And in the meantime, don’t pine. I shall bring you a book.",0,0.4741442,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 I, brother, speak allegorically. He loved debauchery, he also loved the shame of debauchery. In our town there were no such lanes, but there were moral ones. It has been said - Karamazov! But if you were what I am, you would understand what these mean. Loved cruelty: am I not a bug, not an evil insect? The ladies loved me, not everything, but it happened, it happened; but I have always loved alleyways, deaf and dark nooks and crannies behind the square - there are adventures, there are surprises, there are nuggets in the mud.","The upper-class ladies had a soft spot for me, not all of them, but some of them, some of them; but I always preferred the back alleys, the dark and lonely lanes behind the market-place – that’s where you’ll find the adventures, the surprises, the nuggets in the mire. I’m talking in allegories, brother. In that wretched little town where we were stationed there weren’t any real back alleys, but there were moral ones. Oh, if you were the kind of man I am, you’d know what I mean. I loved depravity, I loved the shame of depravity. I loved cruelty: after all, I’m a bedbug, am I not, an evil insect? In a word – a Karamazov!",1,0.63476974,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 On hearing this, Katerina Ivanovna rose in silence from where she was sitting, walked over to her writing table, unlocked a casket that stood upon it, took out a sheet of paper and placed it before Ivan. This sheet of paper was the very same document of which Ivan Fyodorovich later informed Alyosha as being the ‘mathematical proof’ that brother Dmitry had killed their father. It was a letter Mitya had written to Katerina Ivanovna while drunk, on the very same evening he had met Alyosha out on the open road as the latter was on his way back to the monastery after the scene at Katerina Ivanovna’s house, when Grushenka insulted her. That day, on parting from Alyosha, Mitya had gone rushing off to Grushenka’s; it is not known whether he actually saw her, but by nightfall he was in the Capital City inn, where he got well and properly drunk. In his intoxicated state he demanded pen and paper and scrawled a document that was to have important consequences for him. It was a frenzied, verbose and incoherent letter, truly ‘drunken’. Its effect was similar to when a drunk man, returning home, starts with extraordinary fervour to tell his wife or some other member of his household the manner in which he had just been insulted, what a scoundrel his insulter is and, on the contrary, what a fine fellow he himself is and the come-uppance he will deliver to that scoundrel – and all of it at excessive length, incoherent and excited, with a banging of fists on the table and with drunken tears. , I’ll get money tomorrow and pay you back the three thousand The piece of paper they gave him in the inn was a sheet of cheap notepaper, none too clean, on the back of which somebody had calculated what was probably his bill. and then it will be farewell, you woman of great wrath, but at the same time it will be farewell, my love! The letter ran as follows: Obviously the small sheet was not large enough for Mitya’s drunken prolixity, so he not only filled in all the margins but also scribbled the last lines across the top of what he had already written. Tomorrow, I’ll try to raise the money from everyone I can think of, but if I can’t get it from them, I give you my word I’ll go to see my father, smash his head in, and take the money from under his pillow, provided only that Ivan has left by then. FATEFUL KATYA I will go into penal servitude, but I will return the three thousand. And to yourself farewell. I bow down to the earth, for before you I am a scoundrel. Forgive me. No, you had better not forgive me: it will be easier both for me and for you! Better to penal servitude than your love, for I love another, and today you have come to know her all too well, so how can you forgive? I shall kill the man who is my thief! I shall go away from you all, to the East, so that I may know no one. Her neither, for you alone are not my tormentress, but she is, also. Farewell!","Darya Alekseevna picked up triumphantly. “Look, I dumped the money on the table, man!” The prince is getting married, and you have come to act outrageously!",0,0.4736268,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 The whole of the future is a mist that surrounds us, and when we glimpse tomorrow, it tastes like today. but which, although ours, are outside us, as things that it is up to our organic existence to deal with, things that only our biology need concern itself with. Once we fully adopt this attitude, which, in a way, is that of the mystics, we are defended not only against the world but also against ourselves, because we have conquered what is other, what is external and contrary to us and therefore our enemy. That’s what Horace meant when he spoke of the just man who remained unmoved even as the world crashed about his ears. The image may be absurd, but the truth of its meaning is indisputable. Even if what we pretend to be — because the real we and the pretend we coexist — even if it collapses around us, we must remain unmoved, not because we are just, but because we are ourselves, and being ourselves means having nothing to do with those external things collapsing about us even if, in falling, they destroy what we are for them.","We should think of them as the toothache or the corns of life, things that give us some discomfort",1,0.6354487,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 “Oh, I’ll never reach Peter this way. Who knows, maybe he doesn’t even like me and he doesn’t need anyone to confide in. Who knows, maybe he doesn't care about me at all and looks at the others so softly too. Oh, if only I could lay my head against his shoulder and not feel so hopelessly alone and forsaken! Oh Peter, if only you could hear or see me. Perhaps he never thinks more than superficially of me. I have to go on alone again, without trust and without Peter. Perhaps soon again without hope, comfort and expectation. Did I perhaps imagine that this was for me? If the truth is disappointing, I won’t be able to bear it.”","His order has produced forty popes, two hundred cardinals, fifty patriarchs, sixteen hundred archbishops, four thousand six hundred bishops, four emperors, twelve empresses, forty-six kings, forty-one queens, three thousand six hundred canonized saints, and has been in existence for fourteen hundred years. On one side Saint Bernard, on the other the agent of the sanitary department! On one side Saint Benoît, on the other the inspector of public ways!",0,0.47304863,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 40 M. Mabeuf never had any fire in his chamber, and went to bed at sundown, in order not to consume any candles. It is, of all distresses, the coldest. Still, Father Mabeuf had not entirely lost his childlike serenity. The wretchedness of a child interests a mother, the wretchedness of a young man interests a young girl, the wretchedness of an old man interests no one. Venetiis, in ædibus Manutianis; and lastly, a Diogenes Laertius, printed at Lyons in 1644, which contained the famous variant of the manuscript 411, thirteenth century, of the Vatican, and those of the two manuscripts of Venice, 393 and 394, consulted with such fruitful results by Henri Estienne, and all the passages in Doric dialect which are only found in the celebrated manuscript of the twelfth century belonging to the Naples Library. It seemed as though he had no longer any neighbors: people avoided him when he went out; he perceived the fact.","a Tibullus of 1567 with this splendid inscription: Venetiis, in aedibus Manutianis *, and lastly a Diogenes Laertius printed in Lyon in 1644 containing the famous variants of Vatican manuscript 411, dating from the thirteenth century, as well as those of the two Venice manuscripts 393 and 394 so fruitfully examined by Henri Estienne, and all the passages in Doric dialect that are only to be found in the celebrated twelfth-century manuscript belonging to the library of Naples. Monsieur Mabeuf never lit a fire in his room and went to bed at sundown so as not to burn any candles. It was as if he no longer had any neighbours – they avoided him when he went out, this he was aware of. The wretchedness of a child is of concern to a mother, the wretchedness of a young man of concern to a young girl, the wretchedness of an old man is of concern to no one. It is of all distresses the coldest. Still, Père Mabeuf had not entirely lost his childlike serenity.",1,0.63590103,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 a mere trifle:",And something else would be lit up too … —no! …,1,0.63590103,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 The baron knew no end of embracing Candide; he called him his brother, his deliverer. “Perhaps,” said he, “my dear Candide, we shall be fortunate enough to enter the town sword in hand, and recover my sister Cunégonde.” “Ah! that is all I desire,” replied Candide, “for I intended to marry her; and I hope I shall still be able to.” “Insolent fellow!” replied the baron. “You! you have the impudence to marry my sister, who bears seventy-two quarterings! Really I think you are very presumptuous to dare so much as to mention such an audacious design to me.” Candide, thunderstruck at the oddness of this speech, answered: “Reverend father, all the quarterings in the world are of no significance. I have rescued your sister from a Jew and an Inquisitor; she is under many obligations to me, and she wants to marry me. My master Pangloss always told me that all people are by nature equal. Therefore, I will certainly marry your sister.” “We will see about that, villain!” said the Jesuit baron of Thunder-ten-tronckh, and struck him across the face with the flat side of his sword. Candide in an instant drew his rapier, and plunged it up to the hilt in the Jesuit’s body; but in pulling it out, reeking hot, he burst into tears. “Good God,” cried he, “I have killed my old master, my friend, my brother-in-law. I am the best man in the world, and yet I have already killed three men; and of these three two were priests.”",The quiet course the whole affair had taken was not at all accelerated by the engagement.,0,0.47286603,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 100 Anna Fyodorovna lived very well, in a more wealthy style than one could have expected; but her fortune was mysterious and so were her pursuits. She was always in a bustle, was always full of business, she drove out and came back several times a day; but what she was doing, what she was in a fuss about and with what object she was busy I could never make out. She had a large and varied circle of acquaintances. Visitors were always calling upon her, and the queerest people, always on business of some sort and to see her for a minute.","It would perhaps be possible to explain her behavior by assuming that she didn't know what she was doing. I don't mean that in the sense used by defense councils in court to excuse thieves and murderers, but in the sense that she was overwhelmed by an emotion, which may have a tragic and fatal effect on a simple and sensitive person. Who knows, perhaps she fell in love until her dying day with the cut of his coat, with his hair parted in the Parisian style, with his perfect French—yes, French, of which she couldn't understand one word—with the romance he sang while accompanying himself at the piano. Yes, she could have fallen in love with a man such as she never knew existed before and had certainly never seen (besides, he was very handsome), fallen in love at once, desperately, totally, with his elegant manners, with his singing, with everything about him. I understand that this used to happen to serf girls in the days of serfdom and sometimes even to the most virtuous among them. I can see that very well and he who puts it all down to the humiliating position of serf girls deserves only scorn! Yet it's strange to think that a man like that should have had in him in his young years such a direct and irresistible power of fascination to sweep off her feet and drive to perdition a girl who was so pure and who was as different from him as a creature of another species from another world.",0,0.47247046,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 20 “That barbarian, who writes a tedious commentary, in ten books of rambling verse, on the first chapter of Genesis! That slovenly imitator of the Greeks, who disfigures creation by making the Messiah take a pair of compasses from Heaven’s cupboard in order to plan the world while Moses represents the Deity as creating the world with a word! You expect me to admire a writer who has spoiled Tasso’s hell and devil; who transforms Lucifer, sometimes into a toad, and at other times into a pigmy; who makes him say the same thing a hundred times over; who makes him argue theology : and who, by an absurdly serious imitation of Ariosto’s comic invention of fire-arms, has the devils firing cannon in heaven!","Only all this is somehow wrong, the point is not precisely that he is a prominent man, but now I am somehow not myself.",0,0.472075,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 20 I feel dreadfully upset. Listen what has happened here. I foresee something momentous. Judge yourself, my precious friend; Mr. Bykov is in Petersburg, Fedora met him. He was driving, he ordered the cab to stop, went up to Fedora himself and began asking where she was living. At first she would not tell him. Then he said, laughing, that he knew who was living with her. (Evidently Anna Fyodorovna had told him all about it.) Then Fedora could not contain herself and began upbraiding him on the spot, in the street, reproaching him, telling him he was an immoral man and the cause of all my troubles. He answered, that one who has not a halfpenny is bound to have misfortunes. Fedora answered that I might have been able to earn my own living, that I might have been married or else have had some situation, but that now my happiness was wrecked for ever and that I was ill besides, and would not live long. To this he answered that I was still young, that I had still a lot of nonsense in my head and that my virtues were getting a little tarnished (his words). Fedora and I thought he did not know our lodging when suddenly, yesterday, just after I had gone out to buy some things in the Gostiny Dvor he walked into our room. I believe he did not want to find me at home. He questioned Fedora at length concerning our manner of life, examined everything we had; he looked at my work; at last asked, “Who is this clerk you have made friends with?” At that moment you walked across the yard; Fedora pointed to you; he glanced and laughed; Fedora begged him to go away, told him that I was unwell, as it was, from grieving, and that to see him in our room would be very distasteful to me. He was silent for a while; said that he had just looked in with no object and tried to give Fedora twenty-five roubles; she, of course, did not take it. What can it mean? What has he come to see us for? I cannot understand where he has found out all about us! I am lost in conjecture. Fedora says that Axinya, her sister-in-law, who comes to see us, is friendly with Nastasya the laundress, and Nastasya’s cousin is a porter in the office in which a friend of Anna Fyodorovna’s nephew is serving. So has not, perhaps, some ill-natured gossip crept round? But it is very possible that Fedora is mistaken; we don’t know what to think. Is it possible he will come to us again! The mere thought of it terrifies me! When Fedora told me all about it yesterday, I was so frightened that I almost fainted with terror! What more does he want? I don’t want to know him now! What does he want with me, poor me? Oh! I am in such terror now, I keep expecting Bykov to walk in every minute. What will happen to me, what more has fate in store for me? For Christ’s sake, come and see me now, Makar Alexyevitch. Do come, for God’s sake, come.",What would that mean?,1,0.6370308,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 At this very time, that is, about the time Surikov “froze” the child, about the middle of March, for some reason I suddenly felt much better, and this went on for two weeks. I began to go out, most often at dusk. I loved the March twilight when it started to freeze and when the gas was lit; sometimes walked far. Once, at Shestilavochnaya, some ""noble"" overtook me in the dark, I didn't get a good look at him; he was carrying something wrapped in paper and was dressed in some short coat and an ugly little coat—easily out of season. When he drew level with the lantern, about ten paces ahead of me, I noticed that something had fallen out of his pocket. I hurried to pick it up - and there was time, because someone in a long caftan had already jumped up, but, seeing the thing in my hands, did not argue, glanced briefly into my hands and slipped past. This thing was a large, morocco, old device and a wallet stuffed; but for some reason I guessed at first glance that it contained anything but money. The owner was now some forty yards ahead of me, and was very soon lost in the crowd. ""I crossed to that corner and found a dirty dark staircase. I heard a man mounting up above me, some way higher than I was, and thinking I should catch him before his door would be opened to him, I rushed after him. he did not turn round. It was one of those large houses built in small tenements, of which there must have been at least a hundred. I ran after him, and began calling out; but as I knew nothing to say excepting 'hey!' ""When I entered the yard I thought I saw a man going along on the far side of it; but it was so dark I could not make out his figure. Suddenly he turned into the gate of a house to the left; and when I darted in after him, the gateway was so dark that I could see nothing whatever. And so it happened. The stairs were very short, their number was infinite, so that I suffocated terribly; the door was opened and closed again on the fifth floor, I guessed this three more stairs down. While I ran up, while I caught my breath on the landing, while I was looking for a call, several minutes passed. At last a woman opened the door to me, blowing up a samovar in a tiny kitchen; she listened silently to my questions, of course, did not understand anything and silently opened the door to the next room for me, also small, terribly low, with nasty necessary furniture and with a wide huge bed under the curtains, on which lay ""Terentich"" (thus called the woman) , it seemed to me, intoxicated. On the table a cinder was burning in an iron bedside lamp, and a half-damask stood almost empty. Terentyich mumbled something to me while lying down and waved at the next door, and the woman left, so that I had no choice but to open this door. I did so and entered the next room.","The lost passer-by was already walking forty paces in front of me and soon disappeared from sight behind the crowd. I ran and started shouting to him; but since apart from ""hey!"" I had nothing to shout, he did not turn around. Suddenly he darted to the left, through the gate of a house. When I ran into the gate, under which it was very dark, there was no one there. The house was of enormous size, one of those hulks that are built by swindlers for small apartments; in some of these houses there are sometimes numbers up to a hundred. When I ran through the gate, it seemed to me that in the right, back corner of the huge courtyard, it seemed as if a person was walking, although in the darkness I could barely distinguish. When I reached the corner, I saw the entrance to the stairs; the staircase was narrow, extremely dirty, and completely unlit; but it was heard that a man was still running up the stairs, and I set off on the stairs, hoping that until they unlocked him somewhere, I would catch up with him.",1,0.63725656,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 But then she'd received me before in her own place, without anybody else present, and she obviously could have said anything she wanted without having to meet me at Mrs. Prutkov's for that purpose. All she'd actually said to me the previous evening was: ""I'll be at Mrs. Prutkov's tomorrow at three. "" That was all. "" I kept repeating to myself. I also asked myself such foolish questions as ""What is better under the circumstances—boldness or timidity?"" ""How can I not be there at the time she fixed? But all these thoughts just flashed through my mind because there was something real that was making my heart pound, something that I couldn't define.","“If I am given a date, then how am I late for a date,” I thought. Stupid questions also flashed by, such as: “What is better for me now, courage or timidity?” But all this only flashed, because in the heart there was the main thing, and such that I could not determine. The day before, it was said: “Tomorrow at three o'clock I will be at Tatyana Pavlovna's” - that's all. But, in the first place, I was always received by her, in her room, alone, and she could tell me anything she liked without moving in with Tatyana Pavlovna; so why appoint another place with Tatyana Pavlovna?",1,0.63725656,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 “That’s what I thought.” ","Here it is, all written down.",0,0.47131118,0
+"lexical = 100, order = 100 The bed was in semi-darkness, shielded from the moon by a column, but from the steps of the porch a ribbon of moonlight stretched to the bed. And as soon as the procurator lost contact with what was around him in reality, he immediately set off along the luminous road and went along it straight up to the moon. He even laughed in his sleep with happiness, before that everything turned out perfectly and uniquely on the transparent blue road. He was accompanied by Bungui, and next to him was a wandering philosopher. They were arguing about something very difficult and important, and neither of them could defeat the other. They did not agree on anything with each other, and for this reason their dispute was especially interesting and never-ending. It goes without saying that today's execution turned out to be a pure misunderstanding - after all, the philosopher who invented such an incredibly absurd thing like the fact that all people are kind walked nearby, therefore, he was alive. And, of course, it would be absolutely terrible even to think that such a person could be executed. There was no punishment! No execution! That's the beauty of this journey up the ladder of the moon.",Did not have!,1,0.63770795,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 But now it occurred to him that Ivan might be with her now, especially on the eve of such a day. When he rang the bell and entered the stairs, dimly lit by a Chinese lantern, he saw a man descending from above, whom he recognized as his brother as he drew level. That, therefore, was already leaving Katerina Ivanovna.","But what is there to prevent me from imagining, for instance, that, while sitting locked up inside his house, waiting nervously and anxiously for his beloved to come, old Fyodor Karamazov might,",0,0.47110158,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 20 The letter pleased Cao Zhen, and he said, “This is heaven-sent help to aid me in an achievement.” Cao Zhen rewarded the messenger and bade him return to say that it was accepted. Then he called Fei Yao to his councils and said, “I have just had a secret letter from Jiang Wei telling me to act in a certain fashion.” But Fei Yao replied, “Zhuge Liang is very crafty, and Jiang Wei is very knowing. If by chance Zhuge Liang has planned all this and sent this man, we may fall into a snare.” “But Jiang Wei is really a man of Wei; he was forced into surrender. Why are you suspicious?” “My advice is not to go, but to remain here on guard. Let me go to meet this man, and any service I can accomplish will redound to your credit. After two or three trips, the army horses were stationed, which made people look out. At the time of the declaration that day, he reported: ""In the Xiegu Road, there are soldiers from Shu."" He was overjoyed, so he ordered Fei Yao to lead fifty thousand soldiers to look at the sloping valley and enter. If it succeeds, it will be returned to the governor; Self-support."" Fei Yao at once advanced, but before the troops of Shu got into contact with him, they retired. Fei Yao pursued. Then the troops of Shu came on again. Just as Fei Yao was forming up for battle, the Shu army retreated again. And these maneuvers were repeated thrice, and a day and a night passed without any repose for the Wei army. At length rest was imperative, and they were on the point of entrenching themselves to prepare food when a great hubbub arose all around, and with beating of drums and blaring of trumpets, the whole country was filled with the soldiers of Shu. Suddenly there was a stir near by the great standard, and out came a small four-wheeled chariot in which sat Zhuge Liang. He bade a herald call the leader of the Wei army to a parley. Fei Yao rode out and, seeing Zhuge Liang, he secretly rejoiced. Turning to those about him, he said, “If the soldiers of Shu come on, you are to retire and look out for a signal. If you see a blaze, you are to turn and attack, for you will be reinforced by Jiang Wei.” Then Fei Yao rode to the front and shouted, “You rebel leader in front there; how dare you come here again after the last defeat?” Zhuge Liang replied, “Go and call Cao Zhen to a parley.” “My chief, Cao Zhen, is of the royal stock; think you that he will come to parley with rebels?” Zhuge Liang angrily waved his fan, and there came forth Ma Dai and Zhang Ni and their troops with a rush. The Wei army retired. But ere they had gone far, they saw a blaze in the rear of the advancing host of Shu and heard a great shouting. Fei Yao could only conclude that this was the signal of Jiang Wei he was looking for, and so he faced about to attack. But the enemy also turned about and retired. Fei Yao led the pursuit, sword in hand, hastening to the point whence the shouting came. Nearing the signal fire, the drums beat louder than ever, and then out came two armies, one under Guan Xing and the other under Zhang Bao, while arrows and stones rained from the hill-tops. The Wei troops could not stand it and knew not only they were beaten, but beaten by a ruse. Fei Yao tried to withdraw his force into the shelter of the valley to rest, but the enemy pressed on him, and the army of Wei fell into confusion. Pressing upon each other, many fell into the streams and were drowned. Fei Yao could do nothing but flee for his life. Just as he was passing by a steep hill there appeared a cohort, and the leader was Jiang Wei. Fei Yao began to upbraid him, crying, “Faithless ingrate! I have haplessly fallen in your treachery and craftiness!” Jiang Wei replied, “You are the wrong victim; we meant to capture Cao Zhen not you. You would do well to yield!” But Fei Yao only galloped away toward a ravine. Suddenly the ravine filled with flame. Then he lost all hope. The pursuers were close behind, so Fei Yao with a sword put an end to his own life. Of the army of Wei many surrendered. The Shu army pressed home their advantage and, hastening forward, reached Qishan and made a camp. There the army was mustered and put in order. Jiang Wei received a reward, but he was chagrined that Cao Zhen had not been taken. “My regret is that I did not slay Cao Zhen,” said he. “Indeed, yes,” replied Zhuge Liang. “It is a pity that a great scheme should have had so poor a result.”",I can’t follow your line of reasoning.”,0,0.4709191,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 Yes, Gösta, it is certain that the old man talked about you, and this should now attract you to live. But I, Gösta, who is your wife, I tell you, you should simply go away and do your duty. You should not dream of being sent by God. Everyone dares to be, you see. You shall work without heroic deeds, you shall not shine and marvel, you shall make sure that your name does not sound too often on the lips of the people. However, think carefully before you return your word to Sintram! You have now acquired a kind of right to die, and life should not offer you much joy from now on. It was a time my desire to go home to the south, Gösta. You need never expect words of joy or hope from me. But now I shall stay. I shall force you to follow the weary path of duty. It seemed too much happiness for me, a sinner, to be your wife, and be with you through life. If you dare to live, I shall stop; but do not await any joy from that. All the sorrow and misfortune that we both have caused, I will put as a guard at our hearth. Can a heart that has suffered like mine love more? Tearless and joyless, I will walk beside you. Think carefully, Gösta, before you choose to live! It is the way of destruction that we shall walk. ""","If it were not sad, I would write something to you.",0,0.47061494,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 And the worst thing about it was that it showed my complete inadequacy for the task I had assigned myself. It proved to me that I was unable to resist even the most ordinary pitfalls and made all the words sound hollow that I had just been saying to Kraft about having within me a place that I could call my own and if I had three lives to live, I'd still find them not enough. What on earth, for instance, could have induced me to go to Dergachev's and start spouting all those inanities when I should have known in advance that I couldn't possibly explain anything to them so that it would make sense and that the best thing I could do was to keep my mouth shut? What a disgraceful lack of control! And after that there was Vasin trying to make me feel better by reminding me that I still had perhaps fifty years ahead of me and that therefore nothing was irretrievably lost. But I had thought of that argument myself three years before I heard it from Vasin, and indeed my ""idea"" was in part based on it. I can still find excuses for myself for putting aside my personal pursuits to help Versilov, but rushing around like a crazed rabbit, sniffing here and there and all over the place, and getting involved in all sorts of extraneous things—that was nothing but sheer stupidity. How ignominious! And I said all that so proudly! That argument does honor to this man's indisputable intelligence and is so strong because it brings up the simplest possible reason, and the simplest reasons are best grasped only in the end when everything else, wise and absurd, has been tried.","that was where, when all was said and done",0,0.4705845,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 “Please don’t rush off,” said Anna. - Do you want some tea? - She called. ","I sent a messenger, no – two!",0,0.47055417,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 0 When she had looked at them all, Xi-feng proceeded to make her dispositions. ‘This twenty here. I want you to divide yourselves into two shifts of ten. Your job every day will be to look after lady visitors and serve them tea. That’s all you have to do. Nothing else. ‘ This twenty here. I want you divided into two shifts like the others. Your job will be serving tea and meals to the family. Nothing else. ‘These forty. Again, two shifts. Your job is to look after the shrine: lighting fresh joss-sticks, keeping the lamps in oil, changing the drapes. You will also take turns by the spirit tablet, making offerings of rice and tea, kotowing when the visitors kotow, wailing when they wail. That is your job and nothing else besides. ‘You four are to look after the cups and plates and so forth in the ladies’ tea-room. If anything is missing, you share the responsibility between you and a quarter of the cost will be stopped out of each of your wages. ‘You four here are to look after the dinner-ware: bowls, wine-cups and the like. Anything missing will be stopped out of your wages. ‘ This eight here. I want you to take charge of all funeral offerings sent in from outside. ‘This eight. I want you to look after oil, candles, and paper-offerings. I’m going to put the whole lot in your charge; then whenever any is needed somewhere, you must go to wherever it is and supply them with whatever amount I tell you to. ‘This twenty here. I want you doing night duty by rota. You are to see that all the gates are locked and keep a look-out for fires. You’ll also be responsible for keeping the outside properly swept. ‘The rest of you are to be divided up between the different apartments. Each of you will be responsible for the things in your own apartment, from furniture and antique ware down to spittoons and dusters. If the tiniest sliver gets lost or broken, you will be held responsible and will be expected to make it good. ‘ Lai Sheng’s wife will make a general inspection every day, and if she catches anyone idling or gambling or drinking or fighting or being difficult, she will at once bring them to me for dealing with. And there will be no favouritism. If I find you’ve done something wrong, I shan’t care whether you’ve been in service here for three or four generations, it will make no difference to me. ‘ Well, now you all know the rules. From now on whenever any trouble occurs I shall know exactly who to hold responsible. ‘Those who are used to working with me at the other place always have a watch handy, and everything they do, no matter how small a thing it is, is done at a fixed time. You may not have watches, but at least there is a clock in your master’s drawing-room you can look at. So here are the main times to remember. Whenever there is any indent of any permits to be made or any report to be submitted, it should be done at 11.30 a.m. At ten o’clock I take my lunch. I shall see people with reports to make or tallies to collect up to, but not after, eleven o’clock. At seven in the evening, as soon as the paper-offerings have been burnt, I shall make a personal tour of inspection; and when I get back from it, I shall issue those on night duty with their keys. Then next day I shall be back here again at half past six. ‘I dare say we are all going to be a bit overworked during the days ahead, but I am sure your master will want to reward you all for your trouble when this is over.’",At half past six I shall come over to hear the roll-call.,1,0.6383846,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 ‘Yes,’ he thought, ‘that’s the answer. I’m doing the right thing. I have the solution. In the end some decision has to be reached. I’ve made up my mind. Leave well alone. No more shilly-shallying, no more backsliding. This is in everybody’s interests, not mine. I am Madeleine, I remain Madeleine. Woe to him who is Jean Valjean! It's not me anymore. If there happens to be someone called Jean Valjean at this moment, that’s his lookout! It’s not my concern. It’s a fateful name hovering about in the dark. If it stops and swoops down on someone, that’s just too bad!’","I am Madeleine, Madeleine I remain. Whoever Jean Valjean is, let him perish! He’s not myself any more. I don’t know that man, he’s nothing to do with me now.",1,0.63860995,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 20 I do not know how all this would have ended if a strange circumstance had not helped to bring us together. One evening when mother was sitting with Anna Fyodorovna I went stealthily into Pokrovsky’s room. I knew he was not at home, and I really don’t know what put it into my head to go into his room. Until that moment I had never peeped into it, though we had lived next door for over a year. This time my heart throbbed violently, so violently that it seemed it would leap out of my bosom. I looked around with peculiar curiosity. Pokrovsky’s room was very poorly furnished: it was untidy. Papers were lying on the table and the chairs. Books and papers! A strange thought came to me, and at the same time an unpleasant feeling of vexation took possession of me. It seemed to me that my affection, my loving heart were little to him. He was learned while I was stupid, and knew nothing, had read nothing, not a single book ... at that point I looked enviously at the long shelves which were almost breaking down under the weight of the books. I was overcome by anger, misery, a sort of fury. I longed and at once determined to read his books, every one of them, and as quickly as possible. I don’t know, perhaps I thought that when I learned all he knew I should be more worthy of his friendship. I rushed to the first shelf; without stopping to think I seized the first dusty old volume; flushing and turning pale by turns, trembling with excitement and dread, I carried off the stolen book, resolved to read it at night—by the night-light while mother was asleep.","Yes, Anna was a bad woman. Never did she let us alone. As to the exact motive why she had asked us to come and share her house with her I am still in the dark. At first she was not altogether unkind to us but, later, she revealed to us her real character—as soon, that is to say, as she saw that we were at her mercy, and had nowhere else to go. Yes, in early days she was quite kind to me— even offensively so, but afterwards, I had to suffer as much as my mother. Constantly did Anna reproach us; constantly did she remind us of her benefactions, and introduce us to her friends as poor relatives of hers whom, out of goodness of heart and for the love of Christ, she had received into her bosom.",0,0.47000673,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 100 “You ought to live as long as I have done,” he added, “and THEN you will see what men can be.” With that he requested me to give his proposal my favourable consideration—saying that he would not like me to take such an important step unguardedly, since want of thought and impetuosity often spelt ruin to youthful inexperience, but that he hoped to receive an answer in the affirmative. “Otherwise,” said he, “I shall have no choice but to marry a certain merchant’s daughter in Moscow, in order that I may keep my vow to deprive my nephew of the inheritance. ” —Then he pressed five hundred roubles into my hand—to buy myself some bonbons, as he phrased it—and wound up by saying that in the country I should grow as fat as a doughnut or a cheese rolled in butter; that at the present moment he was extremely busy; and that, deeply engaged in business though he had been all day, he had snatched the present opportunity of paying me a visit. At length he departed. For a long time I sat plunged in reflection. Great though my distress of mind was, I soon arrived at a decision.... My friend, I am going to marry this man; I have no choice but to accept his proposal. If anyone could save me from this squalor, and restore to me my good name, and avert from me future poverty and want and misfortune, he is the man to do it.",How could it be better to see people who are useless!,0,0.46998775,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 And then the idea presented itself to him that he would go to Katerina Ivanovna, lay before her the fifteen hundred roubles he still carried round his neck, and say, 'I am a scoundrel, but not a thief.' So here we have already a twofold reason why he should guard that sum of money as the apple of his eye, why he shouldn't unpick the little bag, and spend it a hundred at a time. That anxiety was just what he was suffering from--what is there improbable in his laying aside that money and concealing it in case of emergency? That was more important than carousing. If Fyodor Pavlovitch doesn't give the money,' he thought, 'I shall be put in the position of a thief before Katerina Ivanovna.' Why should you deny the prisoner a sense of honor? "" But time passed, and Fyodor Pavlovitch did not give the prisoner the expected three thousand; on the contrary, the latter heard that he meant to use this sum to seduce the woman he, the prisoner, loved. ' Could a Karamazov fail to understand it?","That is to say, things are to be attained only by putting forth one’s whole strength, since nothing short of one’s whole strength will bring one to the desired goal. Paul Ivanovitch, within you there is a source of strength denied to many another man. I refer to the strength of an iron perseverance. Cannot THAT help you to overcome?",0,0.46988514,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 In this room, hung with bluish wallpaper, everything was neat and tidy; it was furnished with some pretension to elegance, comprising a round table, a settee, a bronze clock under a glass dome, and in the gap between two windows a narrow wall mirror. Suspended from the ceiling on a bronze chain was a small, very quaint chandelier, festooned all over with glass reflectors. When the prince entered, Lebedeff was standing in the middle of the room, his back to the door. He was in his shirt-sleeves, on account of the extreme heat, and he seemed to have just reached the peroration of his speech, and was impressively beating his breast. His listeners consisted of a lad of about fifteen, a young girl of about twenty in mourning weeds with a baby in her arms, a thirteen-year-old girl also in mourning, full of laughter, who stretched her mouth wide open in the act of expressing her mirth, and finally an extraordinarily strange fellow of about twenty, reclining on the settee, rather handsome, swarthy, with long, thick hair, large black eyes and just a suggestion of sideburns and beard. This member of the audience, it would seem, kept interrupting and contradicting the orator, thereby apparently provoking the guffaws of laughter.","In the middle of the room, his back turned to the Prince, stood Mr Lebedev himself in a waistcoat – no frockcoat in the summer heat – pounding his chest and waxing lyrical on some subject.",1,0.63906056,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 But it all turned out to be easier than I expected. Another and better kind of bemusement awaited me, a finer and purer intoxication than I had sought in strong liquor. Vanity can be beguiling, gratitude can go to your head, affection can inspire delight. At the door good old Josef exclaimed happily, “Oh, Lieutenant Hofmiller, sir!” Swallowing hard, he almost pirouetted from one foot to the other in his excitement and looked up furtively — I cannot express it otherwise — as one gazes up at the image of a saint in church. “Please go straight into the salon! Fräulein Edith has been waiting for you, sir,” he whispered in the excited tones of a man ashamed of his enthusiasm.","It was a half-profile bust, slightly below life size, low-cut, with a veil draped around the shoulders and breasts, set in a broad, black, sloping frame decorated with a gold border at the edge of the canvas. Mrs. Chauchat appeared ten years older than she was, as is usual with dilettante portraits that want to be characteristic. There was too much red all over the face, the nose was badly marked, the color of the hair was wrong, too strawy, the mouth distorted, the special charm of the physiognomy not seen or not brought out, missed by coarsening its causes, the whole thing a rather bungled product when Portrait only distantly related to its subject.",0,0.4696419,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 “Yes, I don’t know how; only if equality, then equality. If you find that matchmaking is humiliating, then it is a thousand times more. There, rights and chances are equal, but here a woman is either a slave in the market, or a bait in a trap. Tell some mother or the girl herself the truth, that she is only busy with catching the groom. God, what a shame! But they all do just that, and they have nothing else to do. And what's terrible is to see sometimes completely young, poor, innocent girls busy with this. And again, if this were done openly, otherwise it would all be a hoax. “Ah, the origin of species, how interesting! Ah, Lisa is very interested in painting! Will you be at the exhibition? How instructive! And on triplets, and the performance, and the symphony? Ah, how wonderful! My Lisa is crazy about music. Why don't you share these beliefs? And on boats! .. ” And there is only one thought: “Take, take me, my Lisa! I am not here! ‘Just try your luck!’ he exclaimed, and, swallowing the last of his tea, proceeded to put away his utensils. Oh, what vileness and falsehood!” ","Well, at least try!.. ” Oh, the abomination! False! he concluded, and, having finished his last tea, he began to put away the cups and dishes.",1,0.63928574,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 He began watching Fyodor Pavlovitch, who was wearing his new striped-silk dressing-gown, which Mitya had never seen, and a silk cord with tassels round the waist. It was not a large room, and was divided in two parts by a red screen, ""Chinese,"" as Fyodor Pavlovitch used to call it. The word ""Chinese"" flashed into Mitya's mind, ""and behind the screen, is Grushenka,"" thought Mitya.","Then I accompanied you to the door, during which you were still in the same state of embarrassment, after which I was left alone with Mr. Lebeziatnikov and talked to him for ten minutes; then Mr. Lebeziatnikov went out and I returned to the table with the money lying on it, intending to count it and to put it aside, as I proposed doing before. To my surprise one hundred-ruble note had disappeared. Please consider my position. Mr. Lebeziatnikov I cannot suspect. I am ashamed even to refer to any such suspicion. I cannot have made a mistake in my calculations, because the minute before you came in I had finished my accounts and found the total to be correct. You will admit that when I recalled your embarrassment, your eagerness to leave and the fact that you kept your hands for some time on the table, and taking into consideration your social position and the habits associated with it, I was, so to say, horrified and compelled to entertain a suspicion entirely against my will—a cruel, but justifiable suspicion! I will go further and repeat that despite my positive conviction, I realize that I run a certain risk in making this accusation, but as you see, I could not let it pass. I have taken action and I will tell you why: solely, madam, solely because of your blackest ingratitude! How is this?",0,0.46943092,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 ""I know you would all like it to be Zhutchka. I've heard all about it."" Kolya smiled mysteriously. ""Listen, Karamazov, I'll tell you all about it. That's what I came for; that's what I asked you to come out here for, to explain the whole episode to you before we go in,"" he began with animation. ""You see, Karamazov, Ilusha came into the preparatory class last spring. Well, you know what our preparatory class is--a lot of small boys. They began teasing Ilusha at once. I am two classes higher up, and, of course, I only look on at them from a distance. I saw the boy was weak and small, but he wouldn't give in to them; he fought with them. I saw he was proud, and his eyes were full of fire. I like children like that. And they teased him all the more. The worst of it was he was horribly dressed at the time, his breeches were too small for him, and there were holes in his boots. They worried him about it; they jeered at him. That I can't stand. I stood up for him at once, and gave it to them hot. I beat them, but they adore me, do you know, Karamazov?"" Kolya boasted impulsively; ""but I am always fond of children. I've two chickens in my hands at home now --that's what detained me to-day. So they left off beating Ilusha and I took him under my protection. I saw the boy was proud. I tell you that, the boy was proud; but in the end he became slavishly devoted to me: he did my slightest bidding, obeyed me as though I were God, tried to copy me. In the intervals between the classes he used to run to me at once, and I'd go about with him. On Sundays, too. They always laugh when an older boy makes friends with a younger one like that; but that's a prejudice. If it's my fancy, that's enough. I am teaching him, developing him. Why shouldn't I develop him if I like him? Here you, Karamazov, have taken up with all these nestlings. I see you want to influence the younger generation--to develop them, to be of use to them, and I assure you this trait in your character, which I knew by hearsay, attracted me more than anything. Let us get to the point, though. I noticed that there was a sort of softness and sentimentality coming over the boy, and you know I have a positive hatred of this sheepish sentimentality, and I have had it from a baby. There were contradictions in him, too: he was proud, but he was slavishly devoted to me, and yet all at once his eyes would flash and he'd refuse to agree with me; he'd argue, fly into a rage. I used sometimes to propound certain ideas; I could see that it was not so much that he disagreed with the ideas, but that he was simply rebelling against me, because I was cool in responding to his endearments. And so, in order to train him properly, the tenderer he was, the colder I became. I did it on purpose: that was my idea. My object was to form his character, to lick him into shape, to make a man of him ... and besides ... no doubt, you understand me at a word. Suddenly I noticed for three days in succession he was downcast and dejected, not because of my coldness, but for something else, something more important. I wondered what the tragedy was. I have pumped him and found out that he had somehow got to know Smerdyakov, who was footman to your late father--it was before his death, of course--and he taught the little fool a silly trick-- that is, a brutal, nasty trick. He told him to take a piece of bread, to stick a pin in it, and throw it to one of those hungry dogs who snap up anything without biting it, and then to watch and see what would happen. So they prepared a piece of bread like that and threw it to Zhutchka, that shaggy dog there's been such a fuss about. The people of the house it belonged to never fed it at all, though it barked all day. (Do you like that stupid barking, Karamazov? I can't stand it.) So it rushed at the bread, swallowed it, and began to squeal; it turned round and round and ran away, squealing as it ran out of sight. That was Ilusha's own account of it. He confessed it to me, and cried bitterly. He hugged me, shaking all over. He kept on repeating ' He ran away squealing': the sight of that haunted him. He was tormented by remorse, I could see that. I took it seriously. I determined to give him a lesson for other things as well. So I must confess I wasn't quite straightforward, and pretended to be more indignant perhaps than I was. ' You've done a nasty thing,' I said, 'you are a scoundrel. I won't tell of it, of course, but I shall have nothing more to do with you for a time. I'll think it over and let you know through Smurov'--that 's the boy who's just come with me; he's always ready to do anything for me--'whether I will have anything to do with you in the future or whether I give you up for good as a scoundrel.' He was tremendously upset. I confess that at the same time I felt that, perhaps, I was too harsh, but what to do, that was my then thought. A day or two after, I sent Smurov to tell him that I would not speak to him again. That's what we call it when two schoolfellows refuse to have anything more to do with one another. Secretly I only meant to send him to Coventry for a few days and then, if I saw signs of repentance, to hold out my hand to him again. That was my intention. But what do you think happened? He heard Smurov's message, his eyes flashed. ' Tell Krassotkin from me,' he cried, 'that I will throw bread with pins to all the dogs--all--all of them!' ' So he's going in for a little temper. We must smoke it out of him.' And I began to treat him with contempt; whenever I met him I turned away or smiled sarcastically. And just then that affair with his father happened. You remember? You must realize that he was fearfully worked up by what had happened already. The boys, seeing I'd given him up, set on him and taunted him, shouting, 'Wisp of tow, wisp of tow!' And he had soon regular skirmishes with them, which I am very sorry for. They seem to have given him one very bad beating. One day he flew at them all as they were coming out of school. I stood a few yards off, looking on. And, I swear, I don't remember that I laughed; it was quite the other way, I felt awfully sorry for him, in another minute I would have run up to take his part. But he suddenly met my eyes. I don't know what he fancied; but he pulled out a penknife, rushed at me, and struck at my thigh, here in my right leg. I didn't move. I don't mind owning I am plucky sometimes, Karamazov. I simply looked at him contemptuously, as though to say, 'This is how you repay all my kindness! Do it again, if you like, I'm at your service.' But he didn't stab me again; he broke down, he was frightened at what he had done, he threw away the knife, burst out crying, and ran away. I did not sneak on him, of course, and I made them all keep quiet, so it shouldn't come to the ears of the masters. I didn't even tell my mother till it had healed up. And the wound was a mere scratch. And then I heard that the same day he'd been throwing stones and had bitten your finger--but you understand now what a state he was in! Well, it can't be helped: it was stupid of me not to come and forgive him--that is, to make it up with him--when he was taken ill. I am sorry for it now. But I had a special reason. So now I've told you all about it ... but I'm afraid it was stupid of me.""","I must own I felt I'd gone too far as I spoke, but there was no help for it. I did what I thought best at the time.",1,0.6395109,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 ‘It’s exactly a minute before death,’ the prince began with perfect willingness, carried along by memory and, it seemed, at once forgetting about everything else, ‘at the very moment he has climbed the short stepladder and has just mounted the scaffold. At that point he glanced in my direction; I looked at his face and understood everything ... But I mean, how is one to describe it? I should like it terribly, terribly much if you or someone else would paint it! Best if it were you! I thought at the time that a painting would be useful. You know, in this case everything must be portrayed as it was beforehand, everything, everything. He’d been living in prison, expecting his sentence to be at least a week hence; he had somehow been relying on the usual formalities, on the likelihood that the document would have to go somewhere and would take a week to come back. But then suddenly for some reason the procedure was curtailed. At five o’clock in the morning he was asleep. It was the end of October; at five o’clock in the morning it’s still cold and dark. The head gaoler came in, quietly, with a guard and cautiously touched him on the shoulder, the man raised himself on one elbow and saw the light: “What is it?” “The execution is at ten.” Half awake, he did not believe it, began to argue that the document would not come back for a week yet, but when he had completely woken he stopped arguing and fell silent - so it is told - then said: “All the same, it’s hard, coming all of a sudden ...”, again fell silent, and did not want to say any more. At this point three or four hours go by on the usual things: a priest, a breakfast at which he is served wine, coffee and beef (well, is that not mockery? I mean, think how cruel it is, yet on the other hand, as God is their witness, those innocent people are acting from purity of heart and are convinced that it is philanthropy) , then the dressing (do you know what dressing is like for a condemned man?), and at last he is taken through the town to the scaffold ... It seems to me he probably thought on the way: “There’s a long time, three streets to live yet; when I’ve gone along this one, there will still be another, and then yet another, where there’s a bakery on the right ... it will be a long time before we get to the bakery!” All around the crowd, shouting, noise, ten thousand faces, ten thousand eyes - all that has to be borne, and above all, the thought: “Look, there are ten thousand of them, and none of them is being executed, but I’m being executed!” Well, this is all as a preliminary. A short stepladder leads up to the scaffold; at this point, in front of the steps, he suddenly burst into tears, yet this is a strong and courageous man whom they say was a great villain. I presume it was like that. A priest was constantly at his side, in the tumbrel too, repeating something over and over that hardly penetrated the man’s consciousness, and when it did, only for a second. At last he begins to climb the steps; now his legs are tied and so he moves with short steps. The priest, who is doubtless an intelligent man, has stopped talking, and keeps giving him the cross to kiss. At the foot of the steps he was very pale, but when he had climbed them and stood on the scaffold he suddenly turned as white as paper, just like white writing paper. His legs had probably gone weak and numb, and then he felt nausea - as though his throat were being constricted, making it tickle - have you ever felt that, when you were frightened or at moments of great terror, when all of your reason remains but has no power any more? I think that if, for example, doom is inevitable, and the house is collapsing on top of one, one will have a sudden urge to sit down and close one’s eyes and wait for what may come next! ... It was at this very point, when this weakness was beginning, that the priest rather more quickly, with a swift gesture, suddenly began to put the cross right to the man’s lips without a word, a small cross, silver, four-pointed - doing so frequently, every minute. And as soon as the cross touched his lips, he would open his eyes, and again for a few seconds come to life again, as it were, and his legs moved forward. He kissed the cross avidly, hurried to kiss it, as though he were hurrying lest he forget to take something with him in reserve, just in case, but he would hardly have been aware of anything religious at that moment. And so it continued right up to the plank itself ... It’s strange that men seldom faint at these very last seconds! On the contrary, the brain is horribly alive and must work fiercely, fiercely, fiercely, like an engine in motion; I imagine various thoughts chattering, all unfinished, and perhaps ridiculous ones, too, irrelevant ones: “Look at that man staring - he has a wart on his forehead, look at the executioner, one of his lower buttons is rusty” ... and all the while you keep remembering; there is one point like that, which you cannot forget, and you must not faint, and everything moves and whirls around it, around that point. And to think that this goes on until the very last quarter of a second, when your head lies on the block, waits, and knows, and suddenly it hears above it the sliding of the iron! That you would certainly hear! If I were lying there I would make a special point of listening for it and hearing it! At that point there would perhaps only be one-tenth of a moment left, but you would certainly hear it! And imagine, to this day there are those who argue that when the head flies off it may possibly for a second know that it has flown off - what a conception! And what if it were five seconds? ... Paint the scaffold so that only the last stair can be seen clearly and closely; the condemned man has stepped on to it: his head, white as paper, the priest holding out the cross, the man extending his blue lips and staring - and knowing everything. The cross and the head - that is the painting, the face of the priest, of the executioner, of his two assistants and a few heads and eyes from below - all that may be painted on a tertiary level, as it were, in a mist, as a background ... That’s what the painting should be like.’","The priest has been with him constantly, riding with him in the cart, and talking all the time - though the man has scarcely been listening to him: and if he begins to listen, understands no more than a couple of words. That is how it is bound to be.",1,0.63996106,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 What else? That's right Then the last thing, the easiest thing: lie down in bed, pull two or three blankets tightly over your head and put the heavy feather bed over it so that you don’t hear anything about the detonation of the shot next door or on the street – that’s how Rittmeister Felber did it at the time . Anyway, that's plenty of work for two or three hours, because every letter should be neatly written so that nobody can accuse me of being scared or confused. At midnight he shot himself, no one heard a sound; They didn't find him until morning with his skull smashed. Disappear as inconspicuously as one lived inconspicuously. Under the blankets then press the barrel very close to my temple, my revolver is reliable, the day before yesterday I happened to freshly oil the slide. Leave nothing behind, no memory, no trace. : burn Edith's two letters, and all the letters and photographs! I knew I could rely on my revolver, for I happened to have oiled the bolt quite recently, and I knew I had a steady hand.","Ah, of course, burn Edith ’s two letters , in fact all letters and photographs. Leave behind nothing of myself, no memory, no trace. Disappear, as I had lived, as inconspicuously as possible. All the same, there would be more than enough to do in the two or three hours left to me, for each letter must be carefully written so that no one should be able to attribute my action either to fear or an unbalanced mind. Then the last, the easiest, thing of all: lie down in bed, pull two or three blankets closely over my head and pile the heavy eiderdown on top of them so that the detonation should not be heard in the next room or in the street — that’s how Captain Felber had done it. He had shot himself at midnight, and no one had heard a sound; it was not until next morning that they had found him with his brains blown out. Then press the barrel right up against my temple underneath the blankets.",1,0.6401861,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 So it proved to be. I did not know that evening that the morrow was his birthday. I had not been out of my lodgings for the past few days, and so there was no one from whom I could have discovered it. Annually upon this day he held a large gathering at his home, at which the whole town assembled. Such was the case even now. And lo, after the prandial feast he walked into the centre of the room, holding in his hands a document – a formal report to the police. And since the chief of police, his superior, was present, he at once read out the document to all the assembled people, and in it was a full description of his crime in all its details: ‘As an outcast I cast myself out18 from the midst of men,’ the document concluded. ‘God has visited me, and I want to suffer!’ With that, he produced and displayed upon the table all the evidence by which he thought to prove his crime and which he had preserved for fourteen years: the gold articles which had belonged to the murdered woman and which he had stolen with the motive of diverting suspicion from himself, her medallion and cross, which he had removed from around her neck – in the medallion there was a portrait of her betrothed – her notebook, and, finally, two letters: one from her betrothed to her, announcing his imminent arrival and her reply to this letter, which she had begun but not concluded, leaving it upon the table with the aim of posting it the following day. Why then did he save fourteen years instead of being destroyed as evidence? He took both letters with him - for what? But this business was not destined to be completed again. The authorities and the court could not but give a course to the case, but they also paused: although the things and letters presented made me think, it was decided here that if these documents turned out to be true, then the final accusation could not be made against on the basis of only these documents. And he could have all things from her herself, as an acquaintance of her and by proxy. I heard, however, that the authenticity of things was later verified through many of the acquaintances and relatives of the murdered woman, and that there was no doubt about that. And this is what happened: everyone was surprised and horrified, and no one wanted to believe, although everyone listened with extreme curiosity, but as if from a sick person, and a few days later it was completely decided in all houses and it was sentenced that the unfortunate man was mad ... Some five days later they all discovered that the sufferer had fallen ill and that there were fears for his life. With what illness he was affected I am unable to determine, it was said to be a tachycardiac disorder, but it became known that the council of doctors had, at his wife’s insistence, testified as to his mental condition also, and that they had drawn the conclusion that derangement had set in. I gave nothing away, even though everyone rushed to question me, but when I expressed a wish to visit him, I received lengthy abuse from them all, particularly his spouse: ‘It is you,’ she said to me, ‘who have upset him, he was gloomy enough before, but during this last year we have all noticed that he has been unusually agitated and has been doing strange things, and it is you who are at the bottom of it all, no one else; he has not been out of your lodgings for a whole month.’ And lo, not only his spouse but everyone in the town hurled themselves upon me and accused me: ‘It is all your doing,’ they said. I remained silent, and indeed I felt rejoicing within my soul, for I beheld the unfailing mercy of God towards the one who turns up against himself and takes the punishment upon himself. As for his derangement, I was unable to believe in it. I too was at last allowed to see him, for he himself had insistently demanded to say farewell to me. I entered, and saw immediately that not only his days but also his hours were numbered. He was weak and sallow of feature, his hands trembled, and he gasped for breath, but looked at me with tender piety and joy.","Both letters he had taken with him – to what end? To what end had he preserved them, instead of destroying them as incriminating evidence? And lo, what should happen: all were assailed by surprise and horror, and none would believe, though they had all listened to what he had to say with extreme curiosity, but as from a man who was sick, and several days later the matter was finally settled and verdict pronounced in every household – the unhappy man was deranged. The police and the court could hardly let the case rest there, but even they drew up short: though the articles and letters that had been submitted certainly made them reflect, here too it was decided that even if these documents turned out to be genuine it would none the less be hard to make a charge of murder stick on the basis of them alone. And then again, he might have received the gold articles from her as her friend and for safekeeping. As a matter of fact, I have heard it said that the authenticity of the gold articles was subsequently established by means of consultation with many friends and relatives of the murdered woman and that there were no doubts on the matter. But these proceedings too were fated to be left without completion.",1,0.6401861,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 - Oh! do not be afraid.""",Each bowl was served twice - and not in vain.,0,0.46809155,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 She seized the dagger with her hands, cutting them, but she could not stop me. I remember that a second, only a second, before the deed was accomplished, I had the terrible realization that I was killing a woman—a defenseless woman—my wife. “Afterward, in the prison, while a moral revolution was working itself out in me, I thought much about that moment—what I might have done—and I thought it all over. I felt, I remember, the momentary resistance of her corset and of something else, and then the sinking of the blade into the soft parts of her body.",How could I think of looking for it though! It had been several weeks since it was in my possession. What happened to me though?,0,0.46793956,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 The voice of the young scamp armed from head to foot, dominated the uproar. "" Hurrah! hurrah!"" he was shouting. ""My first day in armor! Outcast! I am an outcast. Give me something to drink. My friends, my name is Jehan Frollo du Moulin, and I am a gentleman. My opinion is that if God were a gendarme, he would turn robber. Brothers, we are about to set out on a fine expedition. Lay siege to the church, burst in the doors, drag out the beautiful girl, save her from the judges, save her from the priests, dismantle the cloister, burn the bishop in his palace—all this we will do in less time than it takes for a burgomaster to eat a spoonful of soup. Our cause is just, we will plunder Notre–Dame and that will be the end of it. We will hang Quasimodo. Do you know Quasimodo, ladies? Have you seen him make himself breathless on the big bell on a grand Pentecost festival! Corne du Père! ' tis very fine! One would say he was a devil mounted on a man. Listen to me, my friends; I am a vagabond to the bottom of my heart, I am a member of the slang thief gang in my soul, I was born an independent thief. I have been rich, and I have devoured all my property. My mother wanted to make an officer of me; my father, a sub–deacon; my aunt, a councillor of inquests; my grandmother, prothonotary to the king; my great aunt, a treasurer of the short robe,—and my father, a sub-deacon; my aunt, a member of the Court of Inquiry; my grandmother, prothonotary to the king; my great-aunt, a paymaster in the army; but I,—I turned Vagrant. I said this to my father, who spit his curse in my face; to my mother, who set to weeping and chattering, poor old lady, like yonder fagot on the and–irons. Long live mirth! I am a real Bicêtre. Waitress, my dear, more wine. I have still the wherewithal to pay. I want no more Surène wine. It distresses my throat. I'd as lief, corboeuf! gargle my throat with a basket.""",O- laughed rosily and roundly.,0,0.46696714,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 How it would all have ended I do not know , had not a curious incident helped to bring about a rapprochement. One evening, when my mother was sitting in Anna Thedorovna’s room, I crept on tiptoe to Pokrovski’s apartment, in the belief that he was not at home. Some strange impulse moved me to do so. True, we had lived cheek by jowl with one another; yet never once had I caught a glimpse of his abode. Consequently my heart beat loudly—so loudly, indeed, that it seemed almost to be bursting from my breast. On entering the room I glanced around me with tense interest. The apartment was very poorly furnished, and bore few traces of orderliness. On table and chairs there lay heaps of books; everywhere were books and papers. Then a strange thought entered my head, as well as, with the thought, an unpleasant feeling of irritation. It seemed to me that my friendship, my heart’s affection, meant little to him, for HE was well-educated, whereas I was stupid, and had learned nothing, and had read not a single book. So I stood looking wistfully at the long bookshelves where they groaned under their weight of volumes. I felt filled with grief, disappointment, and a sort of frenzy. I felt that I MUST read those books, and decided to do so—to read them one by one, and with all possible speed. Probably the idea was that, by learning whatsoever HE knew, I should render myself more worthy of his friendship. So, I made a rush towards the bookcase nearest me, and, without stopping further to consider matters, seized hold of the first dusty tome upon which my hands chanced to alight, and, reddening and growing pale by turns, and trembling with fear and excitement, clasped the stolen book to my breast with the intention of reading it by candle light while my mother lay asleep at night.","I was carried away by excitement and a strange enthusiasm, and I confessed everything to him.... Confessed that I longed to study, to know something, that it vexed me to be considered a little girl.... I repeat that I was in a very strange mood; my heart was soft, there were tears in my eyes— I concealed nothing and told him everything—everything—my affection for him, my desire to love him, to live with him, to comfort him, to console him.",0,0.46657214,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 At first, K. was astonished at this orderly explanation, but then, just as quietly as the painter, he said, “I think you're contradicting yourself.” “How's that?” asked the painter patiently, leaning back with a smile. This smile made K. feel as if he were examining not the words of the painter but seeking out inconsistencies in the procedures of the court itself. Nonetheless, he continued unabashed and said, “You remarked earlier that the court cannot be approached with reasoned proofs, you later restricted this to the open court, and now you go so far as to say that an innocent man needs no assistance in court. That entails a contradiction. Moreover, you said earlier that the judges can be influenced personally but now you insist that an absolute acquittal, as you call it, can never be attained through personal influence. That entails a second contradiction.” “It's quite easy to clear up these contradictions,” said the painter. “We're talking about two different things here, there's what it says in the law and there's what I know from my own experience , you shouldn't get the two confused. I've never seen it in writing, but the law does, of course, say on the one hand that the innocent will be set free, but on the other hand it doesn't say that the judges can be influenced. But in my experience it's the other way round. I don't know of any absolute acquittals but I do know of many times when a judge has been influenced. It's possible, of course, that there was no innocence in any of the cases I know about. But is that likely? Not a single innocent defendant in so many cases? When I was a boy I used to listen closely to my father when he told us about court cases at home, and the judges that came to his studio talked about the court, in our circles nobody talks about anything else; I hardly ever got the chance to go to court myself but always made use of it when I could, I've listened to countless trials at important stages in their development, I've followed them closely as far as they could be followed, and I have to say that I've never seen a single acquittal.” “So. Not a single acquittal,” said K., as if talking to himself and his hopes. “That confirms the impression I already have of the court. So there's no point in it from this side either. They could replace the whole court with a single hangman.” “You shouldn't generalise,” said the painter, dissatisfied, “I've only been talking about my own experience.” “Well that's enough,” said K., “or have you heard of any acquittals that happened earlier?” “They say there have been some acquittals earlier,” the painter answered, “but it's very hard to be sure about it. The courts don't make their final conclusions public, not even the judges are allowed to know about them, so that all we know about these earlier cases are just legends. But most of them did involve absolute acquittals, you can believe that, but they can't be proved. On the other hand, you shouldn't forget all about them either, I'm sure there is some truth to them, and they are very beautiful, I've painted a few pictures myself depicting these legends.” “My assessment will not be altered by mere legends,” said K. “I don't suppose it's possible to cite these legends in court, is it?” The painter laughed. “No, you can't cite them in court,” he said. “Then there's no point in talking about them,” said K., he wanted, for the time being, to accept anything the painter told him, even if he thought it unlikely or contradicted what he had been told by others. He did not now have the time to examine the truth of everything the painter said or even to disprove it, he would have achieved as much as he could if the painter would help him in any way even if his help would not be decisive. As a result, he said, “So let's pay no more attention to absolute acquittal, but you mentioned two other possibilities.” “Apparent acquittal and deferment. They're the only possibilities,” said the painter. “But before we talk about them, would you not like to take your coat off? You must be hot.” “Yes,” said K., who until then had paid attention to nothing but the painter's explanations, but now that he had had the heat pointed out to him his brow began to sweat heavily. “It's almost unbearable.” The painter nodded as if he understood K.'s discomfort very well. “Could we not open the window?” asked K. “No,” said the painter. “It's only a fixed pane of glass, it can't be opened.” K. now realised that all this time he had been hoping the painter would suddenly go over to the window and pull it open. He had prepared himself even for the fog that he would breathe in through his open mouth. The thought that here he was entirely cut off from the air made him feel dizzy. He tapped lightly on the bedspread beside him and, with a weak voice, said, “That is very inconvenient and unhealthy.” “Oh no,” said the painter in defence of his window, “as it can't be opened this room retains the heat better than if the window were double glazed, even though it's only a single pane. There's not much need to air the room as there's so much ventilation through the gaps in the wood, but when I do want to I can open one of my doors, or even both of them.” K. was slightly consoled by this explanation and looked around to see where the second door was. The painter saw him do so and said, “It's behind you, I had to hide it behind the bed.” Only then was K. able to see the little door in the wall. “It's really much too small for a studio here,” said the painter, as if he wanted to anticipate an objection K. would make. “I had to arrange things as well as I could. That's obviously a very bad place for the bed, in front of the door. For instance when the judge I'm painting at present comes he always comes through the door by the bed, and I've even given him a key to this door so that he can wait for me here in the studio when I'm not home. Although nowadays he usually comes early in the morning when I'm still asleep. And of course, it always wakes me up when I hear the door opened beside the bed, however fast asleep I am. If you could hear the way I curse him as he climbs over my bed in the morning you'd lose all respect for judges. I suppose I could take the key away from him but that'd only make things worse. It only takes a tiny effort to break any of the doors here off their hinges.” All the time the painter was speaking, K. was considering whether he should take off his coat, but he finally realised that, if he didn't do so, he would be quite unable to stay here any longer, so he took off his frock coat and lay it on his knee so that he could put it back on again as soon as the conversation was over. He had hardly done this when one of the girls called out, “Now he's taken his coat off!” and they could all be heard pressing around the gaps in the planks to see the spectacle for themselves. “The girls think I'm going to paint your portrait,” said the painter, “and that's why you're taking your coat off.” “I see,” said K., only slightly amused by this, as he felt little better than he had before even though he now sat in his shirtsleeves. With some irritation he asked, “What did you say the two other possibilities were?” He had already forgotten the terms used. “Apparent acquittal and deferment,” said the painter. “It's up to you which one you choose. You can get either of them if I help you, but it'll take some effort of course, the difference between them is that apparent acquittal needs concentrated effort for a while and that deferment takes much less effort but it has to be sustained. Now then, apparent acquittal. If that's what you want I'll write down an assertion of your innocence on a piece of paper. The text for an assertion of this sort was passed down to me from my father and it's quite unassailable. I take this assertion round to the judges I know. So I'll start off with the one I'm currently painting, and put the assertion to him when he comes for his sitting this evening. I'll lay the assertion in front of him, explain that you're innocent and give him my personal guarantee of it. And that's not just a superficial guarantee, it's a real one and it's binding.” The painter's eyes seemed to show some reproach of K. for wanting to impose that sort of responsibility on him. “That would be very kind of you"", said K. “And would the judge then believe you and nonetheless not pass an absolute acquittal?” “It's like I just said,” answered the painter. “And anyway, it's not entirely sure that all the judges would believe me, many of them, for instance, might want me to bring you to see them personally. So then you'd have to come along too. But at least then, if that happens, the matter is half way won, especially as I'd teach you in advance exactly how you'd need to act with the judge concerned, of course. What also happens, though, is that there are some judges who'll turn me down in advance, and that's worse. I'll certainly make several attempts, but still, we'll have to forget about them, but at least we can afford to do that as no one judge can pass the decisive verdict. Then when I've got enough judges' signatures on this document I take it to the judge who's concerned with your case. I might even have his signature already, in which case things develop a bit quicker than they would do otherwise. But there aren't usually many hold ups from then on, and that's the time that the defendant can feel most confident. It's odd, but true, that people feel more confidence in this time than they do after they've been acquitted. There's no particular exertion needed now. When he has the document asserting the defendant's innocence, guaranteed by a number of other judges, the judge can acquit you without any worries, and although there are still several formalities to be gone through there's no doubt that that's what he'll do as a favour to me and several other acquaintances. You, however, walk out the court and you're free.” “So, then I'll be free,” said K., hesitantly. “That's right,” said the painter, “but only apparently free or, to put it a better way, temporarily free, as the most junior judges, the ones I know, they don't have the right to give the final acquittal. Only the highest judge can do that, in the court that's quite of reach for you, for me and for all of us. We don't know how things look there and, incidentally, we don't want to know. The right to acquit people is a major privilege and our judges don't have it, but they do have the right to free people from the indictment. That's to say, if they're freed in this way then for the time being the charge is withdrawn but it's still hanging over their heads and it only takes an order from higher up to bring it back into force. And as I'm in such good contact with the court I can also tell you how the difference between absolute and apparent acquittal is described, just in a superficial way, in the directives to the court offices. If there's an absolute acquittal all proceedings should stop, everything disappears from the process, not just the indictment but the trial and even the acquittal disappears, everything just disappears. With an apparent acquittal it's different. When that happens, nothing has changed except that the case for your innocence, for your acquittal and the grounds for the acquittal have been made stronger. Apart from that, proceedings go on as before, the court offices continue their business and the case gets passed to higher courts, gets passed back down to the lower courts and so on, backwards and forwards, sometimes faster, sometimes slower, to and fro. It's impossible to know exactly what's happening while this is going on. Seen from outside it can sometimes seem that everything has been long since forgotten, the documents have been lost and the acquittal is complete. No-one familiar with the court would believe it. No documents ever get lost, the court forgets nothing. One day—no-one expects it—some judge or other picks up the documents and looks more closely at them, he notices that this particular case is still active, and orders the defendant's immediate arrest. I've been talking here as if there's a long delay between apparent acquittal and re-arrest, that is quite possible and I do know of cases like that, but it's just as likely that the defendant goes home after he's been acquitted and finds somebody there waiting to re-arrest him. Then, of course, his life as a free man is at an end.” “And does the trial start over again?” asked K., finding it hard to believe. “The trial will always start over again,” said the painter, “but there is, once again as before, the possibility of getting an apparent acquittal. Once again, the accused has to muster all his strength and mustn't give up.” The painter said that last phrase possibly as a result of the impression that K., whose shoulders had dropped somewhat, gave on him. “But to get a second acquittal,” asked K., as if in anticipation of further revelations by the painter, “is that not harder to get than the first time?” “As far as that's concerned,” answered the painter, “there's nothing you can say for certain. You mean, do you, that the second arrest would have an adverse influence on the judge and the verdict he passes on the defendant? That's not how it happens. When the acquittal is passed the judges are already aware that re-arrest is likely. So when it happens it has hardly any effect. But there are countless other reasons why the judges' mood and their legal acumen in the case can be altered, and efforts to obtain the second acquittal must therefore be suited to the new conditions, and generally just as vigorous as the first.” “But this second acquittal will once again not be final,” said K., shaking his head. “Of course not,” said the painter, “the second acquittal is followed by the third arrest, the third acquittal by the fourth arrest and so on. That's what is meant by the term apparent acquittal.” K. was silent. “You clearly don't think an apparent acquittal offers much advantage,” said the painter, “perhaps deferment would suit you better. Would you like me to explain what deferment is about?” K. nodded. The painter had leant back and spread himself out in his chair, his nightshirt was wide open, he had pushed his hand inside and was stroking his breast and his sides. “Deferment,” said the painter, looking vaguely in front of himself for a while as if trying to find a perfectly appropriate explanation, “deferment consists of keeping proceedings permanently in their earliest stages. To do that, the accused and those helping him need to keep in continuous personal contact with the court, especially those helping him. I repeat, this doesn't require so much effort as getting an apparent acquittal, but it probably requires a lot more attention. You must never let the trial out of your sight, you have to go and see the appropriate judge at regular intervals as well as when something in particular comes up and , whatever you do, you have to try and remain friendly with him; if you don't know the judge personally you have to influence him through the judges you do know, and you have to do it without giving up on the direct discussions. As long as you don't fail to do any of these things you can be reasonably sure the trial won't get past its first stages. The trial doesn't stop, but the defendant is almost as certain of avoiding conviction as if he'd been acquitted. Compared with an apparent acquittal, deferment has the advantage that the defendant's future is less uncertain, he's safe from the shock of being suddenly re-arrested and doesn't need to fear the exertions and stress involved in getting an apparent acquittal just when everything else in his life would make it most difficult. Deferment does have certain disadvantages of its own though, too, and they shouldn't be under-estimated. I don't mean by this that the defendant is never free, he's never free in the proper sense of the word with an apparent acquittal either. There's another disadvantage. Proceedings can't be prevented from moving forward unless there are some at least ostensible reasons given. So something needs to seem to be happening when looked at from the outside. This means that from time to time various injunctions have to be obeyed, the accused has to be questioned, investigations have to take place and so on. The trial's been artificially constrained inside a tiny circle, and it has to be continuously spun round within it. And that, of course, brings with it certain unpleasantnesses for the accused, although you shouldn't imagine they're all that bad. All of this is just for show, the interrogations, for instance, they're only very short, if you ever don't have the time or don't feel like going to them you can offer an excuse, with some judges you can even arrange the injunctions together a long time in advance, in essence all it means is that, as the accused, you have to report to the judge from time to time.” Even while the painter was speaking those last words K. had laid his coat over his arm and had stood up. Immediately, from outside the door, there was a cry of 'He's standing up now!'. “Are you leaving already?” asked the painter, who had also stood up. “It must be the air that's driving you out. I'm very sorry about that. There's still a lot I need to tell you. I have had to express myself very briefly. but I hope at least it was all clear.” “Oh yes,” said K., whose head was aching from the effort of listening. Despite this affirmation the painter summed it all up once more, as if he wanted to give K. something to console him on his way home. “Both have in common that they prevent the defendant being convicted,” he said. “But they also prevent his being properly acquitted,” said K. quietly, as if ashamed to acknowledge it. “You've got it, in essence,” said the painter quickly. K. placed his hand on his winter overcoat but could not bring himself to put it on. Most of all he would have liked to pack everything together and run out to the fresh air. Not even the girls could induce him to put his coat on, even though they were already loudly telling each other that he was doing so. The painter still had to interpret K.'s mood in some way, so he said, “I expect you've deliberately avoided deciding between my suggestions yet. That's good. I would even have advised against making a decision straight away. There's no more than a hair's breadth of difference between the advantages and disadvantages. Everything has to be carefully weighed up. But the most important thing is you shouldn't lose too much time.” “I'll come back here again soon,” said K., who had suddenly decided to put his frock coat on, threw his overcoat over his shoulder and hurried over to the door behind which the girls now began to scream. K. thought he could even see the screaming girls through the door. “Well, you'll have to keep your word,” said the painter, who had not followed him, “otherwise I'll to the bank to ask about it myself.” “Will you open this door for me,” said K. pulling at the handle which, as he noticed from the resistance, was being held tightly by the girls on the other side. “Do you want to be bothered by the girls?” asked the painter. “It's better if you use the other way out,” he said, pointing to the door behind the bed. K. agreed to this and jumped back to the bed. But instead of opening that door the painter crawled under the bed and from underneath it asked K., “Just a moment more, would you not like to see a picture I could sell to you?” K. did not want to be impolite, the painter really had taken his side and promised to help him more in the future, and because of K.'s forgetfulness there had been no mention of any payment for the painter's help, so K. could not turn him down now and allowed him to show him the picture, even though he was quivering with impatience to get out of the studio. From under the bed, the painter withdrew a pile of unframed paintings. They were so covered in dust that when the painter tried to blow it off the one on top the dust swirled around in front of K.'s eyes, robbing him of breath for some time. “Moorland landscape,” said the painter passing the picture to K. It showed two sickly trees, well separated from each other in dark grass. In the background there was a multi-coloured sunset. “That's nice,” said K. “I'll buy it.” K. expressed himself in this curt way without any thought, so he was glad when the painter did not take this amiss and picked up a second painting from the floor. “This is a counterpart to the first picture,” said the painter. Perhaps it had been intended as a counterpart, but there was not the slightest difference to be seen between it and the first picture, there were the trees, there the grass and there the sunset. But this was of little importance to K. “They are beautiful landscapes,” he said, “I'll buy them both and hang them in my office.” “You seem to like this subject,” said the painter, picking up a third painting, “good job I've still got another, similar picture here.” The picture though, was not similar, rather it was exactly the same moorland landscape. The painter was fully exploiting this opportunity to sell off his old pictures. “I'll take this one too,” said K. “How much do the three paintings cost?” “We can talk about that next time,” said the painter. “You're in a hurry now, and we'll still be in contact. And besides, I'm glad you like the paintings, I'll give you all the paintings I've got down here. They're all moorland landscapes, I've painted a lot of moorland landscapes. A lot of people don't like that sort of picture because they're too gloomy, but there are others, and you're one of them, who love gloomy themes.” But K. was not in the mood to hear about the professional experiences of this painter cum beggar. “Wrap them all up!” he called out, interrupting the painter as he was speaking, “my servant will come to fetch them in the morning.” “There's no need for that,” said the painter. “I expect I can find a porter for you who can go with you now.” And, at last, he leant over the bed and unlocked the door. “Just step on the bed, don't worry about that,” said the painter, “that's what everyone does who comes in here.” Even without this invitation, K. had shown no compunction in already placing his foot in the middle of the bed covers, then he looked out through the open door and drew his foot back again. “What is that?” he asked the painter. “What are you so surprised at?” he asked, surprised in his turn. “Those are court offices. Didn't you know there are court offices here? There are court offices in almost every attic, why should this building be any different? Even my studio is actually one of the court offices but the court put it at my disposal.” It was not so much finding court offices even here that shocked K., he was mainly shocked at himself, at his own na�vety in court matters. It seemed to him that one of the most basic rules governing how a defendant should behave was always to be prepared, never allow surprises, never to look, unsuspecting, to the right when the judge stood beside him to his left—and this was the very basic rule that he was continually violating. A long corridor extended in from of him, air blew in from it which, compared with the air in the studio, was refreshing. There were benches set along each side of the corridor just as in the waiting area for the office he went to himself. There seemed to be precise rules governing how offices should be equipped. There did not seem to be many people visiting the offices that day. There was a man there, half sitting, half laying, his face was buried in his arm on the bench and he seemed to be sleeping; another man was standing in the half-dark at the end of the corridor. K. now climbed over the bed, the painter followed him with the pictures. They soon came across a servant of the court—K. was now able to recognise all the servants of the court from the gold buttons they wore on their civilian clothes below the normal buttons—and the painter instructed him to go with K. carrying the pictures. K. staggered more than he walked, his handkerchief pressed over his mouth. They had nearly reached the exit when the girls stormed in on them, so K. had not been able to avoid them. They had clearly seen that the second door of the studio had been opened and had gone around to impose themselves on him from this side. “I can't come with you any further!” called out the painter with a laugh as the girls pressed in. “Goodbye, and don't hesitate too long!” K. did not even look round at him. Once on the street he took the first cab he came across. He now had to get rid of the servant, whose gold button continually caught his eye even if it caught no-one else's. As a servant, the servant of the court was going to sit on the coach-box. But K. chased him down from there. It was already well into the afternoon when K. arrived in front of the bank. He would have liked to leave the pictures in the cab but feared there might be some occasion when he would have to let the painter see he still had them. So he had the pictures taken to his office and locked them in the lowest drawer of his desk so that he could at least keep them safe from the deputy director's view for the next few days.",I had to put everything very briefly,1,0.64243245,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 “It’s not exactly like that with me,” he began simply and modestly. - However, I confess that you have stated it almost correctly, even, if you like, and quite correctly ... (It was certainly pleasant for him to agree that it was absolutely true.) The only difference is that I do not insist that extraordinary people were always doing all sorts of atrocities, as you say. It even seems to me that such an article would not have been missed in print. I simply hinted that an ""extraordinary"" person has the right ... that is, not an official right, but he himself has the right to allow his conscience to step over ... other obstacles, and only if the implementation of his idea (sometimes saving, maybe , for all mankind) will require it. You deign to say that my article is unclear; I am ready to explain it to you, if possible. I may not be mistaken in assuming that you seem to want that; please, sir. In my opinion, if the discoveries of Kepler and Newton could in no way have become known to people other than through the sacrifice of the lives of one, ten, a hundred, and so on, people who interfered with their discoveries or who were obstacles blocking their way, then Newton had the right, and was even obligated to . . . eliminate those ten or a hundred people in order to make his discoveries known to all humanity. This has all been written and read a thousand times. at least the lawgivers and trailblazers of humanity, beginning with the ancients, continuing with Lycurgus, the Solons, Mohammeds, Napoleons, and so forth, each and every one of them, were criminals, just by virtue of the fact that in propagating new laws, they were at the same time destroying the old laws viewed as sacred by society and handed down by their fathers. Of course, they didn’t hesitate even to shed blood, if that blood (sometimes completely innocent and valiantly shed in defense of the old laws) would help them. Otherwise it would be difficult for them to break out of the rut, and, of course, they can’t agree to remain in the rut, again, by their very nature; but in my opinion, they’re even obligated not to agree to stay there. From this it in no way follows that Newton had the right to kill anyone and everyone he pleased, or to rob people every day at the market. Furthermore, I recall, I develop the idea in my article, that all people . . . It’s even noteworthy that a majority of these benefactors and trailblazers of humanity were particularly horrible shedders of blood. In a word, I conclude that everyone, not only the great people, but even those who stand out just slightly from the everyday rut, that is, those who are even marginally capable of uttering some new word, must, by their nature, necessarily be criminals—more or less, it goes without saying. In a word, you see that up to this point there’s nothing particularly new in what I say. As for my division of people into ordinary and extraordinary, I agree that it is somewhat arbitrary, but I do not insist on exact figures. I only believe in my main idea. It consists precisely in the fact that people, according to the law of nature, are generally divided into two categories: into the lowest (ordinary), that is, so to speak, into the material that serves only for the generation of their own kind, and actually into people, that is, those who have the gift or the talent to say a new word in one's environment. The subdivisions here, of course, are endless, but the distinguishing features of both categories are rather sharp: the first category, that is, the material, generally speaking, people are by nature conservative, orderly, live in obedience and love to be obedient. In my opinion, they are obliged to be obedient, because this is their appointment, and there is absolutely nothing humiliating for them. The second category, all break the law, destroyers, or are inclined to do so, judging by their abilities. The crimes of these people are, of course, relative and varied; for the most part they demand, in very varied statements, the destruction of the present in the name of the better. But if, for his idea, he needs to even step over a corpse, over blood, then he, in his conscience, can, in my opinion, give himself permission to step over blood - depending, however, on the idea and size her, mind you. It is in this sense alone that I speak in my article of their right to crime. (Remember, we started with a legal question.) However, there is nothing to worry about: the masses almost never recognize this right for them, execute them and hang them (more or less), and in this way, quite rightly, fulfill their conservative appointment, with however, that in the next generations the same mass puts the executed on a pedestal and worships them (more or less). The first category is always the master of the present, the second category is the master of the future. The former preserve the world and multiply it numerically; the second move the world and lead it to the goal. Both have exactly the same right to exist. In a word, everyone has an equal right with me, and - vive la guerre éternelle,[43] - until the New Jerusalem, of course!","In my opinion, if the Keplerian and Newtonian discoveries, due to some combinations, could in no way become known to people except with the sacrifice of the life of one, ten, a hundred, and so on, people who would interfere with this discovery or would stand in the way as obstacle, then Newton would have had the right, and even would have been obliged ... to eliminate these ten or one hundred people in order to make his discoveries known to all mankind. From this, however, it does not at all follow that Newton had the right to kill anyone he pleases, oncoming and transverse, or to steal every day in the market. Further, I remember, I develop in my article that all ... well, for example, even though the legislators and establishers of mankind, starting with the most ancient, continuing with the Lycurgs, Solons, Mohammeds, [42] Napoleons and so on, every one and every one were criminals, already those who, by giving a new law, thereby violated the ancient one, sacredly revered by society and passed from the fathers, and, of course, did not stop at blood, if only blood (sometimes completely innocent and valiantly shed for the ancient law) could help them . It is even remarkable that most of these benefactors and founders of mankind were especially terrible bloodsheders. In a word, I deduce that everyone, not only great, but also a little bit out of the rut, that is, even a little bit capable of saying something new, must, by their nature, be sure to be criminals - more or less, of course. Otherwise, it is difficult for them to get out of the rut, and, of course, they cannot agree to remain in the rut, again by their nature, and in my opinion, they are even obliged to disagree. In a word, you see that so far there is nothing particularly new here. It has been typed and read a thousand times.",1,0.6426568,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 Or have you forgotten that peace and even death are dearer to a person than free choice in the knowledge of good and evil? And now, instead of solid foundations for calming the human conscience once and for all - you took everything that is extraordinary, conjectural and indefinite, you took everything that was beyond the power of people, and therefore acted as if not loving them at all - This is true, but what happened: instead of taking possession of people's freedom, you increased it even more for them! There is nothing more seductive for a person than the freedom of his conscience, but there is nothing more painful. and who is this : the one who came to give his life for them!","It is there we belong. There is our home. It is that which our heart strives for. And for that reason, Steppenwolf, we long for death. There you will find your Goethe again and Novalis and Mozart, and I my saints, Christopher, Philip of Neri and all.",0,0.46563044,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 Candide had brought from Cadiz a valet of the type one often finds in the provinces of Spain and in the colonies. He was one quarter Spanish, son of a halfbreed in the Tucuman;44 he had been choirboy, sacristan, sailor, monk, merchant, soldier, and lackey. His name was Cacambo, and he was very fond of his master because his master was a very good man. In hot haste he saddled the two Andalusian steeds. —Hurry, master, do as the old woman says; let’s get going and leave this town without a backward look. Candide wept: — O my beloved Cunégonde! must I leave you now, just when the governor is about to marry us! Cunégonde, brought from so far, what will ever become of you? — She’ll become what she can , said Cacambo; women can always find something to do with themselves; God sees to it; let’s get going. —Where are you taking me? where are we going? what will we do without Cunégonde? said Candide. — By Saint James of Compostela, said Cacambo, you were going to make war against the Jesuits, now we’ll go make war for them. I know the roads pretty well, I’ll bring you to their country, they will be delighted to have a captain who knows the Bulgar drill; you’ll make a prodigious fortune. If you don’t get your rights in one world, you will find them in another. And isn’t it pleasant to see new things and do new things?","Spirit first, Frangipani second! That’d teach the country a lesson!",0,0.4655697,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 Late this evening, that is to say around eleven, I went for a stroll in the linden avenue of the boulevard. The town was asleep: only in some windows lights could be glimpsed. On three sides, there loomed the black crest of cliffs, offshoots of Mount Mashuk, on the summit of which an ominous little cloud was lying. The moon was rising in the east; afar glittered the silvery rim of snow-covered mountains. The cries of the sentries alternated with the sound of the hot springs, which had been given free flow for the night. At times, the sonorous stamp of a horse was heard in the street, accompanied by the creaking of a Nogay97 wagon and a mournful Tatar song. I sat down on a bench and became lost in thought. I felt the need of pouring out my thoughts in friendly talk—but with whom? I would give dearly to be holding her hand at this moment. . . but with whom? “What is Vera doing right now?” I thought . . . ","What was Vera doing now, I wondered. I would have paid dearly to press her hand at that moment.",1,0.64332926,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 20 I will begin from the time when I was seventeen years old and first entered the service—though I shall soon have completed my thirtieth year of official activity. I may say that at first I was much pleased with my new uniform; and, as I grew older, I grew in mind, and fell to studying my fellow-men. Likewise I may say that I lived an upright life—so much so that at last I incurred persecution. This you may not believe, but it is true. To think that men so cruel should exist! For though, dearest one, I am dull and of no account, I have feelings like everyone else. Consequently, would you believe it, Barbara, when I tell you what these cruel fellows did to me? I feel ashamed to tell it you—and all because I was of a quiet, peaceful, good-natured disposition! Things began with “this or that, Makar Alexievitch, is your fault.” Then it went on to “I need hardly say that the fault is wholly Makar Alexievitch’s.” Finally it became “OF COURSE Makar Alexievitch is to blame.” Do you see the sequence of things, my darling? Every mistake was attributed to me, until “Makar Alexievitch” became a byword in our department. Also, while making of me a proverb, these fellows could not give me a smile or a civil word. They found fault with my boots, with my uniform, with my hair, with my figure. None of these things were to their taste: everything had to be changed. And so it has been from that day to this. True, I have now grown used to it, for I can grow accustomed to anything (being, as you know, a man of peaceable disposition, like all men of small stature)—yet why should these things be? Whom have I harmed? Whom have I ever supplanted? Whom have I ever traduced to his superiors? No, the fault is that more than once I have asked for an increase of salary. But have I ever CABALLED for it? No, you would be wrong in thinking so, my dearest one. HOW could I ever have done so? You yourself have had many opportunities of seeing how incapable I am of deceit or chicanery. Why then, should this have fallen to my lot?... However, since you think me worthy of respect, my darling, I do not care, for you are far and away the best person in the world.... What do you consider to be the greatest social virtue? In private conversation Evstafi Ivanovitch once told me that the greatest social virtue might be considered to be an ability to get money to spend. Also, my comrades used jestingly (yes, I know only jestingly) to propound the ethical maxim that a man ought never to let himself become a burden upon anyone. Well, I am a burden upon no one. It is my own crust of bread that I eat; and though that crust is but a poor one, and sometimes actually a maggoty one, it has at least been EARNED, and therefore, is being put to a right and lawful use. What therefore, ought I to do? I know that I can earn but little by my labours as a copyist; yet even of that little I am proud, for it has entailed WORK, and has wrung sweat from my brow. What harm is there in being a copyist? “He is only an amanuensis,” people say of me. But what is there so disgraceful in that? My writing is at least legible, neat, and pleasant to look upon—and his Excellency is satisfied with it. Indeed, I transcribe many important documents. At the same time, I know that my writing lacks STYLE, which is why I have never risen in the service. Even to you, my dear one, I write simply and without tricks, but just as a thought may happen to enter my head. Yes, I know all this; but if everyone were to become a fine writer, who would there be left to act as copyists?... Whatsoever questions I may put to you in my letters, dearest, I pray you to answer them. I am sure that you need me, that I can be of use to you; and, since that is so, I must not allow myself to be distracted by any trifle. Even if I be likened to a rat, I do not care, provided that that particular rat be wanted by you, and be of use in the world, and be retained in its position, and receive its reward. But what a rat it is! Enough of this, dearest one. I ought not to have spoken of it, but I lost my temper. Still, it is pleasant to speak the truth sometimes. Goodbye, my own, my darling, my sweet little comforter! I will come to you soon— yes, I will certainly come to you. Until I do so, do not fret yourself. With me I shall be bringing a book. Once more goodbye.—Your",DEAR MAKAR ALEXYEVITCH!,0,0.465509,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 “On that score, I can even tell you about a most interesting incident, one that continues up to now. “I’m fond of children in general, very fond of them,” Svidrigaylov said with a laugh. On the first day after my arrival, I visited a number of foul places—well, after seven years, I threw myself into it.","No sooner had they dispersed than His Excellency hurriedly took out his pocket-book and produced a hundred ruble note from it. ‘Here,’ he said. ‘It is the least I can do, look on it as you please…’–and he shoved it into my hand. My angel, I gave a start of shock, my whole being was shaken; I don’t know what came over me–I tried to kiss his hand.",0,0.46468902,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 I'll tell you now of a wonderful thing that happened in our town, Afimyevsk. There was a merchant living there, his name was Skotoboynikov, Maxim Ivanovitch, and there was no one richer than he in all the countryside. He built a cotton factory, and he kept some hundreds of hands, and he exalted himself exceedingly. He also had a weakness for the bottle and during his drinking bouts he would rush outside stark naked and dash all over town hollering. And, although it was not much of a town to speak of, this was still a disgrace. Still, at certain quiet moments, he'd think about his soul, sigh, and worry a great deal about life beyond the grave. Then, when he sobered up, he'd be in a wicked mood and there would be no arguing with whatever he thought fit and whatever he decided fair. But whatever had happened had taken place long ago and since then he'd never wanted to accept the bonds of another marriage. ""That's a lot of money, man; you're not worth that much altogether. He was a widower and childless. There was a rumor that he had done his wife in during the very first years of their marriage, because since his youth he hadn't bothered to keep his hands under control. Everyone was at his beck and call: the authorities never interfered with him; the archimandrite praised him for his religious zeal, for he gave generously to the monastery. ""Thirty-nine rubles, sir; I haven't drawn nothing since Christmas."" He'd pay his employees just what he decided they should get. He'd put on his glasses, look into his books, and ask a man: ""How much would you say, Foma, is coming to you?"" That's too much for you! It's more than you're worth altogether; it would not be fitting for you; ten roubles off the beads and you take twenty-nine. "" And the man says nothing; no one dares open his lips; all are dumb before him.","And everything, one may say, was at his beck and call, and even those in authority hindered him in nothing, and the archimandrite thanked him for his zeal: he gave freely of his substance to the monastery, and when the fit came upon him he sighed and groaned over his soul and was troubled not a little over the life to come. A widower he was and childless; of his wife there were tales that he had beaten her from the first year of their marriage, and that from his youth up he had been apt to be too free with his hands. Only all that had happened long ago; he had no desire to enter into the bonds of another marriage. He had a weakness for strong drink, too, and when the time came he would run drunk about the town, naked and shouting; the town was of little account and was full of iniquity. And when the time was ended he was moved to anger, and all that he thought fit was good, and all he bade them do was right. He paid his people according to his pleasure, he brings out his reckoning beads, puts on his spectacles: ""How much for you, Foma? "" ""I've had nothing since Christmas, Maxim Ivanovitch; thirty-nine roubles is my due."" ""Ough! what a sum of money!",1,0.64422506,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 When we told him that it was from a good heart! Was he going to do his andouille much longer?","Why did she not speak up, he should like to know? Instead of stammering and behaving like a fool?",1,0.64422506,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 I will tell you, my mother, Varvara Alekseevna, that I slept that night in good order, contrary to expectations, which I am very pleased with; although in new apartments, from housewarming, and somehow he always can’t sleep; everything is so, but not so! I got up today with such a clear falcon - it's fun! What is it, what a good morning today, mother! We have opened a window; the sun is shining, the birds are chirping, the air is breathing with spring aromas, and all nature is enlivening - well, everything else there was also appropriate; it's all right, like spring. I even dreamed rather pleasantly today, and all my dreams were about you, Varenka. I compared you with a bird of heaven, for the joy of people and for the decoration of nature created. I immediately thought, Varenka, that we, people living in care and anxiety, should also envy the carefree and innocent happiness of heavenly birds - well, everything else is the same, similar to this; that is, I made all such remote comparisons. I have one book there, Varenka, so it contains the same thing, everything is described in great detail. I am writing to that, after all, there are different dreams, mother. And now it’s spring, and so thoughts are all so pleasant, sharp, intricate, and tender dreams come; everything is in pink. That's why I wrote it all; However, I took it all from the book. There the writer discovers the same desire in rhymes and writes - ","From that little book of mine I have culled the following passage, and written it down for you to see. In particular does the author express a longing similar to my own, where he writes:",1,0.64422506,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 How! So after that, it’s impossible for oneself to live peacefully, in one’s own corner - whatever it is there - to live without muddying the water, according to the proverb, without touching anyone, knowing the fear of God and yourself, so that they don’t touch you, so that they didn’t sneak into your kennel and didn’t peep - what, they say, how do you feel at home there, what do you have , for example, do you have a good waistcoat , do you have what follows from the bottom dress; whether there are boots, and what are they lined with; what do you eat, what do you drink, what do you copy? .. And what’s the big deal, mother, that even if I, where the pavement is rather poor, sometimes walk on tiptoe, that I take care of my boots! Why write about another, that he needs it sometimes, that he does not drink tea? And it’s true that everyone should definitely drink tea! But do I really look into everyone's mouth, what, they say, what kind of piece is he chewing there? Who did I offend in this way? No, mother, why offend others when you are not affected! Well, here's an example for you, Varvara Alekseevna , that's what it means: you serve, you serve, zealously, diligently - what! - and the bosses themselves respect you (be that as it may, they still respect you), - and now someone under your very nose, for no apparent reason, for no apparent reason, will bake you a libel. Of course, it’s true, sometimes you sew something new for yourself - you rejoice, you don’t sleep, but you rejoice, you put on new boots, for example, with such voluptuousness - this is true, I felt it, because it’s nice to see your foot in a thin smart boot - this correctly described! But all the same, I am truly surprised how Fedor Fedorovich missed such a book without attention and did not stand up for himself. It is true that he is still a young dignitary and likes to shout at times; but why not scream? Why not bake it, if you need to bake our brother. Well, let's put it this way, for example, bake it for a tone - well, you can do it for a tone ; need to be taught; you need to give a wit; because - if it were between us, Varenka - our brother will not do anything without wit , everyone strives only to be listed somewhere, that, they say, I am there and there, but sideways and aside from business. And since there are different ranks, and each rank requires a reprimand that is completely corresponding to the rank, it is natural that after this the tone of the reprimand comes out of different ranks - this is in the order of things! Why, the light stands on that, mother, that we all set the tone in front of the other, that each of us scolds each other. Without this precaution, the light would not stand and there would be no order. I am truly surprised how Fedor Fedorovich missed such an insult without attention!",‘ Some of the words that you use are void of all meaning for me; how lucky you are to know so much!’,0,0.46429428,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 “Young man,” he continued, raising his head again, “I can read some sorrow in your face. I saw it when you entered, and that’s why I turned to you right away. In telling you the story of my life, I don’t wish to parade my disgrace before these idlers here, who know it all already; I’m seeking a sensitive, educated man. Do you know that my wife was educated in a provincial school for children of the nobility, and at the award ceremony she was chosen to perform the shawl dance§ in the presence of the governor and other distinguished guests, for which she received a gold medal and a certificate of merit? A medal . . . well, we sold that medal . but the certificate of merit is in her trunk still and not long ago she showed it to our landlady. hm . . . And although she quarrels with the landlady most continually, yet she wanted to boast to someone or other of her past honors and to tell of the happy days that are gone. I don’t condemn her, I don’t, because these things are preserved in her memory, and all the rest has turned to dust! Yes, yes; she’s a hot-tempered woman, proud and obstinate. She washes the floor herself and has only black bread to eat, but she won’t tolerate any disrespect. That’s why she wouldn’t tolerate Mr. Lebezyatnikov’s rudeness, and when he gave her a beating, she took to her bed more as a result of her feeling than from the actual blows. She was already a widow when I married her, with three children, each smaller than the other. Her first husband was a cavalry officer, and she married him for love and ran away from her parents’ house with him. She loved her husband dearly, but he took to gambling, ended up in court, and soon died. He’d begun beating her toward the end; although she didn’t let him get away with it, about which I have detailed documentary evidence; she weeps to this day when she remembers him and reproaches me. I’m glad, very glad that even in her imagination she can see herself as being happy for a while. . . . After his death she was left with three young children in a distant and dreadful provincial town, where I was also staying at the time; she was living in such hopeless poverty—even though I’ve had many different experiences, I can’t even begin to describe her situation. Her family refused to help her. Besides, she was proud, extremely proud. . . . And then, my dear sir, then, being a widower myself, and having a fourteen-year-old daughter, I proposed to her because I couldn’t bear to see such suffering. You can judge for yourself the degree of her misfortune, that she, an educated and well-brought-up woman from an eminent family, agreed to marry the likes of me! But she did! Weeping and wailing, wringing her hands, she did! Because she had nowhere else to go. Do you understand, do you really understand, dear sir, what it means when a person has nowhere else to go? No! You don’t understand it yet. . . . For one whole year I fulfilled my obligation devotedly and devoutly and never touched the bottle”—he pointed to the bottle—“because I do have feelings. But even then I couldn’t please her, even with that; it was afterward, when I lost my job, which wasn’t my fault, but it happened because of changes in the department that I turned to drink! It’s already been about half a year, after our wanderings and numerous misfortunes, since we finally turned up in this splendid capital with all of its many monuments. And I found a job here. . . . I found one and then I lost it. Do you understand, sir? This time it was my own fault, because I had reached the end of my rope. . . . Now we live in a little corner, at our landlady’s, Amaliya Fedorovna Lippevekhsel, but I don’t know how we manage to live and pay her. Many others live there besides us. . . . It’s Sodom, sir, of the most hideous kind . . . hmm . . . yes. . . . Meanwhile my daughter from my first marriage has grown up; I won’t describe what she had to suffer while growing up, my daughter, from her stepmother. Because although Katerina Ivanovna is filled with kindly feelings, she’s a hot-tempered and irritable lady, and she can snap. . . . Yes, sir! There’s no reason to recall it! As you can well imagine, Sonya received no education. About four years ago, I tried to read some geography and world history with her; but since I myself was weak in those areas and we had no suitable textbooks, and the books we did have . . . hmm . . . well, we don’t even have those books now, all our reading ended then and there. We stopped at the Persian king Cyrus the Great.¶ Then, once she was older, she read some books of romantic content as well as several others, given to her by Mr. Lebezyatnikov. One was Lewes’s Physiology. # Do you happen to know it, sir? She read it with great interest and even read some passages aloud to us: and that was her entire education. Now I’m turning to you, my dear sir, on my own behalf, with a confidential question of my own: in your opinion, can a poor but honest girl earn a living by honest work? She can’t earn even fifteen kopecks a day, sir, if she’s honest, since she possesses no special skills, and that’s even if she works all the time! Besides, the state councillor Ivan Ivanovich Klopshtok—have you ever heard of him? Not only hasn’t he paid her yet for the half dozen fine cotton shirts she made him, but he even drove her out with insults, stamping his feet and calling her names, claiming that the collars were the wrong size and had been sewn in crooked. Meanwhile the children go hungry. . . . And then Katerina Ivanovna, wringing her hands, paces the room , her face flushed with the red blotches that always accompany that illness: ‘You live here with us,’ she says, ‘like a sponger; you eat and drink and enjoy the warmth, but what’s there to eat and drink when these little ones haven’t seen a crust of bread for three days?’ I was lying there at the time . . . why not say it? I was a little drunk, sir, and I heard my Sonya (she’s very meek and has such a soft voice . . . she’s fair-haired and her face is always so pale and thin), say: ‘Oh, Katerina Ivanovna, must I really go out and do that?’ Meanwhile, Darya Frantsevna, a malevolent woman well known to the police, had reported her to the landlady several times. ‘ So what?’ replied Katerina Ivanovna, with a mocking laugh, ‘What are you saving yourself for? What a treasure!’ But don’t blame her, don’t, dear sir, don’t blame her! She wasn’t in her right mind when she said it; she was agitated, sick, and the children were crying because they hadn’t eaten, and she said it more as an insult than as what she really meant. . . . Because Katerina Ivanovna is the sort of person who, as soon as the children begin crying, even when they’re hungry, begins to beat them right away. And then I saw how Sonechka, around six o’clock, got up, put on a kerchief, her hooded cloak, and left the apartment; she came back at nine. She walked in and went straight up to Katerina Ivanovna and silently put thirty silver rubles down on the table in front of her. She didn’t utter one word as she did, didn’t even look at her, but merely picked up our large green shawl (we have one that we use), covered her head and face completely, and lay down on the bed, facing the wall, but her whole body and her little shoulders were trembling. . . . Meanwhile, sir, I lay there, in the same condition as before. . . . And then I saw, young man, I saw how Katerina Ivanovna, also without saying a word, went up to Sonechka’s bed and knelt there all evening, kissing her feet; she was unable to stand, and then, embracing, they both fell asleep together . . . both of them . . . both of them . . . yes, sir . . . while I . . . I lay there drunk, sir.”",Simon could never have imagined that he would not be happy with such a wife as he had now won.,0,0.4641121,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 ‘Oh, that Mr Razumikhin!’ cried Porfiry Petrovich, apparently delighted that Raskolnikov, obstinately silent so far, had come up with a question. ‘ Heh-heh-heh! Mr Razumikhin—I simply needed to put him off. Two’s company, three’s a crowd. Mr Razumikhin doesn’t come into it at all, for all that he came running to see me, white as a sheet… Well, bless the man, why mix him up in all this? But as for Mikolka, do you want to know what sort of a man he is, I mean, as I see him? First of all, he’s still a child , he’s never grown up; not exactly a coward, but some sort of an artist, in my view. The heart has; fantastic. Really, sir, don't laugh at me explaining him like that. Innocent and susceptible to everything. He’ll sing for you, and dance for you, and tell stories—such stories that folk will come a long way just to hear them. He’s been to school, and he’ll giggle himself silly over a rude sign, and drink himself unconscious, not because he’s a vicious character but just because someone plies him with drink; just like a child, as I said. He committed a theft, that time, but he never realized it, because he thought, “If I found it lying on the ground, what kind of theft is that?” And do you realize, he’s a schismatic, well, not exactly a schismatic, but a sectarian; some of his family once joined the “Runaways”, and he himself, quite recently, spent a whole two years in the provinces as a disciple of some starets or other. * I found all that out from Mikolka himself and his people from Zaraysk. Honestly! He was actually wanting to run away into the wilderness! He had an urge of that sort, praying to God every night, reading himself silly out of old books, seeking for the “truth”. Petersburg had a powerful effect on him, particularly the women, and the vodka too, of course. But he’s impressionable; he forgot about the starets and everything else. I happen to know that there was a painter here who took a liking to him, and Mikolka used to go and see him; and then this business happened! Well, he took fright—wanted to hang himself! To run away! What’s to be done, when people have notions like that about our legal system? I mean, some people are terrified of the word “trial”. Whose fault is that? The new courts may change things a bit. I hope to God they do! Well, when he was in prison he apparently remembered that honest starets; and the Bible reappeared again. Do you know, Rodion Romanich, what the idea of “suffering” means to some of those people? It doesn’t mean suffering on someone else’s behalf; it’s just the idea that “one has to suffer”; you have to accept suffering, and if it comes from the authorities, so much the better. In my time there was one very meek convict who served a whole year in prison, and every night he’d lie on the stove reading the Bible, and read and read so much that one day, out of the blue, he pulled out a brick and threw it at the governor, without the slightest provocation. And the way he threw it—a whole yard wide, on purpose, to be sure of not hurting him. Well, you know what happens to a convict who commits an armed assault on an officer; so there it was, he “accepted his suffering”. Well then—I suspect now that Mikolka wants to “accept suffering”, or something like that. I’m certain of it, there are facts that prove I’m right. Only he himself doesn’t know that I know. Why, surely you’d agree that this class of people throws up men with weird ideas? They’re everywhere! That starets has begun to weigh on Mikolka again, especially after he tried to hang himself. But he’ll come to me of his own accord and tell me everything. Do you think he’ll be able to hold out? Just you wait, he’ll recant all right! I’m expecting him hour by hour to come and take back his confession. I’ve taken a liking to this Mikolka, and I’m going to investigate him thoroughly. And what do you think? Heh-heh! He gave me the most convincing answers to some points— he’d obviously got hold of the information he needed, and made up a good story; and then on other points he fell flat on his face, didn’t know the first thing; not only he didn’t know anything, but he didn’t even realize that he didn’t know! No, my dear old Rodion Romanich, this isn’t about Mikolka! This is a fantastic, murky business, a modern affair, a sign of our times, of the darkness of the human heart; when people quote the idea that blood “refreshes”;* when life is supposed to be all about comfort. These are dreams got up out of books; hearts troubled by theories. You see a man resolving to take a first step, but his resolution is of a special kind—he resolves to do it, and then it’s as if he’d fallen off a cliff or thrown himself off a steeple, * and he goes off to commit his crime without knowing what he’s doing. He forgets to close the door behind him; but he’s committed a murder, two murders, all because of a theory. He committed murder, but didn’t manage to pick up the money; and what he did pick up, he went and hid under a stone. And as if the agony he went through wasn’t enough for him, hiding behind the door while they were hammering at it and ringing the bell—no, he had to go back to that empty flat, half-delirious, to remind himself about that bell; he needed to get that chill down his spine all over again… Very well, he was ill when he did that; but what about this: he’s committed a murder, but he still regards himself as an honest man, despises other people, walks around like a pale angel… no , what’s this got to do with Mikolka, my dear Rodion Romanich? There’s no Mikolka in all this!’","Swann? exclaimed the doctor, in an accent made brutal by surprise, for the slightest piece of news always took this man, who believed himself perpetually prepared for anything, more by surprise than anyone else. And seeing that no one answered him: “Swann? Who that, Swann! he yelled at the height of anxiety which suddenly eased when Madame Verdurin had said: "" But the friend Odette told us about."" – “Ah! good, good, I'm fine,” replied the appeased doctor. As for the painter, he rejoiced at Swann's introduction to Madame Verdurin, because he supposed him to be in love with Odette and liked to promote liaisons. “Nothing amuses me like making marriages, he confided, in the ear, to Doctor Cottard, I have already succeeded in many, even between women! »",0,0.4638085,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 All the ordinary circumstances of life, without which nothing could be imagined, ceased to exist for Levin. He lost awareness of time. Sometimes minutes - those minutes when she called him to her and he held her sweaty hand, which now pressed his with extraordinary force, now pushed him away- seemed like hours to him, and sometimes hours seemed like minutes. He was surprised when Lizaveta Petrovna asked him to light a candle behind the screen, and he discovered that it was already five o‘clock in the evening. If he had been told that it was now only ten o’clock in the morning, he would have been no more surprised. Where he had been during that time he did not know, any more than he knew when things had happened. He saw her burning face, bewildered and suffering, then smiling and comforting him. He saw the princess, red, tense, her grey hair uncurled, biting her lips in an effort to hide her tears; he saw Dolly, and the doctor smoking fat cigarettes, and Lizaveta Petrovna with her firm, resolute and comforting face, and the old prince pacing the reception room with a frown. But how they all came and went, and where they were, he did not know. The princess was now with the doctor in the bedroom, now in the study where a laid table had appeared; then it was not she but Dolly. Then Levin remembered being sent somewhere. Once he was sent to move a table and a sofa. He did it zealously, thinking it was for her, and only later learned that he had prepared his own bed. Then he was sent to the study to ask the doctor something. The doctor answered and then began talking about the disorders in the Duma. Then they sent him to the princess's bedroom to bring the image in a gilded silver robe, and he climbed onto the cupboard with the old maid of the princess and broke the icon lamp, and the maid of the princess reassured him about his wife and about the icon lamp, and he brought the image and put it in Kitty’s heads, diligently tucking it behind the pillows. But where, when and why it all happened, he did not know. He also did not understand why the princess took him by the hand and, looking pitifully at him, asked him to calm down, and Dolly persuaded him to eat and took him out of the room, and even the doctor looked at him seriously and with condolence and offered him drops. ","Then he was sent to the princess’s bedroom to fetch an icon in a gilded silver casing, and with the princess’s old maid he climbed up to take it from the top of a cabinet and broke the icon lamp ; the princess’s maid comforted him about his wife and the icon lamp, and he brought the icon and put it by Kitty’s head, carefully tucking it behind the pillow. But where, when, and why all this happened, he did not know. Nor did he know why the princess took him by the hand and, gazing pitifully at him, asked him to calm down, why Dolly kept telling him to eat something and leading him out of the room, and even the doctor looked at him gravely and commiseratingly and offered him some drops.",1,0.6453435,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 I have already said that the Viscount and I were trapped in a hexagonal room, regular in shape and lined with mirrors from top to bottom. Since then, many rooms have been designed on this model; they are mainly exhibited at fairgrounds and variously called ‘the hall of mirrors’, ‘the palace of illusions’ or some such name. But the author of this invention was none other than Erik himself. I saw him build the first room of this kind at the time of the Rosy Hours of Mazenderan. A single decorative feature placed in one corner, such as a column, was enough to create instantaneously a hall with a thousand columns; for, thanks to the mirrors, the real room was multiplied by six, each reflection being, in its turn, multiplied endlessly. To amuse the young sultana, Erik had designed a room that could thus become ‘an infinite temple’, but she soon tired of this trifling illusion, whereupon Erik turned the room into a torture chamber. For the architectural motif installed in one corner, he substituted a tree made of iron. Why was his tree, which was perfectly lifelike with its hand-painted leaves, made of iron? This tree was absolutely life-like but made of iron so as to withstand any assault from the ‘patient’ imprisoned in the chamber. The resulting view could, as we shall later see, change instantaneously through the use of automatically rotating winding-drums with varying painted motifs that fitted neatly into the angles of the mirrors. These allowed three different sets of decorative features to appear in sequence.",An iron tree with painted leaves replaced the architectural motif in the corner.,1,0.6453435,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 But while our hero was sitting in his hard armchair, troubled by sleeplessness and his thoughts, and vigorously cursing Nozdryov and all his relations, while before him glowed a tallow candle with a black cowl of soot on the wick, which threatened every minute to go out, while the blind, dark night, on the point of turning blue with the approaching dawn, looked in at the window, and in the distance cocks were crowing to one another, and in the slumbering town perhaps some poor fellow of unknown class and rank in a fustianda overcoat trudged along knowing nothing of aught but the highway, too well worn (alas!) by the vagabonds of Russia—at that very moment an event was taking place at the other end of the town that was destined to increase the unpleasantness of our hero’s position. To be precise, a strange equipage, for which it is puzzling to find a name, was creaking through the further streets and alleys of the town; it was not like a coach, nor a carriage, nor a chaise, but it was more like a full-cheeked rounded melon on wheels. The cheeks of this melon, that is the doors, which bore tracks of yellow paint, shut very badly owing to the rickety condition of the handles and locks, which were tied up with string. The melon was full of cotton cushions in the shape of pouches, rolling-pins and simple pillows, stuffed up with sacks of bread, fancy loaves, doughnuts and pasties, and bread rings made of boiled dough. Chicken pies and saltfish pies peeped out at the top. The footboard was occupied by an individual of the flunkey order, with an unshaven chin, slightly touched with grey, in a short jacket of bright-coloured homespun—the sort of individual known as a “fellow.” The clank and squeaking of the iron clamps and rusty screws woke a sentry at the other end of the town, who picking up his halberd shouted half awake at the top of his voice: “Who goes there?” but seeing that no one was passing, and only hearing a creaking in the distance, caught a beast of some sort on his collar, and, going up to a lamp-post, executed it on the spot with his nail, then laying aside his halberd, fell asleep again in accordance with the rules of his chivalry. The horses kept falling on their knees, for they had not been shod, and evidently the quiet cobbled streets of the town were unfamiliar to them. This grotesque equipage, after turning several times from one street into another, at last turned into a dark side-street next the little parish church of St. Nikolay, and stopped before the head priest’s gate. A girl clambered out of the vehicle, wearing a short warm jacket, with a kerchief on her head, and beat on the gate with both fists as though she were beating a man (the “fellow” in the bright-coloured homespun jacket was afterwards dragged down by his legs, for he was sleeping like the dead). Dogs began barking, the gates yawned, and at last, though with difficulty, swallowed up this uncouth monster of the road. It drove into a crowded yard, cluttered with firewood, henhouses, and all sorts of flimsy coops and hutches; a gentlewoman climbed out of the vehicle; this gentlewoman being none other than Korobochka the landowner, widow of a collegiate secretary. Soon after our hero’s departure, the old lady had been overcome by such anxiety as to the possibility of his deceiving her, that after lying awake for three nights in succession she made up her mind to drive into the town, regardless of the fact that the horses were not shod, hoping there to find out for certain what price dead souls were going for, and whether she had not—God forbid—made a terrible blunder by selling them at a third of their proper price. The effect produced by this incident may be understood by the reader from a conversation which took place between two ladies. This conversation—but this conversation had better be kept for the following chapter.","His arms and legs are frozen; he gasps for breath. The next time you see him, he is coughing; it is not long before illness, like some unclean reptile, creeps into his breast, and when you look again, death is already standing over him in some stinking corner somewhere, and there is no way out, no help at hand – there you have his entire life! That is what life can be like! Oh, Varenka, it is so agonizing to hear those words ‘For the love of Christ’, and to walk on, and give the boy nothing, to say to him: ‘God will provide.’ Some ‘For the love of Christ’ are not so bad. (There are various kinds of them, little mother.) Others are long-drawn-out, habitual, studied – a beggar is stock-in-trade; it is not so hard to refrain from giving to one of those – he is an inveterate beggar, one of long standing, a beggar by trade; he’s used to it, you think",0,0.46332285,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 Sitting across from her sister-in-law on the bed, she suddenly began, using her larynx voice very loudly and with folded hands, to chant a song... ""Stop it, oh Lord,"" she said, and everyone listened to her motionless - ""do it end of all his distress; strengthen his feet and hands and let unto death …” But she prayed so deeply from the bottom of her heart that she only ever occupied herself with the word she was uttering, and did not consider that she had not finished the verse at all know","For every such deed God will bless you. Good deeds never go unrewarded, nor does virtue ever fail to win the crown of divine justice, be it early or be it late.",0,0.46317106,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 60 - And from you to me! Heh! But you never know what will suddenly enter her head! She's all in a fever right now. Then he shouts to me: “I’m going into the water for you. Hurry wedding! She hurries herself, appoints a day, and when the time comes, she gets frightened, or other thoughts go - God knows, because you saw it : she cries, laughs, beats in a fever. Why is it so strange that she ran away from you too? She ran away from you then, because she realized how much she loves you. She can't do it for you. You said just now that I looked for her then in Moscow; not true - she herself ran to me from you: “Set a day, she says, I'm ready! Come on champagne! We are going to the gypsies! .. - shouting! If it wasn't for me, she would have thrown herself into the water long ago; I speak correctly. That's why he doesn't throw himself, because maybe I'm even worse than water. So she wants to marry me out of spite … If she does it, believe me, she’ll be doing it out of spite.” ","From evil and comes for me ... if he comes out, I say so truly that he will come out of evil.",1,0.64579034,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 “No, listen,” said Pierre, calming down. “You are an amazing person. What you just said is very good, very good. Of course you don't know me. We haven’t seen each other for so long… children still… You can assume in me… I understand you, I understand you very much. I wouldn't do it, I wouldn't have the spirit, but it's wonderful. I am very glad that I got to know you. Strange,” he added, after a pause and smiling, “what you supposed in me! “Well, so what? We'll become better acquainted. If you please.” He laughed. He shook Boris's hand. “You know, I have never been to the count. He didn't call me... I feel sorry for him as a person... But what can I do?","He laughed. — Well, so what? We will get to know you better. You are welcome. He shook hands with Boris.",1,0.64579034,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 “I don’t want to tell a lie. Reality constantly set subtle traps for me these past six months to the extent that I often forgot about the sentence hanging over me or, more accurately, refused to think about it and even found things to distract me. Incidentally, a word about my circumstances. When about eight months ago I became very ill, I broke off all my relationships and abandoned all my friends. As I was always fairly morose by nature, my friends easily forgot me; of course, I dare say they would have forgotten me anyway. At home too, that is in the family, I led a solitary life. About five months ago I locked my room from inside and shut myself off once and for all from the rest of my family. Everyone acquiesced in this, and no one dared enter my room except at certain times to tidy up and bring me my food. My mother cowered before me and did not so much as utter a plaintive sound on the rare occasions when I used to let her come in. She constantly used to chastise the children to stop them making a noise and disturbing me; I often complained of their shouting. I can imagine just how popular I am with them now! ‘ Faithful Kolya’, as I used to call him, also had a lot to put up with me, I think. Towards the end, he too enjoyed needling me. All this was as it should be; people are born to make one another suffer. But I noted that he endured my irritability in such a way as though he had promised himself in advance to spare the patient. Naturally, I found this irritating; but I think he fancied he’d copy the Prince’s ‘Christian humility’, which was of course faintly ridiculous. The boy is young and eager and, naturally, is given to emulating his elders; but it seems to me it’s high time he started being his own man. I like him a lot. I tormented Surikov too, the one who lived a floor above us and was constantly running errands for various people, from dawn till dusk; I kept telling him it was his own fault he was so poor. In the end he took fright and stopped coming to see me. He is a very humble man, exceptionally humble! (NB: They say humility is an awesome power; I must ask the Prince about this , it’s what he himself said.) But when in March I went up to have a look how it was they’d managed, as he put it, ‘to freeze’ their child to death, and inadvertently smiled at the sight of the infant’s corpse, because I’d again started demonstrating to Surikov that he alone was to blame, the misery guts’ lips began to tremble suddenly. He put one hand on my shoulder and, pointing to the door with the other, said softly, that is, in a barely audible whisper, ‘Out please!’ If he despised me, he did it in his own way: he “humbly despised” me. Two or three times after that, when I met him on the stairs, he suddenly started taking his hat off to me, something he never did before, but he no longer stopped as before, but ran past me in embarrassment. Maybe he simply began suddenly to despise me. There was dignity, even a great deal of it, even quite unsuited to him ( so that, in truth, it was quite comical), but there was no anger. I went out, and I liked it very much, liked it right then, even at the very moment when he was leading me out; but for a long time afterwards, in my memory, his words made the painful impression of a sort of strange, contemptuous pity for him, which I did not want to feel at all. His lips quivered then not at all out of anger, I will swear to that: he seized me by the arm and uttered his splendid “Go, sir!” decidedly without being angry. Even at the moment of such an insult (I do feel that I insulted him, though I had no intention of doing so), even at such a moment the man could not get angry! There again he may have raised his hat to me simply out of fear as to his creditor’s son, because he forever owed my mother money and could never get out of debt. And this is probably the most likely explanation. I had a mind to come clean with him, and I know for certain that within a matter of minutes he’d have begged my pardon; but I thought better of it.","I say this not out of pride, but because I can see how you must love me, if you are so worried about my feelings.",0,0.4628676,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 40 madame Wang inquired, as she rubbed Pao-yue’s neck. “There’s still one pill remaining,” Pao-yue explained by way of reply. “You had better,” madame Wang added, “fetch ten more pills tomorrow morning; and every day about bedtime tell Hsi Jen to give them to you; and when you’ve had one you can go to sleep!” “Ever since you, mother, bade me take them,” Pao-yue rejoined, “Hsi Jen has daily sent me one, when I was about to turn in.” “Who’s this called Hsi Jen?” Chia Chen thereupon ascertained. “She’s a waiting-maid!” madame Wang answered. “A servant girl,” Chia Cheng remonstrated, “can be called by whatever name one chooses; anything is good enough; but who’s it who has started this kind of pretentious name!” Madame Wang noticed that Chia Cheng was not in a happy frame of mind, so that she forthwith tried to screen matters for Pao-yue, by saying: “It’s our old lady who has originated it!” Bao-yu saw that a frank avowal was now unavoidable and rose to his feet: ‘This maid has a surname which means “Flowers” . ‘Mother would never think of a name like that,’ said Jia Zheng. ‘It must have been Bao-yu.’ What time the smell of flowers wafts itself into man, one knows the day is warm. “And as this waiting-maid’s surname was Hua (flower), I readily gave her the name, on the strength of this sentiment.” “When you get back,” madame Wang speedily suggested addressing Pao-yue, “change it and have done; and you, sir, needn’t lose your temper over such a trivial matter!” “It doesn’t really matter in the least,” Chia Cheng continued; “so that there’s no necessity of changing it; but it’s evident that Pao-yue doesn’t apply his mind to legitimate pursuits, but mainly devotes his energies to such voluptuous expressions and wanton verses!” And as he finished these words, he abruptly shouted out: “You brute-like child of retribution! Don’t you yet get out of this?” “Get away, off with you!” madame Wang in like manner hastened to urge; “our dowager lady is waiting, I fear, for you to have her repast!” Pao-yue assented, and, with gentle step, he withdrew out of the room, laughing at Chin Ch’uan-erh, as he put out his tongue; and leading off the two nurses , he went off on his way like a streak of smoke.","For they don’t come and go like other people, whom it would be child’s play to follow. They are here and then gone, put down and snatched away like toy soldiers. The places where they can be found are somewhat out-of-the-way, but by no means hidden.",0,0.46283722,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 20 Initially, until we – Mother and I, that is – had grown accustomed to our new abode, we both found life in Anna Fyodorovna’s house a strange and in some ways terrifying experience. Anna Fyodorovna lived in a house of her own on the Sixth Line. There were only five habitable rooms in the house. Three of them were occupied by Anna Fyodorovna and my female cousin Sasha, whom she was bringing up – Sasha was just a child, an orphan who had no father or mother. We lived in one of the remaining rooms, and the other, next to ours, housed a poor student named Pokrovsky, Anna Fyodorovna’s lodger. Anna Fyodorovna lived very well, better than one might have supposed; but the sources of her capital were mysterious, as were the tasks that kept her busy. She was always bustling about, always preoccupied; went out by carriage or on foot several times a day; but what she did, what preoccupied her and why, I was never able to fathom. The circle of her acquaintances was large and varied. She had a constant stream of visitors, and Lord only knows what kind of people they were, always calling on some sort of business and only for a moment or two. Mother would always take me off to our room as soon as the doorbell rang. Anna Fyodorovna was always terribly angry with Mother because of this, and was forever saying that we were too proud, proud beyond our means, and that it would be a matter if we had something to be proud about, and kept going on like that for whole hours on end. At that time I did not understand these accusations of pride; it is only now that I think I know, or can at least surmise, why Mother was unable to make up her mind to go and live in Anna Fyodorovna’s house. Anna Fyodorovna was a malicious woman; she tormented us constantly. It is to this day a mystery to me why she invited us to go and live with her. At the outset she was reasonably pleasant to us, but then, when she realized that we were helpless and had nowhere to go, she displayed her true colours. Later on she became quite affectionate towards me, affectionate in a vulgar sort of way that verged on flattery, but initially I had to put up with everything that Mother had to put up with. She was on at us every minute of the day; all she ever did was remind us that she was our benefactress. She would introduce us to strangers as her poor relatives, a helpless widow and orphan whom she had given shelter in her home out of mercy, for the sake of Christian charity. At table she would watch every mouthful we took, but if we did not eat, there would be more trouble: she would say that we were turning up our noses at what she offered us, that it was not good enough for us, that we were ungrateful. She constantly criticized Father, saying that he had wanted to be better than other people, and a fat lot of good that had done him; he had left his wife and daughter to sink or swim, and if they had not had a female relative with a charitable, compassionate, Christian soul, they might, God only knew, have perished of hunger on the street. The things she said! Listening to her, one felt less bitterness than revulsion. Mother was constantly in tears; her health was getting worse from day to day, she was visibly wasting away, yet all the while she and I were working from morning to night, taking in orders for sewing, which thoroughly displeased Anna Fyodorovna; she kept repeating that her home was not a fashion shop. But we had to clothe ourselves, we had to put money by for unforeseeable expenses, we simply had to have money of our own. We were saving just in case it proved possible to move somewhere else in time. But doing the work, Mother lost what little good health she had left: she was growing weaker with each day that passed. Her illness, like a canker, was visibly undermining her life and was bringing her close to the grave. I saw it all, felt it all, suffered it all: it was all happening before my eyes!",Her acquaintance was wide and varied.,1,0.64623696,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 This woman, who had seen through me so comprehensively, who seemed to know more of life than any wise men, was so skilled in behaving as a child, so adept at playing whatever little game life momentarily offered, that I automatically became her pupil. Now she was eating, and the duck leg and the salad, the gateau and the liqueur were taken seriously, objects to rejoice in and pass judgement on, to discuss and go into flights of fancy about. The scene just before this seemed more and more divorced from reality. It was increasingly difficult to believe that only minutes ago these eyes of hers had been staring at me so gravely and frighteningly. Whether it was wisdom of the highest order or the simplest form of naivety, it did not matter. Anyone knowing how to live for the moment, to live in the present as she did, treasuring every little wayside flower with loving care and deriving value from every playful little instant, had nothing to fear from life. Each plate that was taken away marked the beginning of a new chapter. In this respect, alas, Hermione was like life itself, forever fickle as the moment, never predictable in advance.","It was fun for them to listen to the reading of the Epistle of the Apostle and the roar of the voice of the protodeacon at the last verse, so eagerly awaited by the outside public. It was fun to drink warm red wine with water from a flat bowl, and it became even more fun when the priest, throwing back his robe and taking both hands in his, led them around the analogion with the gusts of the bass playing “Isaiah rejoice”. Shtcherbatsky and Chirikov, who supported the crowns, entangled in the bride's train, also smiling and rejoicing at something, either lagged behind or ran into the priest's wedding ceremony at the stops.",0,0.46235168,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 20 Meanwhile Raskolnikov, who had turned slightly towards Luzhin when he spoke to him, now began once more to stare at him with great curiosity, as if he hadn’t yet had the time to get a good look at him, or as if he were now suddenly struck by something new about him. He even raised himself from the pillow for the purpose. And indeed, there was something especially striking about Piotr Petrovich’s general appearance—something that could have justified the epithet of ‘the bridegroom’ which he had just so unceremoniously applied to him. All of his apparel had just come from a tailor, and it was all very fine, except perhaps that it was all too new and revealed his purpose too evidently. Even his own awareness, perhaps a bit too self-satisfied, his own awareness of this pleasant change for the better could be forgiven on such an occasion, for Petr Petrovich was close to being a bridegroom. In the first place, it was evident, and even too noticeable, that Petr Petrovich had made hasty efforts to use his few days in the capital to get himself all decked out and fancied up in anticipation of meeting his fiancée, which fact, however, was extremely harmless and acceptable. Even his dashing new round hat bore witness to it: Piotr Petrovich was treating it with far too much respect, holding it too carefully in his hands. Even his splendid pair of lilac-coloured gloves, genuine Jouvins,* conveyed the same message, if only because he was not wearing them but holding them in his hand to show them off. He wore mostly light and youthful colours: a handsome pale-brown summer jacket, pale lightweight trousers and waistcoat, newly bought fine linen, a cravat of the finest cambric with pink stripes—and the best of it was that all this actually suited him. His face, very fresh and quite handsome, seemed younger than his forty-five years. His cheeks were agreeably shaded by dark mutton-chop whiskers, which grew attractively bushier next to his shiny clean-shaven chin. Even his hair, just faintly receding, had been combed and curled at the barber’s, yet this had not made it seem in the least comic or silly, though this is what generally happens when a man sports curled hair, because it invariably makes him look like a German on his wedding day. If there really was anything unpleasing or unattractive about his reasonably good-looking and stolid appearance, it was due to something else. After his unceremonious inspection of Mr Luzhin, Raskolnikov gave a venomous smile, subsided onto his pillow and went back to staring at the ceiling.","For one thing it was quite clear, and even rather too obvious, that Piotr Petrovich had made a hasty effort to use his few days in Petersburg to get himself fitted out and smartened up in readiness for his bride; and this, of course, was something quite innocent and allowable. On this occasion, too, one might even have excused his rather over-complacent awareness of how smart he had made himself, seeing that Piotr Petrovich was here as the bridegroom. His whole costume was fresh from the tailor’s, and everything was just right, except that it was all too new, and betrayed too blatantly the purpose he had in mind.",1,0.64712954,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 20 This is what happened! I shall tell you without regard for style, just as the Good Lord puts the words into my head. I went to the department today. I arrived, sat down, and started to write. I should also tell you, little mother, that I had been writing the day before as well. Well, it was like this: Timofey Ivanovich came to me yesterday with an order for a document which was required in a hurry. ‘Please copy it cleanly, swiftly and carefully, Makar Alekseyevich,’ he said. ‘It is to be signed today.’ I should observe, little angel, that I was not quite myself yesterday, and had no interest in anything; such were the sadness and depression that had overtaken me. My heart was cold and my soul was dark; my memory held nothing but you, my poor little treasure. Well, so I got down to the task of copying; I did the work cleanly and well, except that – I don’t know how to explain it to you, whether it was the work of the Unclean One, whether it had been preordained by some secret Fate, or whether it simply had to happen that way – I left out a whole line; Lord knows what sense it must have made, it simply didn’t make any. There was a delay over the delivery of the document, and it wasn’t handed to His Excellency for signature until today. I reported for work this morning at the usual time and stationed myself beside Yemelyan Ivanovich. I should observe to you, my dear, that I have recently begun to feel twice as ashamed and apologetic as I used to. I’ve recently begun to find it impossible to look at anyone. If anyone is chair so much as gives a creak, I feel more dead than alive. That was how it was today: I sat huddled up, not making a sound, like a hedgehog, with the result that Yefim Akimovich (there never was such a bully) said so that everyone could hear: ‘What are you sitting there looking so scared for, Makar Alekseyevich?’ And he made such a face that absolutely everyone near us split their sides with laughter, at my expense, of course. They laughed, and they laughed! I stuck my fingers in my ears and shut my eyes, just sat there, not moving. That is what I usually do; that way they usually desist sooner. Suddenly I heard noise, the sound of running footsteps, fuss and bustle ; I listened – surely my ears must be deceiving me? My name was being called, someone was asking for me, for Devushkin. My heart began to quiver within me, and I still don’t really know why I was so scared; all I know is that I was more scared than I have ever been in my life before. I became rooted to mychair – asthough nothing were wrong, as though I were not even there. But again the voice started up, coming nearer and nearer. At last it was right next to my ear: ‘ Devushkin! Devushkin! Where is Devushkin?’ I raised my eyes: before me stood Yevstafy Ivanovich; he said: ‘Makar Alekseyevich, you’ve to go to His Excellency, at the double! You’ve made a mistake in a document!’ That was all he said, but it was enough, little mother, don’t you think! I went numb, froze, lost all feeling; and began to walk, more dead than alive. I was escorted through one room, through a second, then a third, into a study – I stood before His Excellency! It is impossible for me to give you a positive account of the thoughts that passed through my mind at that moment. I saw His Excellency standing there, and they were all standing around him. I don’t think I bowed; I forgot. Struck dumb, I merely stood there, my lips trembling and my legs shaking. And I had reason to be struck dumb, little mother. For one thing, I was ashamed of myself; I took a glance in a mirror to the right of me, and what I saw in it nearly sent me out of my mind. And for another, I have always tried to do my job as though I myself were not actually there. So that it was hardly likely that His Excellency could know of my existence. Perhaps he might have heard in passing, as it were, that there was a member of staff named Devushkin in the department, but he would never have had any close dealings with him.",Girls! where is Devushkin?,1,0.64779824,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 But all at once a new chief, a stern military man, the enemy of bribe-takers and of everything that is called injustice, was sent to replace the easy-going old fogey who had been in command. The next day he frightened every one of them, he called for accounts, detected inaccuracies and sums of money missing at every step, instantly noticed the handsome private residences and a severe inquiry followed. Officials were dismissed from their posts. The handsome private residences passed to the Treasury and were transformed into almshouses and schools for the sons of soldiers—everything was scattered to the winds and Tchitchikov suffered more than the others. But since he was, after all, a military man, and consequently not wise to all the refinements of civilian chicanery, it followed that after some time, thanks to their appearance of righteousness and their ability to simulate and assimilate, other officials wormed themselves into his good graces, and the General in a short while found himself in the hands of still bigger swindlers whom he did not at all consider to be such; he was actually satisfied because he had, at last, chosen the proper men and boasted in all seriousness of his exceptional ability to discern capable people. His face, despite its amiability, suddenly proved not to the liking of the chief—just why, God alone knows: at times there just aren’t any reasons for such things—and he conceived a mortal hatred for Chichikov. It was at this time that many of the former officials turned to the path of righteousness and were taken back into the service. And the implacable new chief was a mighty terror unto them all. It didn’t take at all long for the officials to catch on to his temperament and character. All who were under his supervision became, with never an exception, awesome persecutors of wrongdoing; everywhere, in all matters, did they pursue it, even as a fisherman with a harpoon pursues some fleshy white sturgeon, and pursued it with such success that in a short while each one of them turned out to have a nest egg of a few thousands. But Tchitchikov could not worm his way in again anyhow, though the general’s chief secretary, who completely led his chief by the nose, encouraged by Prince Hovansky’s letters, espoused his cause and did his utmost, yet he could do nothing for him whatever. Though the general could be led by the nose (without being aware of it of course), yet if an idea once got into his head it was like an iron nail , there was no pulling it out again. All the intelligent secretary could obtain was the destruction of the record of his ignominy, and he only obtained this by appealing to the general’s compassion, and painting in vivid colours the touching plight of the delinquent’s children, though Tchitchikov fortunately had none.","When she recovered her senses she was surrounded by the soldiers of the watch, some of whom were just carrying off the captain bathed in his own blood; the priest had vanished; the window at the back of the room, which opened upon the river, was wide open; some one picked up a cloak which he supposed belonged to the officer, and she heard the soldiers say,— “She is a sorceress who has stabbed a captain.”",0,0.46088028,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 ‘Well, yes, the French are good soldiers,’ Mr Povondra observed expertly. ‘ That Jean would stand no nonsense either. Don’t know where he got his strength from. Reeked like a barber’s shop but when he was in a scrap he certainly knew how to fight. But two Newt army corps, that’s not enough. Come to think of it,’ the old gentleman mused, ‘people were better at fighting people. And it didn’t take so long. Still just concrete dikes, but some bayonet attack, no. This is not a real war,"" Father Povondra said angrily. "" ""There were three million people here, and there were three million people,"" the old man pointed out as the boat rocked, ""and now, heck, it was attacking itself - With those Newts it's been going on for twelve years, and still nothing, just the preparation of better positions - No, in my young years, there used to be battles ","since if there is a volcano at Lisbon, it cannot be somewhere else, since it is unthinkable that things should not be where they are, since everything is well.",0,0.46053153,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 “Dear Uncle,” said K., “there’s no use getting excited, it won’t help either of us. Trials aren’t won by getting excited, let my practical experience count for something, just as I’ve always valued yours and still do, even when I’m surprised by it. Since you say that the family will suffer too because of the trial—which for my part I really can’t understand, but that’s beside the point—I’ll gladly do as you say in all things. Except that I don’t think a stay in the country would be to my advantage, even in the sense you intend, because it would imply flight and a guilty conscience. And although they certainly follow me more closely here, I can also take a more active role in the case.” “Right,” said his uncle as if they were at last on the same track, “I only made that suggestion because I was afraid if you remained here your case would be damaged by your own indifference, and I thought it better to act in your behalf. But if you intend to pursue it as strongly as possible yourself, that’s obviously far better.” “So we seem to be in agreement on that,” said K. “And now do you have a suggestion as to what I should do next?” “I still have to think the matter over of course,” his uncle said, “you’ve got to remember that I’ve spent the past twenty years almost exclusively in the countryside, where one tends to lose the flair for this sort of thing. Various important connections with well-placed persons who might know more about such matters have weakened over time. I’ve been somewhat isolated in the countryside, as you well know. That’s something you don’t really realize yourself until something like this comes up. And your case has caught me partly by surprise, although in a strange way I suspected something like this after Erna’s letter, and knew almost for certain the moment I saw you today. But that’s beside the point, the important thing now is not to lose any time.” Even as he was speaking he rose up on tiptoe and waved for a cab, and now he pulled K. after him into the car as he called out an address to the driver. “Now we’re going to see Huld, the lawyer,” he said, “he was my classmate in school. You know the name of course? No? That’s odd. He has a considerable reputation as a defense counsel and poor man’s lawyer. But it’s his human qualities I place my trust in.” “Anything you want to do is fine with me,” K. said, in spite of the fact that the hasty and aggressive manner with which his uncle was handling the matter made him uncomfortable. As a defendant, it wasn’t very pleasant to be heading for a poor man’s lawyer. “I didn’t know,” he said, “that a person could engage a lawyer in this sort of case too.” “But of course,” his uncle said, “that goes without saying. Why not? And now tell me everything that’s happened up to now, so I’m fully informed about the matter.” K. began telling him immediately, without concealing anything; his total frankness was the only protest he could allow himself against his uncle’s opinion that the trial was a terrible disgrace. He mentioned Fräulein Bürstner’s name only once in passing, but that didn’t detract from his frankness, since Fräulein Bürstner wasn’t connected with the trial in any way. As he spoke he looked out the window and noticed that they were approaching the very suburb where the law court offices were located; he pointed this out to his uncle, who, however, did not find the coincidence particularly striking. The cab stopped in front of a dark building. His uncle rang the bell at the first door on the ground floor; while they waited he bared his large teeth in a smile and whispered: “Eight o’clock, an unusual hour for a client to visit. But Huld won’t hold it against me.” At a peephole in the door appeared two large dark eyes, stared at the two visitors for a moment, then disappeared; the door, however, did not open. K. and his uncle mutually confirmed the fact that they had seen two eyes. “A new maid who’s afraid of strangers,” his uncle said, and knocked again. Once more the eyes appeared; they could almost be considered sad now, but that might well have been a mere illusion produced by the open gas flame that burned with a hiss directly over their heads but shed little light. “Open up,” his uncle called out, and pounded his fist against the door, “we’re friends of Herr Huld.” “Herr Huld is ill,” came a whisper from behind them. In a doorway at the other end of the narrow hall stood a man in a dressing gown who delivered this message in the softest voice possible. His uncle, who was already furious at the long wait, turned around abruptly and cried out: “Ill? You say he’s ill?” and walked over to him almost menacingly, as if the man were the illness. “The door’s open now,” the man said, pointed to the lawyer’s door, gathered up his dressing gown, and disappeared. The door had indeed opened, and a young girl—K. recognized the dark, slightly protruding eyes—was standing in a long white apron in the entranceway, holding a candle in her hand. Next open earlier!"" said the uncle instead of greeting, while the girl curtsied a little. "" K. was still staring at the girl while she had already turned around to lock the apartment door again , she had a doll-like rounded face, not only her pale cheeks and chin were round, but also her temples and the edges of her forehead. "" Albert, it's your old friend,"" said the uncle. "" Leni, who's coming?"" asked the lawyer, who, blinded by the candle, didn't recognize the guests. The Herr Advocate is ill,"" said the girl, as her uncle rushed towards a door without stopping. ""I think so,"" said the girl, having found time to go ahead with the candle and open the door. ""Josef!"" called the uncle again, and he asked the girl: ""It's the heart condition?"" Come on, Josef,"" he then said to K., who slowly pushed past the girl. "" In a corner of the room, where the candlelight had not yet penetrated, a face with a long beard rose from the bed. "" “Oh, Albert,” said the lawyer and fell back upon the pillows, as if he didn’t have to pretend for this visit. “Are things really so bad?” asked his uncle, and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I don’t believe it. It’s just your heart acting up again; it will pass as it has before.” “Possibly,” the lawyer said softly, “but it’s worse than it’s ever been. I have a hard time breathing, I can’t sleep at all, and I’m getting weaker every day.” “I see,” said K.’s uncle, and pressed his Panama hat firmly down on his knee with his large hand. “That’s bad news. Are you sure you’re receiving proper care? It’s so dark and gloomy here, too. It’s been a long time since I was here, but it seemed more cheerful in the past. And this little maid of yours doesn’t seem very jolly, or else she’s hiding it.” The girl was still standing by the door, holding the candle; as far as one could judge from her vague gaze she was looking at K. rather than his uncle, even now that the latter was talking about her. K. was leaning against a chair he had placed near the girl. “When you’re as sick as I am,” said the lawyer, “you need peace and quiet. I don’t find it gloomy.” After a brief pause he added: “And Leni takes good care of me, she’s a good girl.” But that didn’t convince K.’s uncle; he was obviously prejudiced against the nurse, and although he didn’t contradict the sick man, he eyed her sternly as she now approached the bed, placed the candle on the nightstand, bent over the sick man, and whispered to him as she straightened his pillows. Almost forgetting his consideration for the sick man, he stood up and paced back and forth behind the nurse, and K. would not have been surprised to see him seize her from behind by the skirts and pull her away from the bed. K. himself watched all this calmly; in fact the lawyer’s illness was not wholly unwelcome, for he had not been able to stem his uncle’s zeal with regard to his case, and now he was glad to see that zeal deflected through no fault of his own. Then, perhaps merely intending to wound the nurse, his uncle said: “Young lady, please leave us alone for a while, I have a personal matter I wish to discuss with my friend.” The nurse, who was still leaning across the sick man and was just smoothing the covers next to the wall, merely turned her head and said calmly, in striking contrast to his uncle, who had first choked with rage before bursting out in speech: “You can see he’s too ill to discuss any personal matter.” She’d probably repeated his uncle’s words for simplicity’s sake; nevertheless, even a neutral observer could have taken it for mockery, and his uncle naturally reacted as if he’d been stabbed. “You damned—” he said somewhat indistinctly in his first gurgle of agitation; K. was startled even though he’d expected something of the sort, and ran over to his uncle, firmly intending to cover his mouth with both hands. Fortunately, however, the sick man rose up behind the girl; K.’s uncle made a bitter face, as if he were swallowing something particularly nasty, and then said more calmly: “We haven’t taken leave of our senses of course; if what I’m requesting weren’t reasonable, I wouldn’t request it. Now please leave.” The nurse stood beside the bed, facing K.’s uncle fully, one hand, as K. thought he noticed, stroking the lawyer’s hand. “You can say anything in front of Leni,” the sick man said, in a clearly imploring tone. “But this doesn’t concern me,” said K.’s uncle, “it is not my secret.” And he turned around as if he had no intention of discussing the matter further but would give him a little more time to think it over. “Whom does it concern then?” the lawyer asked, his voice fading, and lay back down. “My nephew,” said the uncle, “and I’ve brought him along.” Then he introduced him: “Chief Financial Officer Josef K.” “Oh,” said the sick man much more energetically, and put out his hand toward K., “please excuse me, I didn’t see you at all.” “Go on, Leni,” he then said to his nurse, who put up no further resistance, and gave her his hand as if they were parting for some time. “So,” he said at last to K.’s uncle, who had also drawn nearer, appeased, “you didn’t come to pay a sick call, you came on business.”",Why need you bother about the cost of the trip?,0,0.460016,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 His former comrades were all turning into politicians; the notorious nihilists3 before whom the whole of Europe had trembled, the sons of the petit bourgeois, of priests and shopkeepers, could think no further than liberating their own country and seemed to believe they would have delivered the whole world once they had killed their own particular despot. And the moment he talked to them of razing the old society to the ground like a ripe harvest, or even used that meaningless word ‘republic’, he could see they didn’t understand him, regarding him instead as a loose cannon and writing him off as a man who had stepped outside his class only to become one of the failed princes of international revolution. In Russia nothing was going right, and he despaired at the news he had been getting. But he was still a patriot at heart, and it was with painful bitterness that he kept repeating his favourite phrase:","Soon after, Pyotr Andreyich married Marya Ivanovna. Their descendants are flourishing in the Province of Simbirsk. Thirty miles from N. there is an estate belonging to ten owners. In one of the lodges a letter written by Catherine II may be seen in a frame under glass. It is addressed to Pyotr Andreyich’s father; it affirms the innocence of his son and praises the heart and intelligence of Captain Mironov’s daughter.",0,0.45998567,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 VARVARA ALEXYEVNA, MY DARLING, I am lost, we are both lost, both together irretrievably lost. My reputation, my dignity—all is destroyed! I am ruined and you are ruined, my darling. You are hopelessly ruined with me! It’s my doing, I have brought you to ruin! I am persecuted, Varinka, I am despised, turned into a laughing-stock, and the landlady has simply begun to abuse me; she shouted and shouted at me, to-day; she rated and rated at me and treated me as though I were dirt. And in the evening, at Ratazyaev’s, one of them began reading aloud the rough copy of a letter to you which I had accidentally dropped out of my pocket. My precious, what a joke they made of it! They called us all sorts of flattering names and roared with laughter, the traitors! I went to them and taxed Ratazyaev with his perfidy, told him he was a traitor! And Ratazyaev answered that I was a traitor myself, that I amused myself with making conquests among the fair sex. He said, “You take good care to keep it from us; you’re a Lovelace,”13 he said; and now they all call me Lovelace and I have no other name! Do you hear, my little angel , do you hear?—they know it all now , they know all about it, and they know about you, my own, and whatever you have, they know about it all! And that’s not all. Even Faldoni is in it, he’s following their lead; I sent him to-day to the sausage-shop to get me something; he wouldn’t go. “I am busy,” that was all he said! “But you know it’s your duty,” I said. “No, indeed,” he said, “it’s not my duty. Here, you don’t pay my mistress her money, so I have no duty to you.” I could not stand this insult from him, an illiterate peasant, and I said, “You fool,” and he answered back, “Fool yourself.” I thought he must have had a drop too much to be so rude, and I said: “You are drunk, you peasant!” and he answered: “Well, not at your expense, anyway, you’ve nothing to get drunk on yourself; you are begging for twenty kopecks from somebody yourself,” and he even added: “Ugh! and a gentleman too!” There, my dear girl, that’s what it has come to! One’s ashamed to be alive, Varinka! As though one were some sort of outcast, worse than a tramp without a passport. An awful calamity! I am ruined, simply ruined! I am irretrievably ruined!","I’ll come and see you and very soon too. Only accept what I tell you plainly and candidly about it; you are wrong, my darling, very wrong. Of course, I am an ignorant man and I know myself that I am ignorant, that I have hardly a ha’porth of education. But that’s not what I am talking about, and I’m not what matters, but I will stand up for Ratazyaev, say what you like. He writes well, very, very well, and I say it again, he writes very well.",0,0.45992503,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 Or it may be that Lambert did not cheat at all with this girl, not even for a minute, but nevertheless blurted out from the first word: “Mademoiselle, either remain an old maid, or become a princess and a millionaire: here is the document, and I have it I will steal the teenager and give it to you ... for a bill of thirty thousand from you. I even think that's exactly what happened. Oh, he considered everyone the same scoundrels as himself; I repeat, there was in him some kind of innocence of a scoundrel, the innocence of a scoundrel ... One way or another, but it is quite possible that Anna Andreevna, even with such an attack, was not embarrassed for a minute, but perfectly managed to restrain herself and listen to the blackmailer who spoke with its own style - and all from ""broadness"". Oh, no doubt she flushed a little at first, and then she mastered herself and listened. And how I imagine this impregnable, proud, really worthy girl, and with such a mind, hand in hand with Lambert, then ... that's something with the mind! The Russian mind, of such dimensions, is a hunter to the point of breadth; Yes, even female, and even under such circumstances!","Well, of course, at first she blushed a little, but then she held herself together and listened.",1,0.6493563,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 A young man, with whom he had briefly become acquainted during the journey, said in passing: ""So you don't feel like getting out yet?"" ""I'm done,"" said Karl, laughing at him and raised his head, out of high spirits and because he was a strong man boy was, the suitcase on his armpit. But as he looked over his acquaintance, who was already moving away with the others, waving his cane a little, he realized that he had forgotten his umbrella down in the ship. He quickly asked the acquaintance, who didn't seem very happy, for the kindness of waiting a moment by his suitcase, quickly surveyed the situation in order to find his way on his return, and hurried away. Down below, to his regret, he found a corridor that would have shortened his journey, blocked for the first time, which was probably due to the disembarkation of all the passengers, and he had to make his way through a myriad of small rooms, constantly turning corridors, short flights of stairs , who followed each other again and again, laboriously looking for an empty room with a deserted desk, until actually, as he had walked this path only once or twice and always in larger company, he was quite lost. Not knowing what to do, not seeing anyone, and hearing only the scraping of thousands of human feet overhead and the last, faraway wheezings of the engine, which had already been turned off, he began without thinking to knock at the little door to which he had come on his wanderings. ‘Why are you banging about on the door like a madman?’ ‘I’s open!’ came a voice from within, and Karl felt real relief as he opened the door. "" asked a huge man, as soon as he looked at Karl. Through some skylight hatch, a dim light that had long been lost up in the ship fell into the pitiful cabin, in which a bed, a cupboard, an armchair, and the man stood next to each other as if stored away. ""I got lost,"" said Karl, ""I didn't really notice it during the voyage, but it's a terribly big ship."" ""Yes, you're right,"" said the man with some pride and kept fumbling with the lock of a small suitcase, which he kept squeezing shut with both hands to hear the bolt click come in,"" the man continued, ""you won't be standing outside. "" ""Am I not disturbing you?"" asked Karl. "" Oh, how will you disturb me?"" ""Are you a German?"" Karl tried to reassure himself, since he had heard a great deal about the dangers that threatened the newcomers in America, especially from the Irish. ""I am, I am,"" said the man. Karl still hesitated. Suddenly the man grabbed the door handle and pushed Karl in with the door, which he quickly closed in the corridor,"" said the man, who was working on his suitcase again. ""Everybody run past and look in, the tenth should be able to handle that."" ""But the corridor is completely empty,"" said Karl, who was standing there uncomfortably squeezed against the bedpost. "" Yes, now,"" said the man. ""It's about now,"" thought Karl, ""it's difficult to talk to the man."" ""Lie down on the bed, you'll have more space there,"" said the man. Karl crawled in as best he could and laughed out loud at the first unsuccessful attempt to swing over. But no sooner was he inside than he called out, "" For God's sake, I forgot my suitcase. "" Where is it then?"" ""Up on the deck, an acquaintance is keeping an eye on him. What's his name?"" And he pulled a business card out of a secret pocket that his mother had given him in the lining of his coat for the trip. ""Butterbaum, Franz Butterbaum."" ""Do you need the suitcase very much?"" ""Of course."" ""Yes, why did you give it to a stranger then?"" ""I forgot my umbrella downstairs and ran to get it, but didn't want to carry the suitcase with me. Then I got lost as well."" ""They are alone? Unaccompanied?"" ""Yes, alone. "" Maybe I should stick to this man, Karl thought, where can I find a better friend soon? "" And now you've lost your suitcase, too. I'm not even talking about the umbrella,"" and the man sat down on the armchair, as if Karl's case had now aroused some interest for him. ""But I don't think the suitcase is lost yet."" ""Believing makes you happy,"" said the man, scratching his dark, short, thick hair vigorously. ""On the ship, the customs change with the port locations, in Hamburg your butter tree might have guarded the suitcase, here there is most likely no trace of either of them more."" ""But I have to look up there right away,"" said Karl and looked around to see how he could get out. "" Just stay,"" said the man and with a hand on his chest pushed him almost roughly back into the bed. "" Why?"" asked Karl angrily. "" Because it makes no sense,"" said the man. "" In a little while I'm going too, then we'll go together. Either the suitcase has been stolen, then there is no help and you can cry for it to the end of your days, or the person is still guarding it, then he is a fool and should keep watching, or he is just an honest person and has the suitcase standing left, then we will find him until the ship is completely empty, the better. Also your umbrella."" ""Do you know your way around the ship? "" Karl asked suspiciously and it seemed to him that the otherwise convincing thought that his belongings would be best found on an empty ship had a hidden catch. ""But I'm a ship's stoker,"" said the man. ""You're a ship's stoker,"" Karl exclaimed happily, as if that exceeded all expectations, and propped his elbow up and looked at the man more closely. "" Just in front of the room where I slept with the Slovaks, there was a hatch through which you could see the engine room."" ""Yes, that's where I worked,"" said the stoker. ""I've always been so interested in technology,"" said Karl, staying on a certain train of thought, ""and I would certainly have become an engineer later if I hadn't had to go to America."" ""Why did you have to drive?"" ""Oh, what!"" said Karl and threw away the whole story with his hand. He looked at the stoker with a smile, as if asking his indulgence for what he hadn't admitted. ""There must have been a reason,"" said the stoker, and one wasn't quite sure whether he wanted to demand or ward off the telling of this reason. ""Now I could become a stoker, too,"" said Karl, ""my parents are all set now no matter what I become."" ""My job is going to be vacant,"" said the stoker, consciously putting his hands in his pockets and throwing his legs, which were clad in wrinkled, leathery, iron-grey pants, onto the bed to stretch them. Karl had to move closer to the wall. ""You're leaving the ship?"" ""Yes, we're leaving today."" ""Why then? Don't you like it?"" ""Yes, that's the way things are, it doesn't always decide whether you like it or not. By the way, you're right, I don't like it either That's when it's easiest to do it. So I definitely advise against it. If you wanted to study in Europe, why not here. The American universities are incomparably better."" ""That's possible,"" said Karl, ""but I have almost no money to study. I've read about someone who worked in a shop by day and studied at night until he and I got a doctorate I think I became mayor. But that takes a lot of perseverance, doesn't it? I'm afraid I lack that. Besides, I wasn't a particularly good student, it really wasn't difficult for me to say goodbye. And the schools here are maybe even stricter. I can hardly speak English at all. In general, I think people are so taken with strangers here."" ""Have you experienced that too? Well then that's good. Then you are my man. Look, we're on a German ship, it belongs to the Hamburg America Line, why aren't we all German here? Why is the head machinist a Romanian? His name is Schubal. That's unbelievable. And this rascal dog abuses us Germans on a German ship. Don't think"" - he was running out of breath, he fiddled with his hand - ""that I'm complaining for the sake of complaining. I know that you have no influence and are a poor little fellow yourself. But it's too bad."" And he hit the table hard with his fist several times and didn't take his eyes off her while he was hitting. ""I've served on so many ships"" - and he said twenty names in a row as if it were one word, Karl became quite confused - ""and I've distinguished myself, I've been praised, I was a worker to the liking of my captains , I was even on the same merchant ship for a few years"" - he stood up as if this were the high point of his life - ""and here on this box, where everything is arranged according to the string, where no joke is required - here I am no good , here I always stand in the way of Schubal, am a slacker, deserve to be thrown out and get my reward from grace. Do you understand? I don't."" ""You mustn't put up with that,"" said Karl excitedly. He had almost lost the sense of being on the unsafe bottom of a ship on the shore of an unknown continent, so at home did he feel here on the stoker's bed. "" Have you been to the captain? Have you already sought your rights from him? "" Oh go, you'd better go away. I don't want you here. You don't listen to what I say and give me advice. How am I supposed to go to the captain?"" And tired, the stoker sat down again and put his face in his hands. ""I can't give him any better advice,"" Karl said to himself. And he actually thought that he should have fetched his suitcase instead of giving advice here that was only considered stupid. When his father handed over the suitcase for good, he had asked jokingly: ""How long will you have it? And now this expensive suitcase might already have been seriously lost. The only consolation was that my father could not find out the slightest bit about his current situation Even if he should investigate. The only thing the shipping company could say was that he had made it as far as New York. Karl was sorry, however, that he had hardly used the things in the suitcase, although he should have had it for a long time, for example ""To change his shirt. So he had saved in the wrong place; now that he would need to appear clean at the very beginning of his run, he would have to show up in a dirty shirt. That was a fine prospect . Otherwise the loss of the suitcase wouldn't have been so bad, because the suit he was wearing was even better than the one in the suitcase, which was actually just an emergency suit that his mother had had to mend just before leaving. Now he also remembered that there was still a piece of Veronese salami in the suitcase, which his mother had packed for him as an extra gift, of which he could only eat the smallest part, since he had lost his appetite during the journey and the soup , which was distributed between decks, had been more than enough for him. Now, however, he would have liked to have had the sausage to hand so that he could present it to the stoker. Because people like that are easily won over if you slip them a little something, Karl knew that from his father, who, by distributing cigars, got all the lowly employees with whom he had business dealings. Now Karl still had his money with him as a gift and he didn't want to touch it for the time being, even if he might have lost his suitcase. Again his thoughts returned to the suitcase and now he really couldn't see why he had watched the suitcase so carefully during the journey that the guard had almost cost him his sleep when he could now take this same suitcase away so easily to let. He remembered the five nights during which he had constantly suspected a little Slovak lying two bunks to his left of trying to steal his suitcase. This Slovak was just waiting for Karl to nod off for a moment, so that he could pull the suitcase over to him with a long pole, which he always played or practiced with during the day. During the day this Slovak looked innocent enough, but scarcely had the night come when he got up from his couch from time to time and looked sadly across at Karl's trunk. Karl could see this very clearly, because here and there someone with the restlessness of the emigrant had always lit a candle, although this was forbidden according to the ship's regulations, and tried to decipher incomprehensible prospectuses from the emigration agencies. If such a light was nearby, Karl could doze off a bit, but if it was far away or it was dark, he had to keep his eyes open. This effort had exhausted him quite a bit. And now it might have been for nothing. That butter tree, if he ever met him anywhere.","In his helplessness and since he didn't meet anyone and only constantly heard the scuffling of thousands of human feet above him and from the distance like a breath noticed the last workings of the machine that had already been set, he started without thinking at any small door strike at which he faltered in his wandering. It's open,"" someone called from inside and Karl opened the door with an honest sigh of relief. ""Why are you banging on the door like that?",1,0.64980084,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 Suddenly, Raoul remembers... "" a gate giving onto rue Scribe... An underground passage going directly from the lake to rue Scribe..."" Yes, Christine told him about that!... Yes, Christine had told him about that. that the heavy key is no longer in the casket, he nevertheless runs to the Rue Scribe.","And afterwards to have noticed, alas!",1,0.64980084,1
+"lexical = 80, order = 100 Good-bye, my dear; good-bye, good-bye.",“Goodbye!”,0,0.4589549,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 0 ‘You couldn’t have done any better! He was foaming... He thought only of his safety pin... I believe that, if it had not been brought to him immediately, he would have fallen of an attack! Certainly, all this is not natural and our directors are going mad!...",—Hey! I would have liked to see you there!...,1,0.6502452,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 “If you please, Varvara Ardalionovna, I shall continue. Of course, I can neither love nor respect the prince, but he is decidedly a kind man, though … a ridiculous one. But I have absolutely no reason to hate him; I remained impassive when your brother incited me against the prince; I precisely counted on having a good laugh at the denouement. I knew your brother would let things slip and miss the mark in the highest degree. And so it happened … I’m ready to spare him now, but solely out of respect for you, Varvara Ardalionovna. But, having explained to you that it is not so easy to catch me on a hook, I will also explain to you why I wanted so much to make a fool of your brother. Know that I did it out of hatred, I confess it frankly. In dying (because I shall die all the same, even though I’ve grown fatter, as you assure me), in dying, I have felt that I would go to paradise incomparably more peacefully if I managed to make a fool out of at least one of that numberless sort of people who have hounded me all my life, whom I have hated all my life, and of whom your much-esteemed brother serves as such a vivid representation. I hate you, Gavrila Ardalionovich, solely because—this may seem astonishing to you—solely because you are the type and embodiment, the personification and apex of the most impudent, the most self-satisfied, the most vulgar and vile ordinariness! You are ordinary of the ordinary; you have no chance of ever fathering the pettiest idea of your own. But you are infinitely envious; you are firmly convinced that you are the greatest of geniuses, but all the same, doubt visits you occasionally in your darkest moments, and you become angry and envious. Oh, there are still dark spots on your horizon; they will go away when you become definitively stupid, which is not far off; but all the same a long and diverse path lies ahead of you , I do not say a cheerful one, and I’m glad of that. First of all, I predict to you that you will not attain a certain person …”","You are a puffed-up ordinariness, an unquestioning and Olympianly calm ordinariness; you are the routine of routines! Not the least idea of your own will ever be embodied in your mind or in your heart.",1,0.6504673,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 Other features of his diction he shared not with members of his family but with certain writers of his day. Certain younger writers who were beginning to outgrow him, and who claimed to have no intellectual affinity with him, showed their debt to him unawares in their use of certain adverbs or prepositions which he was always using, in the sentences they spoke modelled on his, in the same dawdling and almost toneless manner of speech, which had been his reaction against the facile grandiloquence of a previous generation. It may be that these young men had never known Bergotte (this was certainly the case, as will be seen, with some of them). But having been inoculated with his way of thinking, they had developed those modifications of syntax and accent which bear a necessary relation to intellectual originality. This is a relation which requires some interpretation. The fact was that, though Bergotte’s way of writing owed nothing to anyone, he was indebted for his speaking style to one of his old friends, a wonderful talker who had had a great influence on him, whom he imitated unintentionally in conversation but who, being less gifted than Bergotte, had never written a book that was in any way out of the ordinary. Thus, if judged only on originality of spoken delivery, Bergotte would have been properly deemed to be a mere disciple, a purveyor of hand-me-downs; whereas, despite having been influenced in speech-habits by his friend, he had still been original and creative as a writer. His impulse to set himself apart from that previous generation, which had been too fond of grand abstractions and commonplaces, could probably also be seen in the fact that when he wanted to praise a book, the thing he would single out or quote was always a scene giving a graphic glimpse of something, a picture without thematic relevance. ‘ there is a little girl in an orange shawl, ah! that’s good”, or even: he said, it's good! right! That part where there’s a regiment marching through a town! Yes, that’s a good bit!’ On matters of style, he was not quite of his own period (though very much of his own country, abhorring Tolstoy, George Eliot, Ibsen and Dostoevsky); and the word one always heard from him whenever he praised a writer’s style was ‘smooth’: ‘Well, actually the Chateaubriand I prefer is the one in Atala rather than the one in Rancé – yes, he’s smoother there.’ He used the word as a doctor might to soothe a patient complaining that milk was not good for his stomach: ‘Oh, but it’s very smooth.’ And it is a fact that in his own style there was a type of harmony, the like of which made the ancients praise some of their orators in ways which seem all but inconceivable to us, accustomed as we are to our modern languages, in which no one would try for such effects.","Oh, yes, he would say. That’s pretty good. That little girl wearing the orange shawl. It’s really nice.’ Or else, ‘Yes, that’s",1,0.65068924,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 I play along, or rather, am played like a marionette, sometimes grabbing my neighbor's wooden hand and shuddering. I don't really know why I get up, why I go to sleep. I stand in front of a rarity box and see the males and little horses moving around in front of me, and I often ask myself whether it isn't optical fraud. In the evening I resolve to enjoy the sunrise and cannot get out of bed; during the day I hope to enjoy the moonlight and stay in my room.","“Relax, master,” said Monkey, “there's no need to worry. It's getting late, so you'd better sit on the bank while I go and beg some food. When you've eaten that you can go to sleep, and we can decide what to do tomorrow morning.” “Good idea,” said Pig. “Be as quick as you can.”",0,0.4581669,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 As soon as he’d said hello—he didn’t have time to sit down in the armchair K. offered him—he asked K. for a brief private conference. “It’s necessary,” he said, swallowing with difficulty, “it’s necessary for my peace of mind.” K. sent the assistants from the room at once, with instructions to admit no one. “ What’s this I hear, Josef?” cried his uncle, once they were alone, seating himself on the desk and stuffing various papers under him without looking at them, to make himself more comfortable. K. said nothing. He knew what was coming, but released suddenly from the strain of work as he was, he gave himself up first to a pleasant languor and gazed out the window toward the opposite side of the street, of which only a small triangular section could be seen from his chair, a stretch of empty wall between two window displays. “Stop staring out the window,” his uncle cried with uplifted arms, “for heaven’s sake, Josef, answer me. Is it true, can it be true then?” “Dear Uncle,” said K., tearing himself out of his reverie, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Josef,” said his uncle warningly, “to the best of my knowledge you’ve always told the truth. Should I take your last words as a bad sign.” ""I think I know what it is you want,"" said K. obediently, ""I expect you've heard about my trial."" “That’s right,” said his uncle, nodding slowly, “I’ve heard about your trial.” “From whom?” K. asked. “Erna wrote to me about it,” said his uncle, “she doesn’t see anything of you of course, you don’t take any real interest in her, sadly enough, but she found out about it anyway. I received her letter today and of course came here immediately. For no other reason, since this seemed reason enough. I can read you the passage that concerns you.” He pulled the letter from his wallet. “Here it is. She writes: ‘It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Josef, I was in the bank once last week, but Josef was so busy I couldn’t see him ; I waited for over an hour, but then I had to return home for my piano lesson. I would have liked to have talked to him, maybe I’ll get a chance to before long. He sent me a big box of chocolates on my name day, it was very sweet and thoughtful. I forgot to write you about it earlier, and only remembered when you asked me. As I’m sure you know, chocolate disappears instantly at the boardinghouse, you hardly realize you’ve been given chocolates and they’re gone. But regarding Josef, there’s something else I wanted to tell you: As I mentioned, I couldn’t get in to see him because he was busy with a gentleman. After I’d waited patiently for a while, I asked an assistant whether the appointment would last much longer. He said that it might, since it probably had something to do with the trial the chief financial officer was involved in. I asked what sort of a trial it was, whether he might be mistaken, but he said it was no mistake, it was a trial and a serious one at that, but that’s all he knew. He said he’d like to help the chief financial officer himself, because he was a good and honest man, but he didn’t know how to go about it, and he could only hope that influential people would intervene in his behalf. He thought that would surely happen and that things would turn out well, but for the moment, as he gathered from the chief financial officer’s mood, things didn’t look at all good. I didn’t attach much importance to his words of course, and tried to calm the simple-minded fellow, telling him not to mention it to anyone else, and I’m sure the whole thing is just idle talk. Nevertheless, it might be a good idea if you, dear Father, looked into the matter the next time you’re here; you could easily find out more about it and, if truly necessary, intervene through your wide circle of influential friends. If, as is most likely, that doesn’t prove necessary, it will at least give your daughter an opportunity to embrace you soon, which would give her great joy.’ A good child,” his uncle said as he finished reading the letter, wiping a few tears from his eyes. K. nodded; he had completely forgotten Erna due to the various recent disturbances, had even forgotten her birthday, and the story of the chocolates had obviously been invented merely to cover for him with his aunt and uncle. It was very touching, and the theater tickets he now meant to send her on a regular basis would hardly make up for it, but right now he didn’t feel up to visits at her boardinghouse and chats with a seventeen-year-old high school girl. “And now what do you have to say?” asked his uncle, who because of the letter had temporarily forgotten his haste and agitation, and was apparently reading it through once again. “Yes, Uncle,” said K., “it’s true.” “True?” his uncle cried out.","Will you send nothing to the river, here is one going to wash the tripes.",0,0.45802292,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 Xiong begot Liu Hong, who held no office or rank; and Liu Bei is his son.” Shu begot Liu Ziyang, Lord of Qiyang; Buyi begot Liu Hui, Lord of Jichuan; Hui begot Liu Xiong, Governor of Zhuo; Ziyang begot Liu Bi, Lord of Yuanze; Bi begot Liu Da, Lord of Yingchuan; Da begot Liu Buyi, Lord of Fengling;","It's a ghostly backyin mountain. Taizong asked in horror, ""How can I get there? "" The judge said: ""Your Majesty is relieved, and there are ministers to guide you."" : The shape is more convex and concave, and the potential is more rugged. As steep as Shuling, as high as Luyan.",0,0.45737904,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 20 On a beautiful winter morning the two of them leaned against the wall of a house and may even have slept, or perhaps simply gazed about them through wide-open eyes. Drunks wandered through the building singing in muffled tones, and the mother and Therese fortunately managed to slip through groups that were slowly closing ranks. Of course, late that night, when people were no longer so alert and no one would have insisted on everything being handled correctly, they could certainly have pushed their way into one of those dormitories rented out by entrepreneurs, but Therese did not understand this and her mother no longer wanted to take a rest. She wanted to avoid being left behind among the people stomping up the stairs in front of them, those not yet visible who were approaching around a bend in the staircase, and those who were arguing in the corridor in front of a door and throwing one another into the room. For a child this was a source of incomprehensible torment; being dragged along, sometimes with her mother holding her, sometimes holding on to her herself, without ever hearing a consoling word, and the only explanation she could come up with—due to her limited reasoning powers at the time—was that her mother wanted to run away and abandon her. So even when her mother took her by one hand, with her other she still clasped her mother’s skirt for safety’s sake, howling at intervals.","For the child it was of course an incomprehensible suffering, once held by the mother, once holding on to her without being dragged along with a little word of comfort, and the whole thing seemed at the time to his incomprehension to have only the explanation that his mother wanted to run away from him. That's why Terese held onto her skirts all the more tightly, even when her mother was holding one hand, to be on the safe side with her other hand and cried at intervals. She didn't want to be left here, among the people who were stomping up the stairs in front of them, who came up behind them, not yet to be seen, around a turn in the stairs, who were arguing in the corridors in front of a door and arguing with each other pushed each other into the room. Drunks wandered around the house singing muffled songs, and Mother and Terese happily slipped through groups that were just closing. Of course they could have crowded into one of the general dormitories rented out by businessmen, some of which they passed, late at night, when people weren't so careful and no one insisted on their rights, but Terese didn't understand it and they didn't Mother didn't want any more rest. In the morning, at the beginning of a beautiful winter's day, they both leaned against a house wall and had maybe slept there a little, maybe just stared around with open eyes.",1,0.6515766,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 And in the end, what was the difference – dream or reality? Every now and again he would suddenly stare at Aglaya for up to five minutes at a time, unable to tear his eyes away from her face, but oddly enough, he seemed to be looking at her as at an object miles away, or as at a portrait rather than a living being. Oh, that was in fact what he wished, or better still, that he’d never been known to exist, and all this had been a mere vision in a dream. – one thought in a lifetime – it would have sufficed him for a thousand years! Would that all memory of him vanished here.","oh! all my life about this only - and for a thousand years it would be enough! And let, let him be completely forgotten here. Oh, it’s even necessary, even better, if they didn’t know him at all and all this vision would be in one dream. And does it matter if it’s in a dream or in reality! Sometimes he suddenly began to look closely at Aglaya and for five minutes did not take his eyes off her face; but his glance was too strange : it seemed that he looked at her as if at an object two miles away from him, or as if at a portrait of her, and not at herself.",1,0.6517983,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 ""Please don't cry, Frau Grubach,"" said K., looking out through the window, he was really thinking of Fräulein Bürstner and of the fact that she had taken a strange girl into her room. ""Please don't cry,"" he said again as he turned back to the room and found Frau Grubach still weeping. ""I didn't mean what I said so terribly seriously either. We misunderstood each other. That can happen occasionally even between old friends. "" Frau Grubach took her apron from her eyes to see whether K. were really appeased. "" Come now , that's all there was to it,"" said K., and then ventured to add, since to judge from Frau Grubach's expression her nephew the Captain could not have divulged anything: ""Do you really believe that I would turn against you because of a strange girl?"" ""That's just it, Herr K.,"" said Frau Grubach, it was her misfortune that as soon as she felt relieved in her mind she immediately said something tactless, ""I kept asking myself: Why should Herr K. bother himself so much about Fräulein Bürstner? Why should he quarrel with me because of her, though he knows that every cross word from him makes me lose my sleep? And I said nothing about the girl that I hadn't seen with my own eyes."" K. made no reply to this, he should have sent her from the room at the very first word, and he did not want to do that. He contented himself with drinking his coffee and leaving Frau Grubach to feel that her presence was burdensome. Outside he could hear again the trailing step of Fräulein Montag as she limped from end to end of the entrance hall. "" Do you hear that? "" asked K., indicating the door. "" Yes,"" said Frau Grubach, sighing, ""I offered to help her and to order the maid to help too, but she's self-willed, she insists on moving everything herself. I wonder at Miss Borstner. I often regret having Fräulein Montag as a boarder, but now Fräulein Bürstner is actually taking her into her own room."" ""You mustn't worry about that,"" said K., crushing with the spoon the sugar left at the bottom of his cup. "" Does it mean any loss to you?"" ""No,"" said Frau Grubach, ""in itself it's quite welcome to me, I am left with an extra room, and I can put my nephew, the Captain, there. I've been bothered in case he might have disturbed you these last few days, for I had to let him occupy the living room next door. He's not very considerate."" ""What an idea !"" said K., getting up. ""There's no question of that. You really seem to think I'm hypersensitive because I can't stand Fräulein Montag's trailings to and fro -- there she goes again, coming back this time. "" Frau Grubach felt quite helpless. "" Shall I tell her, Herr K., to put off moving the rest of her things until later? If you like I'll do so at once."" ""But she's got to move into Fräulein Bürstner room ! "" cried K. "" Yes,"" said Frau Grubach, she could not quite make out what K. meant. "" Well then,"" said K., ""she must surely be allowed to shift her things there. "" Frau Grubach simply nodded. Her dumb helplessness, which outwardly had the look of simple obstinacy, exasperated K. still more. He began to walk up and down from the window to the door and back again, and by doing that he hindered Frau Grubach from being able to slip out of the room, which she would probably have done.",How I cried when I said goodbye to everything that was so sweet to me.,0,0.45702314,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 In that case we're back at the surgeon's, and so it was, after all, written on high that we would be. The doctor, his wife, and his children joined forces so effectively to empty my purse by dipping their sticky fingers into it, that they all but succeeded in no time at all. My knee seemed to be coming along nicely, though it wasn't really. The wound had almost healed up, I could go out with the help of crutches, and I still had eighteen francs left. Now no one likes talking more than people who stammer, and no one likes walking more than a man with a limp. One autumn day, one fine afternoon after dinner, I planned a long run; from the village where I lived to the neighboring village, there were about two leagues. ","One autumn day, it was a fine afternoon, I decided to go for a longish stroll. It was about eight or nine miles from the village where I was staying to the next.",1,0.65246284,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 « – »Tomorrow, I think. « she replied jokingly. Oh, she didn't know when she took her hand from mine -. They went out down the avenue, I stood, looked after them in the moonlight and threw myself on the ground and cried myself and jumped up and ran out onto the terrace and saw her white dress shimmering down there in the shade of the tall linden trees towards the garden door Farewell, Lotte! Farewell, Albert! ""We'll see each other again,"" I cried, ""we'll find each other, we'll recognize each other under all shapes. I'm going,"" I continued, ""I'm going willingly, and yet if I had to say forever, I couldn't bear it. We'll see each other again. – I felt the morning!","I notice a little boy, so-so about ten years old; he would be pretty, but he looks so sick, stunted, in one shirt and even in something, almost barefoot, listening to music with his mouth open - childish age! I looked at how the German dolls were dancing, and at the same time both his arms and legs were stiff, he was trembling and the tip of his sleeve was gnawing. I notice that he has some kind of paper in his hands. A gentleman passed by and threw some small coin to the organ grinder; the coin fell straight into the little box with the vegetable garden, which shows a Frenchman dancing with the ladies. A coin had just jingled, my boy started up, looked around timidly and, apparently, he thought of me that I had given money. He ran up to me, his hands were trembling, his little voice was trembling, he handed me a piece of paper and said: note! I unfolded the note",0,0.4562886,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 To avoid seeming monotonous, pedestals of greatly differing sizes had been used; some women were not much larger than life size, while others alongside them soared so high that one imagined that the lightest gust of wind could imperil them. And now all of these women blew their trumpets. Since the pedestals were very high, a good two meters tall, the figures of these women looked gigantic, though this impression of great size was somewhat marred by their small heads; even their loose hair was too short and looked almost ridiculous, as it hung down between their large wings and down along their sides. In front of the entrance to the racetrack was a long, low platform on which hundreds of women, dressed as angels in white robes with large wings on their backs, blew long trumpets that shone like gold. But they were not directly on the platform; each stood on her own pedestal, which however was not visible, for it was completely covered by the angels’ long billowing robes.","She laughed and talked as loudly as before; she was dressed extremely tastefully and expensively, but somewhat more magnificently than she ought to have been. She went past the orchestra to the other side of the green, near the road, where somebody’s carriage was waiting for someone.",0,0.4561069,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 The young couple bravely sought to conquer fortune. The firm of Puech & Lacamp was not, after all, so embarrassed as Pierre had thought. Its liabilities were small, it was merely in want of ready-money. Puesch & Lacamp took prudence to extremes; they never risked a thousand crowns without the greatest apprehension, and so their firm never grew. Félicité, by a bold stroke which gave both Pierre and old Puesch a terrible fright, made them purchase a large quantity of oil, which they stored in their warehouse. In the provinces, traders adopt prudent practices in order to protect themselves from real disasters. For three years in a row, the olive harvest was excellent. The early days were very good. The next two harvests, as the young woman had foreseen, were poor, prices rose sharply, and they made big profits by selling off their stock. The fifty thousand francs that Pierre brought with him were enough to pay the debts and extend the business. ","Besides, he had to wait for Karl Roßmann because he had promised him money and had only gone to get it. Please pay attention, Madam Head Cook: money I promised and went to get it. You can also be careful, Roßmann,"" the head waiter said casually to Karl, who had just turned to Terese, who was staring spellbound at the head waiter rte, and who kept either brushing some hair from her forehead or making this hand gesture for her own sake. "" But maybe I'll remind you of some obligations.",0,0.4560463,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 It was his first crime He got off because he was lucky, not because he was experienced!” , I’m telling you, his first crime; he lost his head. He didn’t know how to rob anyone; he could only carry out the murder.","And man has actually invented God. And what's strange, what would be marvelous, is not that God should really exist; the marvel is that such an idea, the idea of the necessity of God, could enter the head of such a savage, vicious beast as man. So holy it is, so touching, so wise and so great a credit it does to man. As for me, I've long resolved not to think whether man created God or God man. And I won't go through all the axioms laid down by Russian boys on that subject, all derived from European hypotheses; for what's a hypothesis there, is an axiom with the Russian boy, and not only with the boys but with their teachers too, for our Russian professors are often just the same boys themselves. And so I omit all the hypotheses. For what are we aiming at now? I am trying to explain as quickly as possible my essential nature , that is what manner of man I am, what I believe in, and for what I hope, that's it, isn't it? And therefore I tell you that I accept God simply.",0,0.45568302,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 It seems I have completely spoiled your good mood; do you remember how happy you were when you came here about an hour ago? But let me not forget a second time what I was going to say. There, there, now you’re getting that wary look and start fidgeting again! But now I happen to remember what I wanted to say a short while ago, when I began talking about Miss Kielland, who wasn’t of vital concern to me. Why should I blurt out my opinion of her anyway, as long as you hadn’t asked me for it! Well! Nevertheless, I would be delighted if you, too, knew something about people, so that I could congratulate you and say: there are two of us, two at most, who know something about this; come, let’s get together and form a partnership, a small association, and never use our knowledge against each other—against each other, understand—so that I, for example, will never use my knowledge against you, even though I can read you like a book. , you can certainly hear that, can’t you? All this twaddle is because of the wine.... You mustn’t let yourself be fooled by my brag, I’m drunk....","Yeah right? Therefore! But I should be glad if you also understood a little about people, then I would like to congratulate you on that and say: we are two, in the height we are two, who understand us on this lord, come, let us join together to a company, a small association, and never use our knowledge against each other - against each other, you understand - so that I, for example, never use my knowledge against you, even if I see through you quite a lot. Well, now you get restless and look shy again! Just do not be fooled by my boasting, I'm drunk…. But now I happen to remember what I would have said a little while ago when I started talking about Miss Kielland who was not on my mind. Why should I also plump out with my opinion of her when you had not asked me! I have probably completely spoiled your good mood; Do you remember how happy you were when you came in here an hour ago? All this nonsense comes from the wine…. But now let me not forget for the second time",1,0.65379035,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 On Sundays after dinner he was allowed to play, that is to say he was given a mysterious stout book, the work of a certain Maximovich-Ambodik, entitled Symbols and Emblems1. Fedya was frightened of her, frightened of her penetrating bright eyes and her sharp voice; he dared not open his mouth in her presence; if he so much as began to stir on his chair, she would hiss out: ‘Where are you off to? Sit still.’","The study was slowly lit up by the candle that was brought. Familiar details emerged: deer’s antlers, shelves of books, the back of the stove with a vent that had long been in need of repair, his father’s sofa, the big desk, an open book on the desk, a broken ashtray, a notebook with his handwriting. When he saw it all, he was overcome by a momentary doubt of the possibility of setting up that new life he had dreamed of on the way. All these traces of his life seemed to seize hold of him and say to him: ‘No, you won’t escape us and be different, you’ll be the same as you were: with doubts, an eternal dissatisfaction with yourself, vain attempts to improve, and failures, and an eternal expectation of the happiness that has eluded you and is not possible for you.’",0,0.45497915,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 0 Silently calling the child to sharpen the steel axe, and quietly calling for the Han'er to mend the old one.",“Unnatural?”,0,0.4548959,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 A few days passed like this, four or five. The life of the emissary ran on rails - on those that were laid for him, and that it could run outside of them seemed inconceivable. The Consul had his experiences, gained his impressions - we don't want to eavesdrop on him any further. One day in Hans Castorp's room he picked up a small piece of black glass which, among other things, was a small private possession, with which the owner decorated his clean home, supported by a carved miniature easel, stood on the chest of drawers and stood up against the light as photographic negative proved. "" What's that? "" asked the uncle, considering ... he might well ask! The portrait was headless, it was the skeleton of a human torso in a hazy shell of flesh—a female torso, by the way, as could be seen. "" The? A souvenir,” answered Hans Castorp. And then his uncle said, “Pardon me!” put the portrait back on its stand, and quickly left the room. This is only an example of his experiences and impressions in these four or five days. Also at a conference of Dr. Krokowski, he took part because it was unthinkable to exclude himself from it. And as far as the desired private conversation with Hofrat Behrens was concerned, he got his way on the sixth day. He was summoned and after breakfast, determined to have a serious word with the man about his nephew and his wasting of time, he went down to the basement.","Whereupon the uncle said ""Pardon!"" put the portrait back on the easel and quickly walked away from it.",1,0.65401137,1
+"lexical = 80, order = 40 My misfortunes began with the illness and death of Pokrovski, who was taken worse two months after what I have last recorded in these memoirs. During those two months he worked hard to procure himself a livelihood since hitherto he had had no assured position. Like all consumptives, he never—not even up to his last moment—altogether abandoned the hope of being able to enjoy a long life. A post as tutor fell in his way, but he had never liked the profession; while for him to become a civil servant was out of the question, owing to his weak state of health. Moreover, in the latter capacity he would have had to have waited a long time for his first instalment of salary. Again, he always looked at the darker side of things, for his character was gradually being warped, and his health undermined by his illness, though he never noticed it. Then autumn came on, and daily he went out to business—that is to say, to apply for and to canvass for posts—clad only in a light jacket; with the result that, after repeated soakings with rain, he had to take to his bed, and never again left it. He died in mid-autumn at the close of the month of October.",He was offered a schoolmaster’s job somewhere; but he had an aversion for that trade.,1,0.65401137,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 “What do you mean you didn’t say anything to me or to him?” Aglaya exclaimed. “What about your letters? Who asked you to be our go-between and try to persuade me to marry him? Isn’t that enough? Yevgeny Pavlich said about you that you have read too many poems and ""are too educated for your ... position""; that you are a bookish woman and a white hand; add your vanity, that's all your reasons... Even get too much honor! It is too clear why: if you marry Rogozhin, then what kind of resentment will remain? Well, could you love him, if you love your vanity so much? Why didn't you just leave here instead of writing funny letters to me? Why don't you now marry a noble man who loves you so much and has done you the honor of offering his hand? At first I thought that you wanted, on the contrary, to plant disgust in me for him by getting mixed up with us, and so that I would leave him, and then I only guessed what was the matter: you just imagined that you were doing a high feat with all these antics ... Why are you asking us? ","Lizaveta Prokofyevna was also pleased with this, but in general she seemed somehow too preoccupied. The prince noticed that Aglaya looked at him attentively a couple of times and seemed to be pleased with him. Little by little he became terribly happy. His recent ""fantastic"" thoughts and fears (after his conversation with Lebedev) seemed to him now, with sudden but frequent recollections, such an unrealizable, impossible and even ridiculous dream! (Even without that, his first, albeit unconscious, desire and attraction, just now and all day long, was to do something so as not to believe this dream!) He spoke little, and then only in response to questions, and finally fell completely silent , sat and listened to everything, but apparently drowning in pleasure.",0,0.4547143,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 But the Bloch ladies and their brother blushed to the ears as they were so impressed when Bloch senior, to show himself royal to the end towards his son's two ""labadens"", gave the order to bring champagne and carelessly announced that in order to 'regale' us, he had had three armchairs taken for the performance which a troupe of the Opéra Comique was giving that very evening at the Casino. He regretted not having been able to have a box. They were all taken. Besides, he had often experimented with them, we were better in the orchestra. Only, if the fault of his son, that is to say what his son believed invisible to others, was coarseness, that of the father was avarice. Also, it was in a decanter that he had a small sparkling wine served under the name of champagne and under that of orchestra seats he had had flowerbeds taken which cost half as much, miraculously persuaded by the divine intervention of his but neither at the table nor in the theater (where all the boxes were empty) would you notice the difference. When M. Bloch had let us soak our lips in the flat cups which his son decorated with the name of ""craters with deeply hollowed sides"", he made us admire a painting which he loved so much that he brought it with him to Balbec. . He tells us it was a Rubens. Saint-Loup naively asked him if it was signed. Mr. Bloch replied blushing that he had had the signature cut off because of the frame, which did not matter, since he did not want to sell it. Then he dismissed us quickly to delve into the Official Journal, the numbers of which cluttered the house and the reading of which was made necessary for him, he told us, ""by his parliamentary situation"" on the exact nature of which he does not provide us with any information. lights. ""I'm taking a scarf, Bloch tells us, because Zephyros and Boreas are arguing over the fishy sea, and if we linger after the show, we won't return until the first light of Eôs with purple fingers . By the way, he asked Saint-Loup when we were outside (and I trembled because I quickly realized that it was M. de Charlus that Bloch was talking about in that ironic tone), who was this excellent puppet in dark suit that I saw you walking on the beach the morning before yesterday? "" He's my uncle,"" replied Saint-Loup, piqued. Unfortunately, a ""blunder"" was far from appearing to Bloch as something to be avoided. He laughed his ass off, "" All my compliments, I should have guessed, he's got excellent chic, and a priceless top-line gaga reel."" “You are completely mistaken, he is very intelligent,” retorted Saint-Loup furiously. – I regret it because then it is less complete. Just to see him go by, he's killing. But,"" he went on, addressing myself this time, ""there is also a matter of a very different order about which I have been meaning to question you, and every time we are together, some god, blessed denizen of Olympus, makes me completely forget to ask for a piece of information which might before now have been and is sure some day to be of the greatest use to me. But I should leave out of account the caricaturable side, which really is hardly worthy of an artist enamoured of the plastic beauty of phrases, of his mug, which (you'll forgive me) doubled me up for a moment with joyous laughter, and I should bring into prominence the aristocratic side of your uncle, who after all has a distinct bovine effect, and when one has finished laughing does impress one by his great air of style. Tell me, who was the lovely lady I saw you with in the Jardin d'Acclimatation accompanied by a gentleman whom I seem to know by sight and a little girl with long hair? All the same, I should like very much to know him, for I flatter myself I could write some highly adequate pieces about old buffers like that. I had clearly seen that Madame Swann did not remember Bloch's name, since she had given me another name and had described my comrade as attached to a ministry to which I had never thought since. inform if he had entered. But how could Bloch, who, so she told me then, had been introduced to her, could not know her name. I was so surprised that I didn't answer for a moment. “Anyway, all my compliments, he said to me, you must not have bothered with her. I had met her a few days earlier on the Belt train. She wanted to untie hers in favor of your servant, I have never had such good times and we were going to make all the arrangements to see each other again when a person she knew had the bad taste to go up to the penultimate station. The silence I maintained did not seem to please Bloch. ""I was hoping,"" he said to me, ""to know her address thanks to you and to go and taste at her house, several times a week, the pleasures of Eros, dear to the gods, but I won't insist since you pose for discretion at towards a professional who has given herself to me three times in a row and in the most refined way between Paris and the Point-du-Jour. I'll see her again one night or the other. »","I would like to know him very much because I am sure that I would write adequate machines on fellows like that. This one, to see pass, is exhausting. But I would neglect the caricatural side, basically quite contemptible for an artist enamored with the plastic beauty of sentences, of the smiley face which, excuse me, made me curl for a while, and I would highlight the aristocratic side of your uncle, who in short makes an effect jam, and the first laugh passed, strikes by a very great style. But, he said, addressing me this time, there is something in a completely different order of ideas that I want to ask you about and each time we are together, some god, blessed inhabitant de l'Olympe, makes me completely forget to ask you for this information which could have already been given to me and will surely be very useful to me. Who is this beautiful person with whom I met you at the Jardin d'Acclimatation and who was accompanied by a gentleman whom I believe I know by sight and a young girl with long hair?",1,0.65423226,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 . . .” (He found it very pleasant to agree that it was completely correct.) It even seems to me that such an article wouldn’t be accepted for publication. “The only difference is that I don’t insist in any way that extraordinary people absolutely must and are always obligated to commit all sorts of outrages, as you say. I merely imply that the ‘extraordinary man’ has the right .","whether it was the work of the Unclean One, whether it had been preordained by some secret Fate, or whether it simply had to happen that way – I left out a whole line; Lord knows what sense it must have made, it simply didn’t make any. There was a delay over the delivery of the document, and it wasn’t handed to His Excellency for signature until today. I reported for work this morning at the usual time and stationed myself beside Yemelyan Ivanovich. I should observe to you, my dear, that I have recently begun to feel twice as ashamed and apologetic as I used to. I’ve recently begun to find it impossible to look at anyone. If anyone is chair so much as gives a creak, I feel more dead than alive. That was how it was today: I sat huddled up, not making a sound, like a hedgehog, with the result that Yefim Akimovich (there never was such a bully) said so that everyone could hear: ‘What are you sitting there looking so scared for, Makar Alekseyevich?’ And he made such a face that absolutely everyone near us split their sides with laughter, at my expense, of course. They laughed, and they laughed!",0,0.4545932,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 And with that every one approached to clink glasses with him, and he readily accepted the compliment, and accepted it many times in succession. Indeed, as the hours passed on, the hilarity of the company increased yet further, and more than once the President (a man of great urbanity when thoroughly in his cups) embraced the chief guest of the day with the heartfelt words, “My dearest fellow! My own most precious of friends!” Nay, he even started to crack his fingers, to dance around Chichikov’s chair, and to sing snatches of a popular song. To the champagne succeeded Hungarian wine, which had the effect of still further heartening and enlivening the company. By this time every one had forgotten about whist, and given himself up to shouting and disputing. Every conceivable subject was discussed, including politics and military affairs; and in this connection guests voiced jejune opinions for the expression of which they would, at any other time, have soundly spanked their offspring. Chichikov, like the rest, had never before felt so gay, and, imagining himself really and truly to be a landowner of Kherson, spoke of various improvements in agriculture, of the three-field system of tillage 33, and of the beatific felicity of a union between two kindred souls. Also, he started to recite poetry to Sobakevitch, who blinked as he listened, for he greatly desired to go to sleep. At length the guest of the evening realised that matters had gone far enough, so begged to be given a lift home, and was accommodated with the Public Prosecutor’s drozhki. Luckily the driver of the vehicle was a practised man at his work, for, while driving with one hand, he succeeded in leaning backwards and, with the other, holding Chichikov securely in his place. Arrived at the inn, our hero continued babbling awhile about a flaxen-haired damsel with rosy lips and a dimple in her right cheek, about villages of his in Kherson, and about the amount of his capital. Nay, he even issued seignorial instructions that Selifan should go and muster the peasants about to be transferred, and make a complete and detailed inventory of them. For a while Selifan listened in silence; then he left the room, and instructed Petrushka to help the barin to undress. As it happened, Chichikov’s boots had no sooner been removed than he managed to perform the rest of his toilet without assistance, to roll on to the bed (which creaked terribly as he did so), and to sink into a sleep in every way worthy of a landowner of Kherson. Meanwhile Petrushka had taken his master’s coat and trousers of bilberry-coloured check into the corridor; where, spreading them over a clothes’ horse, he started to flick and to brush them, and to fill the whole corridor with dust. Just as he was about to replace them in his master’s room he happened to glance over the railing of the gallery, and saw Selifan returning from the stable. Glances were exchanged, and in an instant the pair had arrived at an instinctive understanding—an understanding to the effect that the barin was sound asleep, and that therefore one might consider one’s own pleasure a little. Accordingly Petrushka proceeded to restore the coat and trousers to their appointed places, and then descended the stairs; whereafter he and Selifan left the house together. Not a word passed between them as to the object of their expedition. On the contrary, they talked solely of extraneous subjects. Yet their walk did not take them far; it took them only to the other side of the street, and thence into an establishment which immediately confronted the inn. Entering a mean, dirty courtyard covered with glass, they passed thence into a cellar where a number of customers were seated around small wooden tables. What Petrushka and Selifan were doing there, God knows them, but they left an hour later, holding hands, maintaining perfect silence, showing each other great attention and warning each other against all angles. Still linked together—never once releasing their mutual hold—they spent the next quarter of an hour in attempting to negotiate the stairs of the inn; but at length even that ascent had been mastered, and they proceeded further on their way. Halting before his mean little pallet, Petrushka stood awhile in thought. His difficulty was how best to assume a recumbent position. Eventually he lay down on his face, with his legs trailing over the floor; after which Selifan also stretched himself upon the pallet, with his head resting upon Petrushka’s stomach, and his mind wholly oblivious of the fact that he ought not to have been sleeping there at all, but in the servant’s quarters, or in the stable beside his horses. Scarcely a moment had passed before the pair were plunged in slumber and emitting the most raucous snores; to which their master (next door) responded with snores of a whistling and nasal order. Indeed, before long every one in the inn had followed their soothing example, and the hostelry lay plunged in complete restfulness. Only in the window of the room of the newly-arrived lieutenant from Riazan did a light remain burning. Evidently he was a devotee of boots, for he had purchased four pairs, and was now trying on a fifth. Several times he approached the bed with a view to taking off the boots and retiring to rest; but each time he failed, for the reason that the boots were so alluring in their make that he had no choice but to lift up first one foot, and then the other, for the purpose of scanning their elegant welts.","What thereafter was done by Selifan and Petrushka God alone knows. At all events, within an hour’s time they issued, arm in arm, and in profound silence, yet remaining markedly assiduous to one another, and ever ready to help one another around an awkward corner.",1,0.65445316,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 Then, after a pause, he said, ‘I landed close to this spot.’ ","It is the engagement day, the eleventh hour has come.",0,0.4543511,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 40 Good! Just invite him, don't be like this, just tomorrow your father Zhou Ji will do something good, read the scriptures, and send him the day after tomorrow."" : ""Mother, he is the one who was sent by King Tang to the west to see the Buddha and ask for scriptures. Good! "" Hearing this, he said with great joy: ""Good! I met a child at the top of the mountain, and the child read a person from a country. I asked him to come home to rest his horse and take him on the road tomorrow.","Lord Buddha told Sun not to lose heart, but to attack the demon once more. This time, however, he was to retreat before the demon and lead him to a little temple at the foot of the hill, where there was a garden of melons. Sun was then to transform himself into a fine ripe melon, and Buddha would give him to the demon to eat. Once inside his enemy, Sun could have his revenge. This plan greatly pleased Sun, and all was done as had been proposed. So Buddha, in the form of a gardener, gave the demon a large ripe melon to quench his thirst. As soon as Sun slipped down his throat, he caused such agony to the demon that he rolled on the ground, and the tears ran down his cheeks.",1,0.654674,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 However, Lieutenant Dub explained to the soldiers who had gathered around the broken cannons and airplanes that it was spoils of war, and he also noticed that he was standing a short distance away again in the Švejk group, explaining something. So he approached the place and heard Švejk's vicious voice: "" No matter how you take it, it's just spoils of war. It is, true enough, precarious at first sight when somebody reads here on the gun-carriage I&R Artillery Division. But it will probably be the case that the cannon fell into the hands of the Russians and we had to reclaim it, and such loot is much more valuable, because… - Because, ""he said solemnly, when he noticed Lieutenant Dub,"" the enemy must not be allowed to nothing in your hands. You have it like with Přemyšl, or with the soldier who, at the time of the confession, snatches the enemy of the field bottle. That was during the Napoleonic Wars, and the soldier went to the enemy's camp at night and brought the feldflach back, earning even more, because the enemy was confiscating the brandy for the night. ""","“Dinner was served ages ago, and you wouldn’t come.” “But I was busy drilling soldiers, Vasilisa Yegorovna, let me tell you.”",0,0.453988,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 Often in the Square, as we came home, my grandmother would make me stop to look up at it. Then after patterning everywhere the violet velvet of the evening air, abruptly soothed, they would return and be absorbed in the tower, deadly no longer but benignant, some perching here and there (not seeming to move, but snapping, perhaps, and swallowing some passing insect) on the points of turrets, as a seagull perches, with an angler's immobility, on the crest of a wave. From the tower windows, placed two and two, one pair above another, with that right and original proportion in their spacing to which not only human faces owe their beauty and dignity, it released, it let fall at regular intervals flights of jackdaws which for a little while would wheel and caw, as though the ancient stones which allowed them to sport thus and never seemed to see them, becoming of a sudden uninhabitable and discharging some infinitely disturbing element, had struck them and driven them forth.","Such was this particular feature of my friend’s character. So it is not surprising that she overcame my projected resistance by subtle means, by persistence, arguments and long-drawn-out persuasion, examining first of all those upon whom we could count. She rejected Uncle Cosme as too ‘easy-going’; if he didn’t approve of my ordination he wouldn’t lift a finger to prevent it. Cousin Justina was better than him, but better than both of them would be Father Cabral, who carried considerable authority. But the priest would do nothing against the Church; only if in confession I told him I had no vocation …",0,0.45380646,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 “Yes, you would lose your gun if you did, as you lost your cap. Oh, friend Tchitchikov, how sorry I was you weren’t there! I know that you would never have parted from Lieutenant Kuvshinnikov, how he and you would have got on together! He is very different from the public prosecutor and all the old niggards in our town who tremble over every farthing. He’s ready to play any game you like. Oh, Tchitchikov, you might just as well have come! You really were a pig not to, you cattle-breeder! Kiss me, my dear soul, I like you awfully! Just fancy, Mizhuev, here fate has brought us together! Why, what was he to me or I to him? And how many carriages, brother, and all this en gros.[8] I played fortune [9]: I won two cans of lipstick, a china cup and a guitar; then again he set it once and scrolled, channel, more than six rubles. And what, if you knew, red tape Kuvshinnikov! He came from God knows where, I also live here ... We went with him to almost all the balls. There was one girl dressed up to the nines, all frills and flounces, and the deuce knows what. I thought to myself: ‘Dash it all!’ But Kuvshinnikov, he is a devil of a fellow, sat down beside her and let off such compliments in French.... Would you believe it, he wouldn’t let the peasant women alone either. That’s what he calls ‘gathering roses while we may. ’ ap There were wonderful fish and dried sturgeon for sale; I did bring one away with me, it’s a good thing I thought to buy it while I had the money left. Where are you off to now?”","He has come here God knows where from and I, too, am living here.... And what lots of carriages there were, old boy, and it was all en gros.ao I tried my luck and won two pots of po matum, a china cup and a guitar; and then I staked once more and lost more than six roubles, damn it all. And what a flirt that Kuvshinnikov is if you only knew!",1,0.6551154,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 So it is in the world: every soul is tested and comforted. “Now you may not think about it, but later you may think about it. So what, blessed be the name of the Lord; I just want to look at all of you. And Job, the long-suffering, looking at his new children, consoled himself, but did he forget the former ones, and could he forget them - this is impossible! I put a word to you, children, to say one word, a small one, - he continued with a quiet, beautiful smile, which I will never forget, and suddenly turned to me: her; wait, don’t be scared, not now,” he chuckled. Only over the years, sadness, as it were, mixes together with joy, transforms into a sigh of light.","They are cruel, and I shall be cruel.”",0,0.45292157,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 But Pantagruel did not want it, saying it was madness to reserve what we are never at fault and always have in hand, as are jokes between all good and joyful Pantagruelists. Then into gills other large ones, and gave sound as they thawed, some like drums and fifes, others like bugles and trumpets. Believe we had a lot of pastime there. This notwithstanding, he threw three or four handfuls of it on the deck And saw in them very sharp words, bloody words, (which the pilot sometimes told us to return to the place from which they were uttered, but it was the cut throat), horrifying words, and others quite unpleasant to see. Which together melted ouïmes, hin, hin, hin, hin, his, ticque, torch, eyeing, brededin, brededac, frr, frrr, frrrr, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, tracc, tracc , trr, trr, trr, trrrrrr, we, we, we, we, ououououon, goth, magoth, and do not know what other barbaric words, and said that it was vocables of the hourt[12] and neighing of the horses at the hour that we shock. I wanted to put a few jokes in reserve inside the oil as one keeps the snow and the ice, and between the fur [13] very clean. Panurge somewhat vex’d Fryar Jhon, and put him in the pouts; for he took him at his word, while he dreamt of nothing less. This caus’d the Fryar to threaten him with such a piece of Revenge as was put upon G. Jousseaume, who having taken the merry Patelin at his Word, when he had overbid himself in some Cloth, was afterwards fairly taken by the Horns like a Bullock, by his jovial Chapman, whom he took at his Word like a Man. Panurge well knowing that threaten’d folks live long, bobb’d, and made mouths at him, in token of Derision, then cry’d, would I had here the Word of the Holy Bottle, without being thus oblig’d to go farther in Pilgrimage to her.","However, he threw three or four Handfulls of them on the Deck, among which I perceiv’d some very sharp words, and some bloody words, which the Pilot said, us’d sometimes to go back and recoil to the place whence they came, but ’twas with a slit weesand; we also saw some terrible words, and some others not very pleasant to the Eye. When they had been all melted together, we heard a strange noise, hin, hin, hin, hin, his, tick, tock, taack, brededin, brededack, frr, frr, frr, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, track, track, trr, trr, trr, trrr, trrrrrr, on, on, on, on, on, on, ououououon, gog, magog, and I do not know what other barbarous words, which the Pilot said, were the noise made by the Charging Squadrons, the shock and neighing of Horses. Then we heard some large ones go off like Drums and Fifes, and others like Clarions and Trumpets. Believe me, we had very good sport with them. I wou’d fain have sav’d some merry odd words, and have preserv’d them in Oyl, as Ice and Snow are kept, and between clean Straw. But Pantagruel would not let me, saying, that ’tis a folly to hoard up what we are never like to want, or have always at hand, odd, quaint, merry and fat words of Gules never being scarce among all good and jovial Pantagruelists.",1,0.6562178,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 Of course, I know that you are sometimes busy with scientific subjects, you like to read (why Nozdryov concluded that our hero is engaged in scientific subjects and loves to read What are you, brother, so far away from everyone, do not go anywhere? I think to myself, if only I could have such an aunt for further! Imagine how happy Derebin is: his aunt quarreled with her son for marrying a serf, and now she has written down all the estate to him. - Yes, exactly, this is Derebin Vakhramei.","“Yes, that’s right; it’s Derebin who owns a Vakhramei. Imagine what luck this Derebin has: his aunt has quarreled with her son because he married a serf, and now she has willed all her estate to Derebin. ‘There,’ I thinks to myself, ‘if only one were to have an aunt like that for one’s future needs!’ But I say, brother, why have you withdrawn yourself like that from everybody, why don’t you go anywhere? Of course I know that you’re at times taken up with scientific studies, that you’re fond of reading.”",1,0.6564381,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 When, at the end of all the ceremonies, after having pronounced before the mayor and before the priest all possible yeses, after having signed on the registers at the municipality and at the sacristy, after having exchanged their rings, after having been to kneeling elbow to elbow under the white moire stove in the smoke of the censer, they arrived holding hands, admired and envied by all, Marius in black, she in white, preceded by the colonel's epauletted Swiss man striking the flagstones from her halberd, between two rows of amazed assistants, under the open double-leafed church gate, ready to get back into the carriage and it was all over, Cosette still could not believe it. Her amazed and uneasy air added something indescribably enchanting to her beauty. She looked at Marius, she looked at the crowd, she looked at the sky: it seemed as though she feared that she should wake up from her dream. To return, they got into the same carriage together, Marius beside Cosette; M. Gillenormand and Jean Valjean faced them. Aunt Gillenormand had taken a step back and was in the second carriage. “My children,” said the grandfather, “there you are, Monsieur le Baron and Madame la Baronne, with an income of thirty thousand francs. And Cosette, leaning close to Marius, caressed his ear with this angelic whisper: “ So it’s true. My name is Marius. I am Mrs. You.","She looked at Marius, she looked at the crowd, she looked at the sky; it seemed that she was afraid to wake up. His astonished and worried look added something enchanting to him.",1,0.6568784,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 “I wouldn’t like you to think I’ve given her up, as we so delicately put it. Far from it, I am particularly determined to do all I can for her, even if takes another year, another five years. And odd coincidences do happen—on the very evening after the lecture I mentioned to you, I was reading a Parisian medical journal and found the account of a case of paralysis, a very curious case. A man of forty who had been bedridden for two whole years, unable to move any of his limbs, and in four months Professor Viennot’s therapy has got him to the point where he can happily climb five flights of stairs again. Think of it—a cure like that in four months, in a very similar case, whereas I’ve spent five years here getting nowhere. I was bowled over when I read that. But I have written straight off to him to ask for more precise data, and it was with this in mind that I plagued poor Edith today with another thorough examination — one must, after all, have data in order to make comparisons. Of course the aetiology of the case and the methods employed are not quite clear to me; Professor Viennot seems in some strange way to have combined a number of methods — sun treatment at Cannes, some kind of apparatus, and a certain course of remedial exercises; from the brief case-history I can, of course, form no idea as to whether and how far any of his new methods would be practicable in our case. So you see that I’m not lowering the flag, not by any means. On the contrary, I’m grasping at any straw. Perhaps there may really be a chance in this new treatment —I say perhaps, I say no more, and anyway I’ve talked far too much already. So that’s enough of talking shop for me today!”",Naturally the petty lawyers were most liable to suffer from it.,0,0.45138693,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 . . For if you went there, you wouldn’t be able to bear it, and you’d rebel, and perhaps you’d really say to yourself, ‘We are even now!’ “But I understand, they assured me—the commandant even told Ivan—that if it’s done cleverly, there won’t be much trouble for anyone, and they could get off with practically nothing. Not every man can bear the same burden; for some, it may prove to be beyond their strength . You want to regenerate yourself and become a new man through suffering. But I think it will be enough for you if you remember all your life that new man you want to be, wherever you are after you have escaped from here. The defense counsel was right about that. If others had to be made responsible for your escape—officers or soldiers of the escort, or whoever—I would not have ‘allowed’ you to go through with it,” Alyosha said with a smile. And indeed, by escaping the great ordeal, you will become even more acutely aware of your debt, for the rest of your life, and that will help your regeneration perhaps even more than if you went there. Well, that is what I think, if it really interests you.","said the guard, “you just can’t accept your situation; you seem bent on annoying us unnecessarily, although we’re probably the human beings closest to you now.” “That’s right, you’d better believe it,” said Franz, not lifting the coffee cup in his hand to his mouth but staring at K. with a long and no doubt meaningful, but incomprehensible, look. K. allowed himself to become involved in an involuntary staring match with Franz, but at last thumped his papers and said: “Here are my identification papers.” “So what?” the taller guard cried out, “you’re behaving worse than a child. What is it you want?",0,0.45132655,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 80 The progress had been without incident as far as Xinfeng. Near Baling Bridge the west wind of autumn came on to blow with great violence, but soon above the howling of the gale was heard the trampling of a large body of force. They stopped at a bridge and barred the way. “Who comes?” cried a voice. “The Imperial Chariot is passing, and who dares stop it?” said Yang Qi, riding forward. Two leaders of the barring party advanced to Yang Qi, saying, “General Guo Si has ordered us to guard the bridge and stop all spies. You say the Emperor is here; we must see him, and then we will let you pass.” So the pearl curtain was raised and the Emperor said, “I, the Emperor, am here. Why do you not retire to let me pass, Gentlemen?” They all shouted, “Long Life! Long Life!” and fell away to allow the cortege through. But when they reported what they had done, Guo Si was very angry, saying, “I meant to outwit Zhang Ji, seize the Emperor, and hold him in Meiwo. Why have you let him get away?” He put the two officers to death, set out to pursue the cavalcade, and overtook it just at the county of Huaying. The noise of a great shouting arose behind the travelers, and a loud voice commanded, “Stop the train!” The Emperor burst into tears. “Out of the wolf's den into the tiger's mouth!” said he. No one knew what to do; they were all too frightened. But when the rebel army was just upon them, they heard the beating of drums and from behind some hills came into the open a cohort of one thousand soldiers preceded by a great flag bearing the name “Han General Yang Feng”. Having defeated by Li Jue, Yang Feng fled to the foothills of the Xian; and he came up to offer his services as soon as he heard the Emperor's journey. Seeing it was necessary to fight now, he drew up his line of battle. Guo Si's general, Cui Yong, rode out and began a volley of abuse. Yang Feng turned and said, “Where is Xu Huang?” In response out came a valiant warrior gripping a heavy battle-ax. Yang Feng kowtows and thanks the emperor for his gracious words. We owe you our lives.’ ","So, look. At half past eight shit and half an hour later sleep. That is perfectly sufficient. During this transition time the rank-and-file has runny stool anyhow. Above all I stress sleep. That is a boost for further marches. As long as the men are on the train, they have to have a rest.",0,0.4511754,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 40 I’m here to fulfill my sole desire in life: to feed mendicant Buddhists.” she simpered at him. “This pot contains fragrant rice and the vase fried gluten. The gods obeyed the order. Sanzang was relieved, sat on the stone cliff, and instructed the walker to be careful, and the walker said: ""Just relax. "" Good Monkey King, put a bunch of cotton cloth straight, lift up the tiger-skin skirt, hold the gold hoop iron rod, and be full of energy, and approach the ravine, half cloud and half fog, on the water, shouting: ""Splash Loach, give me back! Come back to me! ""","I am in the five directions, but the golden-headed Jieti is not separated from left and right day and night. The walker said: ""In this case, those who are not on duty should retreat, leaving the six Dingshen generals and the day-to-day meritorious Cao and Zhongjiedi to guard my master. Wait for the old Sun to find the evil dragon in the stream and teach him to return my horse.",1,0.6577583,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 - Hey ! sire!",(He was in her debt.),0,0.45108464,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 Fauchelevent had dislocated his kneepan in his fall. Father Madeleine had him conveyed to an infirmary which he had established for his workmen in the factory building itself, and which was served by two sisters of charity. On the following morning the old man found a thousand-franc bank-note on his night-stand, with these words in Father Madeleine’s writing: “ I purchase your horse and cart.” The cart was broken, and the horse was dead. Fauchelevent recovered, but his knee remained stiff. M. Madeleine, on the recommendation of the sisters and his parish priest, had the good man placed as a gardener in a women's convent in the Saint-Antoine district of Paris. ","Alas, my sacrifice was in vain, since there was too much glare",0,0.4510365,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 Returning from his trip, Prince Andrei decided to go to Petersburg in the fall and came up with various reasons for this decision. A whole series of reasonable, logical arguments why he needed to go to Petersburg and even serve, was every minute ready for his services. Even now he did not understand how he could ever doubt the need to take an active part in life, just as a month ago he did not understand how the idea of leaving the village could come to him. It seemed clear to him that all his experiences in life must have been lost in vain and be nonsense if he had not put them to work and had not again taken an active part in life. After that journey to Ryazan he found the country dull; his former pursuits no longer interested him, and often when sitting alone in his study he got up, went to the mirror and gazed a long time at his own face. Now reason suggested quite the opposite. He did not even remember how formerly, on the strength of similar wretched logical arguments, it had seemed obvious that he would be degrading himself if he now, after the lessons he had had in life, allowed himself to believe in the possibility of being useful and in the possibility of happiness or love. Then he turned away and looked at the portrait of the deceased Lisa, who, with curls a la grecque [in Greek] fluffed up, tenderly and cheerfully looked at him from a golden frame. She no longer spoke the former terrible words to her husband, she simply and cheerfully looked at him with curiosity. And Prince Andrei, with his hands folded back, paced the room for a long time, now frowning, now smiling, rethinking those unreasonable, inexpressible in words, secret as a crime thoughts connected with Pierre, with fame, with the girl at the window, with the oak, with female beauty and love that changed his whole life. And at those moments, when someone came to him, he was especially dry, sternly resolute, and especially unpleasantly logical.","He did not even understand how, on the basis of the same poor rational arguments, it had previously been obvious that he would have humiliated himself if now, after his lessons in life, he would again believe in the possibility of being useful and in the possibility of happiness and love. Now my mind was telling me something else. After this trip, Prince Andrei began to get bored in the countryside, his previous activities did not interest him, and often, sitting alone in his office, he got up, went to the mirror and looked at his face for a long time.",1,0.6579781,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 I was only seventeen when I first went into the service – soon I will have spent more than thirty years in this walk of life. Well, indeed, I have worn out enough dress uniforms in my time; I have grown to man’s estate, acquired some shrewdness, and seen something of people; I have lived, and I can say that I have lived in the world, to the extent that once I was even nominated to receive a medal. Perhaps you will not believe me, but I assure you that this is so. And what became of it, little mother?",You’ll see. Soon we will talk.,0,0.4508429,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 He leaned his face to the wall in the corner, exactly as the evening before when Erkel came. He was trembling like a leaf, afraid to think, yet his thought clung to everything that presented itself to his mind, as happens in dreams. A damp, cold morning came. Marie also laughed, spitefully, caustically, as if it made her feel better. Finally, they chased Shatov out altogether. Dawn broke. Reveries incessantly carried him away, and incessantly snapped off like rotten threads. Arina Prokhorovna suddenly came up with the idea that Shatov had just run out to the stairs to pray to God, and she began to laugh. Arina Prokhorovna used severity, not kindness, but her work was masterful.","- “Yes, of the very disease that torments me so much: the strange name of that disease is still unknown to me, but I know the signs perfectly: unconsciousness of longing, hallucinations, fears, vodka, smoking; from vodka - frequent and dull pain in the head; finally, a special spinal feeling: it torments me in the morning. Do you think I'm the only one sick? No matter how: you, Nikolai Apollonovich, - and you - are sick too. Almost everyone is sick. Ah, leave, please; I know, I know everything in advance, what you will say, and yet: ha-ha-ha! - almost all the ideological employees of the party - and they are sick with the same disease; her features in me were only more prominently emphasized. You know: back in the old days, when I met with a party comrade",0,0.4507277,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 I understand that you do not think you have sinned so much - but you dare [193] not confess this to your parish priest. And is it not a sorrow and a shame for his kinsmen too, if they learn he has lured the daughter of a man who has carried his shield with honors in79 all the years - you were betrothed and. And do you think that you are as good as married to this man, why did you not put linskautetk851 on you, but go with open hair between the young maidens with whom you do not have much fellowship and more - because you probably have your thoughts mostly know other things than they have now? ”","sir, sit down to table; not only will we pay for you, but we will never allow a man like you to lack money; men are only made to help one another.",0,0.45057088,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 60 You have sent me some linen as a gift. But listen to me, Makar Alexievitch. You are simply ruining yourself. Is it a jest that you should spend so much money, such a terrible amount of money, upon me? How you love to play the spendthrift! I tell you that I do not need it, that such expenditure is unnecessary. I know, I am CERTAIN, that you love me —therefore, it is useless to remind me of the fact with gifts. Nor do I like receiving them, since I know how much they must have cost you. No—put your money to a better use. I beg, I beseech of you, to do so. Also, you ask me to send you a continuation of my memoirs—to conclude them. But I know not how I contrived even to write as much of them as I did; and now I have not the strength to write further of my past, nor the desire to give it a single thought. Such recollections are terrible to me. Most difficult of all is it for me to speak of my poor mother, who left her destitute daughter a prey to villains. My heart runs blood whenever I think of it; it is so fresh in my memory that I cannot dismiss it from my thoughts, nor rest for its insistence, although a year has now elapsed since the events took place. But all this you know.","But why am I writing all this to you? It is hard to make all that clear to one’s own heart and still harder to convey it to another. But you, perhaps, will understand me. Sadness and laughter both at once! How kind you are really, Makar Alexyevitch! You looked into my eyes yesterday as though to read in them what I was feeling and were delighted with my rapture. Whether it was a bush, an avenue, a piece of water—you were there standing before me showing its beauties and peeping into my eyes as though you were displaying your possessions to me. That proves that you have a kind heart, Makar Alexyevitch. It’s for that that I love you. Well, goodbye.",0,0.45023853,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 When New Year’s Day came round, my first occupation was to accompany Mama on visits to family. So as not to tire me, she had my father map out an itinerary for us; and she arranged our calls according to which part of town our relatives lived in, rather than in any order of family precedence. But we had hardly set foot in the drawing-room of a rather distant cousin – the lack of distance to her house being the reason why she was first on the list – when my mother was horrified to see, among the bringers of seasonal offerings of marrons","See, right here. No, no, we’re busy with our work.’",0,0.45011768,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 The bad thing was that the following became known: one evening the schoolboy Christian Buddenbrook was allowed to visit the municipal theater with a good friend, where Schiller's Wilhelm Tell was being performed; but the role of Tell's boy Walter was played by a young lady, a Demoiselle Meyer-de la Grange, with whom something special happened. Whether it was appropriate for her role or not, she used to wear a diamond brooch on stage, which was notoriously genuine because, as is well known, it was a gift from the young Consul Peter Döhlmann, son of the late wood wholesaler Döhlmann in Erste Wallstrasse in front of the Holstentor. Consul Peter was one of those gentlemen who were called ""suitiers"" in town - like Justus Kröger, for example - which means that his lifestyle was a little lax. He was married and even had a young daughter, but had been at odds with his wife for a long time and lived quite like a bachelor. The fortune his father had left him, whose business he was carrying on, so to speak, had been quite substantial; but one said to oneself that he still lived off the capital. He lived mostly at the Club or the Rathskeller, was often to be met somewhere in the street at four o'clock in the morning; and made frequent business trips to Hamburg. Above all, however, he was an avid theater lover, never missed a performance and took a personal interest in the performing staff. Demoiselle Meyer-de la Grange was the last of the young artists he had decorated with diamonds in recent years...","He usually stayed in the ""Klub"" or in the Ratskeller to have breakfast, was seen somewhere in the streets at 4 o'clock every morning, and often went on business trips to Hamburg.",1,0.65885663,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 It was all very painful for Joachim; but the person who was the source of their amusement seemed insensitive to this revelation of his inner state. Perhaps he thought that if he had left it hidden and ignored, it would never have come into its own. He could be sure of meeting with general sympathy and was willing to accept the schadenfreude that might come with it. It came to this: that people actually stood about in groups to observe the infatuated youth—after dinner, on the terrace, or on a Sunday afternoon before the porter’s lodge, when the letters were distributed, for on that day they were not carried to the patients’ rooms. People, not only at his own table, but at neighbouring ones as well, enjoyed seeing him flush and pale when the glass door slammed. And even this gratified him; it was like an outward confirmation and assertion of his inner frenzy, which seemed to him calculated to forward his affair, and encourage his vague and senseless hopes. And so it too made him happy. It was generally known that he was tipsy as hell, a man in a highly lambent state, who did not care who noticed. And so Frau Stöhr,Fräulein Engelhart, young Kleefeld, her girlfriend with the face of a tapir, the incurable Herr Albin, the young man with the saltcellar fingernail, and various other sanatorium residents would stand there with mouths pulled down at the corners and snort through their noses as they watched him gaze in one particular direction—a forlorn and passionate smile on his lips, the same flush on his cheeks that had appeared his first evening here, the same glint in his eyes that had been enkindled by the Austrian horseman’s cough.","Why, why all these meaningless ordeals? What’s their purpose? Will I be better if I acknowledge then, crushed by suffering and idiocy, in old-age impotence after twenty years of exile, what I acknowledge now, and why should I continue to live?",0,0.4496553,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 80 Chichikov was completely out of sorts and flung down on the floor the sword that traveled with him for inspiring due fear in those who needed it. He fussed with the blacksmiths for a good quarter of an hour before he could come to terms with them, because the blacksmiths, as is their wont, were inveterate scoundrels, and, having grasped that the job was an urgent one, stuck him with six times the price. He got all fired up, called them crooks, thieves, highway robbers, even hinted at the Last Judgment, but nothing fazed them: the blacksmiths stayed absolutely in character—not only did not yield on the price, but even fussed over the work for a whole five and a half hours instead of two. During that time he had the pleasure of experiencing those agreeable moments, familiar to every traveler, when the trunk is all packed and only strings, scraps of paper, and various litter are strewn about the room, when a man belongs neither to the road nor to sitting in place, and from the window sees people plodding by, discussing nickels and dimes, lifting their eyes with some stupid curiosity to glance at him and then continuing on their way, which further aggravates the low spirits of the poor non-departing traveler. Everything there, everything he sees—the little shop across from his windows, the head of the old woman who lives in the house opposite, and who keeps coming up to the window with its half-curtains—everything is loathsome to him, and yet he will not leave the window. He stands, now oblivious, now dimly attentive again to everything moving and not moving in front of him, and in vexation stifles under his finger some fly which at the moment is buzzing and beating against the glass. But there is an end to all things, and the longed-for moment came: everything was ready, the front end of the britzka was set to rights, the wheel was fitted with a new tire, the horses were brought from the watering place, and the robber-blacksmiths went off counting the roubles they had made and wishing him all their blessings. Finally the britzka, too, was harnessed, and two hot kalatchi, only just bought, were put in, and Selifan stuck something for himself into the pouch in the coachman’s box, and finally the hero himself, to the waving cap of the floorboy, who stood there in the same half-cotton frock coat, in the presence of the tavern servants and other lackeys and coachmen, who gathered to gape at someone else’s master departing, and with all the other circumstances that accompany a departure, got into the carriage—and the britzka such as bachelors drive around in, which had stood so long in town and which the reader is so sick of, finally drove out the gates of the inn. “Thank God for that!” thought Chichikov, crossing himself. Selifan cracked his whip; Petrushka, having first hung from the footboard for a while, sat down next to him, and our hero, settling himself better on the Georgian rug, put a leather cushion behind his back and squashed the two kalatchi, as the carriage again started its jigging and jolting, owing to the pavement, which, as we know, possessed a bouncing force. With a sort of indefinite feeling he gazed at the houses, walls, fences, and streets, which, also as if hopping for their own part, were slowly moving backwards, and which God knows if he was destined to see again in the course of his life. At a turn down one of the streets the britzka had to stop, because an endless funeral procession was passing the whole length of it. Chichikov, having peeked out, told Petrushka to ask who was being buried, and learned that it was the prosecutor. Filled with unpleasant sensations, he at once hid himself in a corner, covered himself with the leather apron, and closed the curtains. All the while the carriage was stopped in this way, Selifan and Petrushka, piously doffing their hats, were looking at who drove how, in what, and on what, counting the number of all those on foot and on wheels, while the master, ordering them not to acknowledge or greet any servants they knew, also began timidly looking through the glass in the leather curtains: behind the coffin, hats off, walked all the officials. He began to be a bit afraid that they might recognize his carriage, but they could not be bothered with that. They were not even occupied with the various mundane conversations that are usually conducted among those accompanying the deceased. All their thoughts at that time were concentrated on their own selves: they thought about what sort of man the new governor-general would be, how he would get down to business, and how he would receive them. After the officials, who went on foot, came carriages out of which peeked ladies in mourning caps. By the movement of their lips and hands one could see that they were engaged in lively conversation; perhaps they, too, were talking about the arrival of the new governor-general, making speculations concerning the balls he would give, and worrying about their eternal festoons and appliqués. Finally, several empty droshkys followed the carriages, stretched out in single file, and finally there was nothing left, and our hero could go. And now they will publish in the newspapers that he died, to the regret of his subordinates and all mankind, a respectable citizen, a rare father, an exemplary husband, and they will write a lot of all sorts of things; add, perhaps, that he was accompanied by the weeping of widows and orphans; but if you take a good look at the matter, then in fact you only had thick eyebrows. Opening the leather curtains, he sighed, saying from the bottom of his heart: “Here, prosecutor! lived, lived, and then died! Here he told Selifan to drive faster, and meanwhile thought to himself: “It’s a good thing, however, that I met the funeral; they say it’s a lucky sign when you meet a dead man.”","Finally, after the carriages, came several empty droshkies, strung out in single file, and finally there was nothing more left, and our hero could go. Opening the leather curtains, he sighed, saying from the bottom of his heart: “So, the prosecutor! He lived and lived, and then he died! And so they’ll print in the newspapers that there passed away, to the sorrow of his subordinates and of all mankind, a respectable citizen, a rare father, an exemplary husband, and they’ll write all sorts of stuff; they’ll add, maybe, that he was accompanied by the weeping of widows and orphans; but if one looks into the matter properly, all you had, in fact, was bushy eyebrows.”",1,0.6592955,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 So Sima Yi invited the camp to Luoyang. After the three Cao Shuang brothers returned home, Yi locked the door with a large lock and ordered 800 residents to guard his house. Cao Shuang was worried. Xi said to Shuang: ""The family is short of food now, so brother can make a book and borrow food from the master. If you are willing to lend me food, you will not have any intention of harming each other."" Shuang wrote a book and asked him to go. Sima Yi read the book, so he sent people to deliver a hundred husks of grain to Cao Shuang's house. Shuang was overjoyed and said, ""Sima Gong has no intention of harming me!"" So he was not worried. It turns out that Sima Yi first captured Huangmen Zhang Dang and put him in prison for questioning. When he said, ""It's not me, there are five other people, including He Yan, Deng Yang, Li Sheng, Bi Gui, and Ding Mi, who conspired to usurp."" Huan Fan and those with him were thrown into prison. Presently Cao Shuang and his brothers, all persons connected with them, and their clans were put to death in the market place. All the treasures of their houses was sent to the public treasury. Then said Sima Yi, “When a person maligns another and is false, the punishment for such a crime as he imputes falls upon his own head.” Sima Yi had them locked in one long wooden collar. The Commander of the Gates, Si Fan, testified that Huan Fan had imposed upon him with a pretended command from Her Majesty and so had escaped out of the city. Beside Huan Fan had said the Imperial Guardian was a rebel. So they were arrested and, when interrogated, confessed that a revolt had been arranged for the third month. At that time, there was Cao Shuang's younger brother, Uncle Wen's wife, who was also the daughter of Xiahou: she was widowed and childless. When Shuang was executed, his father would marry him again, and his daughter had her nose cut off. His family was alarmed and said, ""The world of life is like a light dust and weak grass, why do you suffer like this? Besides, the husband's family has been killed by the Sima Clan, and who should keep this desire?"" The woman cried and said, ""I Hearing: 'Benevolent people do not change their minds with prosperity and decline, and righteous people do not change their minds with survival or death.' When the Cao clan was prosperous, he still wanted to preserve his end; ""Yi heard it and was wise, and he asked the beggar to support himself, and he became the queen of the Cao clan. A later poem says:","He came dashing forward, and summoned the small party, saying, “Guan Yu, do not run! Surrender and live!”",0,0.44956633,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 On the country road he had found an ugly old buckle, which he had taken home and given to the children. He himself had said that he had been in the market, but left before he had heard of the theft. It was his fault for the accident. However, this buckle was made of gold and belonged to the stolen items. But everything had really been Sintram's fault.","I happened to be passing just then with my mother. We rushed to help him to his feet. He was black and blue and there was blood all over his face. It gave us an awful fright. But all at once he smiled at us and started shouting: “Thank you, God! for letting me off so lightly!” Then we asked him what was the matter and he told us all about being frightened. Do you know why?",0,0.44926992,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 And in his head, extremely optimistic elephants come and go. By the time she decides no matter what, she feels sorry for her, and when she decides already, she doesn't look like a man, like a horse disguised as œillères. , It is something that makes a leap forward just looking away. Even if a thoughtful man has a disability that makes him feel suspicious, the woman does not waste it. Then, somehow, he dares to do something that the man can't do, and sometimes he succeeds outside of his mind. Odama tried to approach Okada, but when he was observed by a third party, he was so crawling that he couldn't stand the frustration. After I came, I felt like running toward the shore I wanted to, like a boat with a pursuit on a sail. So he urged the plums and sent them back to his parents. Suezou who gets in the way goes to Chiba and stays there. Ume, the maid, also returns to her parents' house and stays there. From now on until tomorrow morning, it is fun and irresistible for a ladle to feel that it is a body that no one can squeeze. And it seems that things must be a precursor to the easy achievement of the ultimate goal. Only today, Mr. Okada will never pass in front of the inside. There are days when I go back and forth twice, so even if I don't meet once for some reason, I won't miss it twice. Today I will not put anything without saying anything at all costs. If you take the plunge and say something, that person's foot can't be stopped. I have fallen into a lowly concubinage. Moreover, it is a concubinage of usury. But even though it's more beautiful than when I was a raw daughter, it's not ugly. What's more, what's wrong with a man is gradually becoming known to the luck of a monster who encounters an unreasonable eye. And if this were the case, Okada could not look on her with absolute disfavor. no. That is certainly not the case. If you think you're a disgusting woman, you can't thank me every time you look at her face. It seems that he killed the snake one day. No matter where it happened, I'm sure it wasn't the case. If it wasn't inside me, I might have passed by with an unknown face. And since I'm thinking so much over here, I'm sure this heart shouldn't go a little further, if not everyone. what. It may be easier to produce than you think. While I was thinking about this, the ladle didn't even want to fill the tub's hot water when it had cooled completely.","If you look at it, you can't think that Mr. Okada is a nasty woman.",1,0.659734,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 You know, you have defiled my soul, the two of you! And do you think that I would have behaved this way throughout the night, and right now, at this moment, as I face you, that I would have looked at you as I am doing, at you and at the whole world, if I were really a parricide? How can you people imagine for a second that, if I had really killed my father, I would have denied it and told all these lies just to get away with it? . . I can feel it now inside, for I have learned more about life during this horrible night than in the last twenty years. No, that is not the kind of man Dmitry Karamazov is! If I had killed him, I swear I would not have waited for you to come here, nor would I have waited for sunrise as I was doing—I would have destroyed myself at once, then and there!","Your explanation has not satisfied me at all. Isn’t it clear that I was right in trying to insist on taking the situation that was offered me? Besides, my last adventure has thoroughly frightened me. You say that it’s your love for me that makes you keep in hiding from me. I saw that I was deeply indebted to you while you persuaded me that you were only spending your savings on me, which you said you had lying by in the bank in case of need.",0,0.44912085,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 ""Yes, it's quite true, isn't it?"" cried the general, his eyes sparkling with gratification. "" A small boy, a child, would naturally realize no danger; he would shove his way through the crowds to see the shine and glitter of the uniforms, and especially the great man of whom everyone was speaking, for at that time all the world had been talking of no one but this man for some years past. The world was full of his name; I—so to speak—drew it in with my mother's milk. Napoleon, passing a couple of paces from me, caught sight of me accidentally. I had a noble bearing, my parents dressed me well. I stood out in that crowd, you must agree—” “Surely! ",I am not petty. I am a generous man.,0,0.4488188,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 But Aglaya will never be his wife, that much I can tell you! Now I must agree with the rest, it’s pretty obvious the hussy has for some unknown reason made him look a complete fool (very suspicious that, and highly irregular!). This mood persisted all day the day before yesterday and through to the morning of the next.","There was the fact alone that Nastasya Filippovna was visiting for the first time; until then she had behaved so haughtily that, in her conversations with Ganya, she had not even expressed any wish to meet his relations, and lately had not even mentioned them at all, as if they did not exist. Though he was partly glad that such a bothersome conversation had been put off, in his heart Ganya had laid this haughtiness to her account. In any case, he had expected sneers and barbs at his family from her sooner than a visit; he knew for certain that she was informed of all that went on in his home to do with his marital plans and what views his relations had of her. Her visit now, after giving him her portrait and on her birthday, the day when she had promised to decide his fate, almost signified the decision itself.",0,0.44872066,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 He must have stuck a glass eye in his back to surprise people.”","There was not another praline for him to crunch, not even a gumdrop.",1,0.66017234,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 While I've been telling you this story, which you'll assume I've made up... What about the man in the livery who was scraping away on the bass viol? Reader, you shall have it, I promise. You have my word on it. You won't be sold short. But please let me get back now to Jacques and his Master. Jacques and his master had arrived at the place where they were to spend the night. There I heard an uproar… – You heard? You weren’t there… It’s got nothing to do with you at all. It was late. The gates of the town were closed and they were obliged to stop in the suburb. You're right. So Jacques... his Master... er... a terrible hullabaloo is heard. I see two men... You don't see anything of the kind. This has nothing to do with you. You weren't there. True enough. There were two men chatting quietly at a table outside the door of their room. A woman, hands on hips, was heaping a torrent of abuse on their heads, and Jacques was trying to calm her down while she paid no more attention to his peaceful remonstrations than the two men she was shouting at paid to her fulminations. ' Come, come, my good woman,' said Jacques, 'a little patience, calm down. Now what's all this about? These two persons look like gentlemen...'","Jacques and his Master had reached the place where they were to spend the night. It was late, the gates were all shut, and they'd been forced to stop at an inn outside the town's walls. There I can hear a great hullabaloo... You can hear} But you weren't there. How could you have heard anything?",1,0.66017234,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 Hans Castorp bowed her out, then stood by the table, staring from the door through which she had disappeared to the instrument she had left behind. “So that,” he thought, “was Directress von Mylendonk. Settembrini doesn’t care for her, and certainly she has her unpleasant side. The stye isn’t pretty—but of course she does not have it all the time. But why does she call me ‘young ’un,’ like that? Rather rude and familiar, seems to me. So she has sold me a thermometer —I suppose she always has one or two in her pocket. They are to be had everywhere here, Joachim said, even in shops where you would least expect it. But I didn’t need to take the trouble to buy it; it just fell into my lap.” He took the article out of its case, looked at it, and walked restlessly up and down the room. His heart beat strong and rapidly. He looked toward the open balcony door, and considered seeking counsel of Joachim, but thought better of it and paused again by the table. He now cleared his throat to see just how hollow his voice sounded. He then coughed. “Yes,” he said. “I must see if I have the fever that goes with the cold.” Quickly he put the thermometer in his mouth, the mercury beneath the tongue, so that the instrument stuck slantingly upwards from his lips. He closed them firmly, that no air might get in. Then he looked at his wrist-watch. It was six minutes after the half-hour. And he began to wait for the seven minutes to pass.","It should be noted that these Masonic chats, which took place separately between the pupil and each of the two mentors, had occurred before Joachim's return to those above.",0,0.44861498,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 20 “In that case,” replied the minister, “the four thunder dukes and the Dame of Lightning are yours for the day.” “Is that authorized?” But the Four Heavenly Preceptors also told me that the prefect could expiate his offense through religious devotion. The inhabitants of the city have been ostentatiously holy for the past three days, and a courier has just delivered their documents of repentance to the Jade Emperor.” “I know. the celestial being queried. “I understand that three conditions have to be met first.” Splendid Monkey. He pulled a hair out from the back of his head, breathed a magic breath on it, said “Change,” and turned it into an imitation Monkey who stayed with the Tang Priest, Pig and Friar Sand to endure the cursing and swearing of the Taoist boys, while the real Monkey used his divine powers to leap out of the hall by cloud. He went straight to the garden and struck the manfruit tree with his gold-banded cudgel. Then he used his supernatural strength that could move mountains to push the tree over with a single shove. The leaves fell, the branches splayed out, and the roots came out of the ground. The Taoists would have no more of their “Grass-returning Cinnabar.” After pushing the tree over Monkey searched through the branches for manfruit, but he could not find a single one. These treasures dropped at the touch of metal, and as Monkey's cudgel was ringed with gold, while being made of iron, another of the five metals, one tap from it brought them all tumbling down, and when they hit the ground they went straight in, leaving none on the tree. “Great, great, great,” he said, “that'll make them all cool down.” He put the iron cudgel away, went back to the front of the temple, shook the magic hair, and put it back on his head. The others did not see what was happening as they had eyes of mortal flesh.","“Amitabha Buddha,” exclaimed Pig, “if he pinched four of them why did he only share out three? He must have done the dirty on us.” He continued to shout wildly in this vein. Now that they knew that the fruit really had been stolen, the two boys started to abuse them even more foully. The Great Sage ground his teeth of steel in his fury, glaring with his fiery eyes and tightening his grip on his iron cudgel. “Damn those Taoist boys,” he thought when he could restrain himself no longer. “If they'd hit us we could have taken it, but now they're insulting us to our faces like this, I'll finish their tree off, then none of them can have any more fruit.”",1,0.66061044,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 “Twelve years older!” he exclaims, delighted that she’s paying attention, that she isn’t losing her head completely. “So, you’re twelve years older, that’s splendid , it’s simply grand! You don’t think, do you, that twelve years is an obstacle? Why, you must be mad! But however that may be—even if you were three times twelve years older, what difference would it make, as long as I’m in love with you and mean every word that passes my lips at this moment? I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, well, not that long, but for several days anyway, that’s the truth; for heaven’s sake, believe me, I implore you. I’ve been thinking about it for a number of days and spent sleepless nights because of it. You have such strange eyes, I was drawn by them from the moment I saw you; I could be drawn to the world ’s end by a pair of eyes. Once an old man, alas, dragged me around a forest for half a night by his eyes alone. The man was possessed—. Well, that’s another story. But your eyes have affected me. Do you remember the day you were standing here in the middle of the room watching me as I passed by? You didn’t turn your head, you only followed me with your eyes, I’ll never forget it. But once I met you and had a chance to talk to you, I was also moved by your smile. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody laugh with such heartfelt warmth as you; but that’s something you don’t know about, which is just the wonder and the beauty of it, that you don’t know about it.... Oh, what frightful drivel I’m talking. I can hear it well enough, but I have the feeling that I must talk continuously, otherwise you won’t believe me, and that makes me confused.4 But if you just did not run like that, I mean: so ready to get up and go, I should immediately get better. I beg you, let me hold your hand again and I'll probably speak more clearly. There, thank you! ... You see, all I really want from you is what I’ve just told you, nothing more; I have no ulterior motives. So what have I said that you find so disconcerting? You can’t fathom how I came up with this crazy idea, you can’t understand that I—that I—really want to, right?",Hubbard Squash was not there.,0,0.44815454,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 What was Dr. talking about? Krokowski? In what line of thought was he moving? Hans Castorp used his wits to get the message running, which he didn't manage to do right away, since he hadn't heard the beginning and had missed more when thinking about Frau Chauchat's sagging back. It was a power... that power...in short, it was the power of love that was the issue. Of course! The topic lay in the general title of the lecture cycle, {193}and what should Dr. Krokowski then probably speak otherwise, since this was after all his area. It was a bit odd, all of a sudden, to hear a lecture on love, when otherwise there had only been talk of things like transmission gears in shipbuilding. How did one go about discussing a subject of such a brittle and secret nature in the broad daylight in front of ladies and gentlemen? dr Krokowski discussed it in a mixed mode of expression, in a style at once poetic and scholarly, ruthlessly scientific but at the same time singingly swinging in tone, which struck young Hans Castorp as somewhat untidy, although this might be the reason why the ladies had such hot cheeks and the Gentlemen shook their ears. In particular, the speaker used the word ""love"" constantly in a slightly vacillating sense, so that one never quite knew where one stood with it, and whether it meant pious or passionately carnal—which produced a slight feeling of seasickness. Never in his life had Hans Castorp heard this word uttered so often in succession as here and now, yes, when he thought about it, it seemed to him that he himself had never uttered it or heard it from someone else's mouth. That might have been a mistake - at any rate he did not think that so frequent repetition would do the word any good. On the contrary, these slippery one and a half syllables with the tongue, the lip sound and the thin vowel in the middle became very repulsive to him in the long run, an image associated with it as of watered milk - something bluish-white, limp, especially in comparison with all the strength that Dr. Krokowski actually spoke about it. For so much became clear that one could say strong pieces without driving people out of the hall, if one started like he did. He was by no means content to broach, with a kind of intoxicating tact, things which were well known but which were shrouded in silence; he shattered illusions, he relentlessly honored knowledge, he left no room for sensitive belief in the dignity of the silver hair and the angelic purity of the tender child. Incidentally, he also wore his soft fall collar with his frock coat and his sandals over his gray socks, which made a fundamental and idealistic impression, even if Hans Castorp was a bit startled by it. By using books and loose sheets lying on the table in front of him, supporting his statements with all sorts of examples and anecdotes and even reciting verses several times, Dr. Krokowski of frightening forms of love, wondrous, painful and uncanny variations of its appearance and omnipotence. Of all natural instincts, he said, it is the most vacillating and endangered, fundamentally inclined to go astray and hopelessly wrong, and that shouldn't come as a surprise. For this mighty impulse is nothing simple, it is by its very nature multifaceted, and no matter how legitimate it may be as a whole, it is composed of sheer perversities. But since one now, and rightly so, Dr. Krokowski continues, but since one correctly refuses to infer the wrongness of the whole from the wrongness of the components, one is inevitably forced to claim a part of the legality of the whole, if not its entire legality, also for the individual wrongness gain weight. That is a requirement of logic, and he asks his listeners to stick to it. Mental resistance and correctives are there, decent and regulative instincts of - he might almost have said bourgeois kind, under whose balancing and restricting effect the wrong components merge into a regular and useful whole - a nevertheless frequent and welcome process, whose However, the result (as Dr. Krokowski added somewhat dismissively) was none of the doctor and thinker's concern. In another case, on the other hand, it didn't succeed, this process didn't want to and shouldn't succeed, and who, asked Dr. Krokowski, are you able to say whether this does not perhaps mean the nobler, spiritually more precious case? In this case, both groups of forces, the urge to love as well as those opposing impulses, among which shame and disgust are to be mentioned in particular, have an extraordinary tension and passion that exceeds the usual bourgeois level, and, guided in the depths of the soul, prevent the Struggle between them that containment, security and morality of the erring instincts, which lead to the usual harmony, to the love life according to the rules. This conflict between the powers of chastity and love - for that is what it is about - how will it end? It seems to end with the victory of chastity. Fear, prosperity, chaste abhorrence, a trembling need for purity, they suppressed love, kept it chained in obscurity, allowed its confused demands at best only partially, but by far not in their full variety and force into consciousness and into activity. But this victory of chastity is only an apparent and Pyrrhic victory, because the love command cannot be gagged, it cannot be violated, suppressed love is not dead, it is alive, it continues to strive in the dark and deep secret to fulfill itself, it breaks the spell of chastity and reappear, albeit in a transformed, unrecognizable form... And what then, then, is the form and mask in which the unapproved and suppressed love reappears? So asked Dr. Krokowski and looked down the rows as if earnestly awaiting the answer from his listeners. At least this was Hans Castorp’s impression, as he sat there expectantly waiting, along with all the others, to learn in what form unsanctioned love would reappear. But no, he would have to provide the answer himself, though he had already provided so many. The women were barely breathing. No one else knew the answer, but he would be sure to know this, too —you could see it just by looking at him. With his glowing eyes, his waxen pallor, his black beard, and those monastic sandals over gray woolen socks, he seemed to symbolize in his person the battle between chastity and passion about which he had been speaking. Prosecutor Paravant quickly shook his ear again so that it would be open and receptive at the crucial moment. Then said Dr. Krokowski: In the form of the disease! The symptom of illness is disguised love activity and all illness transformed love.","he asked, turning his back to the verandah and continuing to smoke, amazed at her childishness.",0,0.4480791,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 I later discovered most of the details of this poor old man’s story. He had once had a government position somewhere, had no abilities whatsoever and had occupied the lowliest and most insignificant post in the service. On the death of his first wife (the mother of our ‘student’ Pokrovsky), he had taken it into his head to marry a second time, and married a tradesman’s daughter. His new wife turned the household upside down; she would leave no one alone, took everyone in hand. At that time our ‘student’ Pokrovsky was only a child of about ten years old. His stepmother hated him. But fate smiled on little Pokrovsky. The landowner Bykov, who knew the government clerk Pokrovsky and had once been his benefactor, took the child into his care and found him a place in some school or other. He took an interest in the boy because he had known his dead mother, who as a girl had received the good favours of Anna Fyodorovna and had been married by her to the government clerk Pokrovsky. Moved by generosity, Mr Bykov, a friend and intimate acquaintance of Anna Fyodorovna’s, had given the sum of five thousand rubles as a dowry for the bride. Where that money had gone, no one knew. That was the story as Anna Fyodorovna told it to me; the istudent’ Pokrovsky never liked talking about his family circumstances. They say that his mother was very good-looking, and I find it strange that she should have made such a poor marriage to such an insignificant man… She died when she was still quite young, about four years after the marriage.","Étienne had sat down, curious to make him talk. He was no longer angry, he was seized by an interest in this childish scoundrel, so brave and so industrious in his vices. And, indeed, he tasted a well-being, at the bottom of this hole: the heat was no longer too strong there, an equal temperature reigned there out of season, with the warmth of a bath, while the harsh December chapped on the earth the skin of the wretched. As they grew older, the galleries were purified of harmful gases, all the firedamp was gone, you could only smell there now the smell of old fermented wood, a subtle smell of ether, as if sharpened by a hint of clove.",0,0.4474603,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 20 it’s because I’m in such a happy frame of mind today. We all ate dinner together in Ratazyayev is room and they started passing round a Romany wine* such as you’ve never tasted in your life (they’re such frolicsome fellows, little mother!) … But why should I write to you about that? Now don’t go getting the wrong idea about me, Varenka. I just tell you all these things for fun. I shall send you the books, I promise I shall… There’s a novel by Paul de Kock",Why do you suppose I sleep well?,0,0.44724903,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 Let her be! Don't you see that you are putting all sorts of things into her head? "" And it was quite true; he had put ideas into her head and had taught her some things she did not know before, which was very astonishing. One morning he saw her rummaging through some paper to stick something on her little face. It was rice powder, with which she plastered the delicate satin of her skin with a perverse taste. He smeared her with the paper until it scratched her face, calling her a miller's daughter. Another time she brought back some red ribbons to patch up her cap, that old black hat that made her so ashamed. And he asked her furiously where these ribbons came from. Eh ? it was on the back that she had won that! Or had she bought them at the rat race? Slut or thief, perhaps, already both. On several occasions, he thus saw nice objects in her hands, a carnelian ring, a pair of sleeves with a little lace, one of those doubled hearts, ""Tâtez-y"", which girls put between their two nenais. Coupeau wanted to crush everything; but she defended her business with rage , it was hers, ladies had given it to her, or else she had traded in the workshop. For example, the heart, she had found in rue d'Aboukir. When her father crushed her heart with a kick, she remained erect, white and tense, while an inner revolt pushed her to throw herself on him, to snatch something from him. For two years, she had dreamed of having this heart, and now it was being flattened! No, she thought it was too strong, it would end in the end!","Ah! yes, for example, the desire came to him! That is to say, it itched all over his body to run off and pass by, as old Coupeau used to say. He made her live too much in that idea, an honest girl would have been fired up by it. Even, with his way of yelling, he taught her things she didn't know yet, which was quite surprising. So, little by little, she took on funny ways.",1,0.6617043,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 Some say, ‘Strike now.’","Or maybe the spy of Shu and Wu made a conspiracy against each other, causing my ruler and ministers to rebel, but he took advantage of it and attacked",1,0.6619229,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 An attempt at divorce could only lead to a scandalous court trial, which would be a godsend for his enemies, for the slandering and humiliation of his high position in society. And in the soul of Alexei Alexandrovich, in spite of the now complete, as it seemed to him, contemptuous indifference to his wife, there was only one feeling in relation to her - an unwillingness that she could unhindered with Vronsky, so that her crime would be beneficial to her. The main goal - to determine the position with the least disorder - was not achieved even through divorce. In addition, during divorce, even when trying to divorce, it was obvious that the wife broke off relations with her husband and joined with her lover. This one thought so vexed him that, merely imagining it, he groaned with inner pain, got up, changed his position in the carriage and, frowning, spent a long time after that wrapping his chilled and bony legs in a fluffy rug.","Therefore he has found a primary cause, that is, justice. And so he is at rest on all sides, and consequently he carries out his revenge calmly and successfully, being persuaded that he is doing a just and honest thing. But I see no justice in it, I find no sort of virtue in it either, and consequently if I attempt to revenge myself, it is only out of spite. Spite, of course, might overcome everything, all my doubts, and so might serve quite successfully in place of a primary cause, precisely because it is not a cause. But what is to be done if I have not even spite (I began with that just now, you know). In consequence again of those accursed laws of consciousness, anger in me is subject to chemical disintegration.",0,0.44682658,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 The trouble is simple, never mention the military affairs. Chief clerk Yang Yong said: "" I saw that the prime minister often wrote books from the school, and I secretly thought that it was not necessary: the husband is to govern and have the body, and the upper and lower cannot invade each other. Kong Ming sighed and said, ""He knows me well!"" Said: ""Kongming is troubled by little food, it can last for a long time!"" The messenger resigned, returned to Wuzhangyuan, saw Kongming, and said: ""Sima Yi received the women's clothes, read the book, and did not get angry, but only asked the Prime Minister how he slept and ate. When a certain responds like this, he said: 'Eating less food is annoying, how can it last for a long time?'"" The food he eats is only a few liters a day."" Yi Gu called the generals.","As for food, he does not eat more than a few pints of grain daily.” “Indeed, he eats little and works much,” remarked Sima Yi. “Can he last long?” The messenger returned to his own side and reported that Sima Yi had taken the whole episode in good part and shown no sign of anger. He had only asked about the Prime Minister's hours of rest, and food, and such things. He had said no word about military matters. “I told him that you ate little and worked long hours, and then he said, 'Can he last long?' That was all.” “He knows,” said Zhuge Liang, pensively. First Secretary Yang Yong presently ventured to remonstrate with his chief. “I notice,” said Yang Yong, “that you check the books personally. I think that is needless labor for a Prime Minister to undertake.",1,0.6621414,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 Fully twist! How shameful you are! Well, come on, my angel; How do you get such thoughts? You are not sick, my dear, you are not sick at all; you bloom, right bloom; a little pale, but still blooming. And what kind of dreams and visions are you having! It's a shame, my dear, fullness; you spit on these dreams, just spit. Why do I sleep well? Why is nothing being done to me? Look at me, mother. I live for myself, I sleep peacefully, I'm healthy, well done, well done, it's a pleasure to watch. Fullness, fullness, darling, ashamed. Get better. After all, I know your head, mother, if you find something, you already went to dream and yearn for something. Stop it for me, my dear. Go to people? - never! No, no and NO! And what do you think it is, what does it come upon you? Yes, even out! No, mother, I won’t allow it, I arm myself with all my might against such an intention. I’ll sell my old tailcoat and I’ll walk the streets in one shirt, and you won’t need us. No, Varenka, no; I already know you! This is bullshit, pure bullshit! And what is true is that Fedor alone is to blame for everything: she, apparently, is a stupid woman, she has advised you on everything. And you, mother, do not believe her. Yes, you still don’t know everything, darling, don’t you? She is a stupid, quarrelsome, absurd woman; she and the husband of her deceased survived from the light. Or did she irritate you in some way? No, no, mother, no way! And then how will I be , what will I have to do? No, Varenka, darling, get that out of your head. What are you missing from us? We do not get enough of you , you love us, so live yourselves there humbly; sew or read, and perhaps don’t sew, it doesn’t matter, just live with us. Otherwise, you can judge for yourself, well, what will it look like then? .. So I'll get you some books, and then, perhaps, we'll get together to go for a walk somewhere again. Only you, completeness, mother, completeness, gain your mind and do not bless from trifles! I will come to you, and in a very short time, only you will accept my direct and frank confession for this: it’s not good, darling, very bad! Of course, I am an unlearned person and I myself know that I am an unlearned person, that I studied with copper money, but I’m not talking about that, it’s not about me here, but I’ll intercede for Ratazyaev, your will. He is my friend, so I will stand up for him. He writes well, very, very, and again very well. I do not agree with you and cannot agree at all. The writing is flowery, jerky, with figures, there are different thoughts; very good! Perhaps you read without feeling, Varenka, or you were not in a good mood when you read it, you got angry with Fyodor for something, or something bad happened to you there. No, you read it with a feeling, better, when you are happy and cheerful and in a pleasant mood, for example, when you hold candy in your mouth - that's when you read it. I do not argue (who is against this), there are writers better than Ratazyaev, there are even very best ones, but they are good and Ratazyaev is good; they write well and he writes well. He is special to himself, he pees so-so, and he is very good at pissing. Well, goodbye, mother; I can no longer write; you need to hurry, there is work. Look, mother, beloved ya, calm down, and may the Lord be with you, and I remain","And I'm alone, they'll be thrown by a storm onto a desert island, and I'm looking, I'm looking with my eyes in gray-blue waves.",0,0.4458311,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 In the end, and after much persuasion, the old fellow consented and went. “But the Emperor anxiously desires to see you face to face, if haply you would not mind making the effort.” The seer said, “I am but an old man of the barren hill country, without learning or wisdom; you shame me, O Emperor, by calling me, and I know not why.” The First Ruler received him affably, surprised at the contrast between his hoary head and fresh boyish complexion. “This is no common man,” thought the First Ruler, and he treated him with distinguished courtesy. The venerable one had blue eyes, with square and sparkling pupils. His carriage was erect, and he stood straight as a pine tree.","Because the steamed buns made in his temple are so good, it has this name. It is not far from Tiejian Temple. Now that the monk's class was over, and the evening tea was laid, Jia Zhen ordered Jia Rong to invite Sister Feng to rest. Seeing that there were still several sisters-in-law accompanying her daughter, Sister Feng resigned from everyone and brought Baoyu and Qin Zhong to Shuiyue Nunnery. It turned out that Qin Ye was old and sick, so he couldn't be here, so he only ordered Qin Zhong to wait for An Ling. Then Qin Zhong only followed Sister Feng and Baoyu to Shuiyue Nunnery, and Jing Xu led the two apprentices, Zhishan and Zhizhi, to greet them. Sister Feng waited when she came to the clean room to change her clothes and clean her hands. Seeing that Zhizhi had grown taller and looked more rested, she said, ""Why don't you master and disciple go to us these days?",0,0.44580093,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 I've taken all the money out of my business, for example, the offices for my business used to occupy nearly a whole floor, but now all I need is a little room at the back where I work with one apprentice. ""So you're also working at the court yourself?"" asked K. ""That's just what I want to learn more about."" ""I need all of them,"" said the businessman. So that means I mustn't neglect anything that might be of use to me; even if there's very little hope of a particular thing being of any use I can't just throw it away. ""Most of all, I don't want to lose my case, well that's obvious. It wasn't just using up the money that caused the difficulty, of course, it was much more to do with me not working at the business as much as I used to. So everything I have I've put to use in my case. ""Would you mind explaining that to me?"" asked K. ""I'd be glad to,"" said the businessman. If you want to do something about your trial you don't have much time for anything else.""","I need every one of them, said Block. ""Tell me why, will you?"" asked K. ""With pleasure,"" said the tradesman. ""To begin with, I don't want to lose my case, as you can well understand. And so I daren't ignore anything that might help me; if there's even the faintest hope of an advantage for myself I daren't reject it. That's why I've spent every penny I possess on this case of mine. For instance, I've drawn all the money out of my business; my business offices once filled nearly a whole floor of the building where now I need only a small back room and an apprentice. Of course it's not only the withdrawal of my money that has brought the business down, but the withdrawal of my energies. When you're trying to do anything you can to help your case along you haven't much energy to spare for other things."" ""So you've been working on your own behalf as well,"" interrupted K., "" that's precisely what I wanted to ask you about.""",1,0.6632328,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 Albertine’s general popularity, though it seemed unlikely to lead to any advantageous consequence, had ingrained in her the distinguishing characteristic of those who, by being always sought after, never need to make overtures (a trait which can be found, for similar reasons, in another remoter region of society, among the great ladies of the fashionable world), and who, rather than boasting of their successes, tend to conceal them. She would never have said of someone, ‘He’s dying to see me’; and she spoke of everybody with great good-will, giving the impression that she was the one seeking out others, trying to be liked by them. If one alluded to a young fellow who had just been cruelly berating her for not wishing to see him again, Albertine would sing his praises (‘Such a nice chap!’) instead of priding herself publicly on a conquest, or bearing him a grudge. In fact, she was put out by being so well liked, because it meant that she sometimes had to be unpleasant to people; whereas her natural inclination was to be pleasant. This inclination had even led her to adopt a form of lying, which is peculiar to people who like to be useful, or the type of man who has come up in the world. This mode of insincerity, which exists in embryo in a great many people, consists in the inability to be satisfied with the pleasure that can be given to a single person by a single act. If, for example, Albertine’s aunt required her attendance at a boring reception, she did not think that in the gratification she afforded her aunt by going to it there was enough moral benefit to herself. So her response to the kindly welcome of their hosts was to assure them that, having been looking forward to meeting them for a long time , she had begged her aunt to let her come on this occasion. Even this struck her as insufficient; and if she came across one of her friends at the reception, someone who had reason to be heartbroken, Albertine would say, ‘I didn’t like to think of you being on your own, so I thought you might like me to keep you company. Perhaps you’d prefer us to leave and go somewhere else? I’ll do whatever you like – I’d give anything for you not to be so sad’ (which was, of course, quite true). However, there were times when the fictitious purpose destroyed the real purpose: on one occasion, she called on a particular lady, with the intention of asking her to do a favour for a friend; but at the sight of this warm-hearted lady, Albertine, responding all unawares to her own principle of the multifarious usefulness of the single act, thought it would be nicer if she could appear to have had no other reason for visiting the lady than the enjoyment she expected from her company. The lady was extremely touched to think that Albertine had come such a long way on an impulse of simple friendship. Albertine, seeing how affected the lady was, responded with an even stronger fondness for her. The trouble was, though, that she was herself so keenly affected by the friendliness which she had falsely said was her reason for being there that she was reluctant to ask the favour for the friend, in case the lady should doubt the sincerity of her feelings (which were in fact quite sincere). The lady might believe that the favour was Albertine’s real reason for coming, which was true; but then she would assume that Albertine had no real pleasure in seeing her, which was untrue. The upshot was that Albertine would return home without having asked the favour, after the manner of those men who, having done a good turn to a woman in the hope of having their way with her, then keep their desire for her to themselves, so as to preserve a semblance of selflessness. On other occasions, it could not be said that the true purpose was sacrificed to the subsidiary one invented on the spur of the moment; but the real one was at such variance with the ostensible one that, had the person who was so touched by hearing the latter learned the former, all pleasure would instantly have been turned into a shock of mortification. Such contradictions will be clarified, eventually, by the rest of my story. They are, however, very prevalent, in even the most diverse circumstances of life, as can be shown by an example deriving from a very different order of experience. A married man brings his mistress down to live in the town where he is garrisoned. His wife, who is still in Paris, half-aware of how things stand, frets and broods, and pours her jealousy into letters to the husband. A moment comes when the mistress is obliged to go back to Paris for a day. Her lover finds her pleas that he should accompany her irresistible, and arranges to take twenty-four hours’ leave. But as he is good and suffers from hurting his wife, he arrives at her house, tells her, shedding a few sincere tears, that, terrified by her letters, he has found a way to escape to come to her. console and embrace him. But if the latter learned why he came to Paris, her joy would no doubt change into pain, unless seeing the ungrateful man made her happier in spite of everything than he made her suffer with his lies. He would sometimes agree to mediate between two estranged friends, and this caused him to be called the most obliging of men. He thus found the means of giving by a single trip a proof of love to both his mistress and his wife. Among the men who seemed to me to practice the system of multiple endings most consistently is M. de Norpois. But he was not satisfied just to seem to be helping out the one who had come to ask his advice: when speaking to the other party, he would present his intervention, not as resulting from a request by the first friend, but as being in the interest of the second; and this he had little difficulty in doing, faced with a man whose mind was already prepared to believe he was dealing with ‘the most helpful of men’. In this way, by hedging his bets, operating ‘against’ his client, as the parlance of the outside-brokers has it, he never jeopardized his influence; the services he rendered never had the effect of compromising his credit, but always of partly enriching it. Also, each of these services, seemingly doubly rendered, enhanced in that same measure his reputation as a dependable friend, and an effectively dependable friend at that, one whose aim is true, whose every stroke counts, as was attested by the gratitude of the two assisted parties. Such duplicity in obligingness (not unbelied at times, as in all human creatures) made up a significant element of the character of M. de Norpois. At the Ministry, he often made use of my father, who was rather a guileless man, while letting him think he was being of use to him.","Then, because he is a good-hearted fellow and is sorry for the pain he causes his wife, he goes round to see her and says, with the help of a few sincere tears, that her letters have so disturbed him that he managed to get away, so as to bring her consolation and a kiss. He has thus contrived, with a single journey, to prove his love both to the mistress and to the wife. But if the wife should find out the real reason why he came back to Paris, her joy would no doubt turn to pain, unless of course the pleasure of being with the miscreant should outweigh the sorrow of knowing him for a liar. One of the men who seemed to me to be most diligent in applying this principle of the plurality of purposes was M. de Norpois. He had been known to step in and act as an intermediary between two friends who had fallen out; and for this he was seen as the most obliging of men.",1,0.6632328,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 “Remember that one day in Heaven is a year on earth,” his generals reminded him. “You’ve been gone well over a century. “But I’ve only been gone half a year!” What job did the Jade Emperor give you this time?” “This time,” Monkey reported, “the Jade Emperor saw sense and appointed me Great Sage Equal to Heaven. Monkey laughed, sweeping back onto his throne.","The Great Sage said, It won't be long. It won't be long!"" Let's talk and walk, and enter the depths of the cave. The four health workers will clean and rest in peace and kowtow to the end of their prayers. All said: ""The great sage has been in the sky for one hundred years, what is the role of the great sage?"" The great sage smiled and said: ""I remember only half a year, so why do you talk about a hundred years? "" One year below. """,1,0.66345096,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 We do not know if he should be exonerated because circumstances favored his lack of good intentions—that is, if one chooses not to speak of his bad intentions. What was actually mixed up and mixed up in this great confusion were the emotional concepts or the states of mind of ""Noch"" and ""Again"" - one of the most confusing, complicated and bewitched experiences ever, and an experience to taste it In reality, however, apart from the theoretical arrangement, with regard to snow and frost, God knows how long it had been winter again at that time, yes, this had always been interrupted only very temporarily, by burning summer days with a blue sky of such exaggerated depth that that it played into the blackness - that is, of summer days, just as they also fell in winter, if one left aside the snow, which incidentally also fell in every summer month. When Mrs. Chauchat returned (different from what Hans Castorp had dreamed of - but about it at his place), it was Advent again and the shortest day, the beginning of winter, astronomically speaking, was imminent. How often had Hans Castorp chatted with the late Joachim about this great confusion which mixed up the seasons, threw them together, robbed the year of its structure and thereby made it boringly entertaining or boringly boring, so that according to an early statement made with disgust by Joachim, there could be no question of time at all. And from his very first day up here Hans Castorp had felt an immoral appetite to taste that experience—in particular at the five prodigious meals in the cheerfully stenciled dining hall, where he had had his first slight, and relatively innocent, dizzy spell of this sort.","Frau Chauchat’s return (and her return had been very different from anything Hans Castorp had dreamed—but of that at the appropriate time) had coincided with a return of the season of Advent and the year’s shortest days; the beginning of winter, astronomically speaking, had been imminent. In reality, however—that is, apart from any theoretical system—in terms of snow and cold, it had been winter now for God knew how long; winter had been interrupted, as always, only very briefly by scorching summer days with a sky whose blue was so inordinately deep that it verged on black—by summer days, then, that could occur in the midst of winter, too, if you ignored the snow, which, by the by, could also fall at any time during summer. How often Hans Castorp had chatted with the late Joachim about the grand confusion that mixed up the seasons higgledy-piggledy, robbing the year of its divisions and making it diverting in a boring sort of way, or boring in a diverting sort of way, until, as the late Joachim had put it out of pure disgust early on, there was no time as such. What got mixed up so higgledy-piggledy in this grand confusion were those emotional concepts and states of consciousness that define “still” and “again”—which is one of the most bewildering, perplexing, and bewitching experiences there is.",1,0.66345096,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 60 she then called, and the swords fell away, leaving Red Boy completely unscarred. But as soon as the swords and the pain had gone, and Red Boy realized he had been given a truly undignified hairstyle, he lunged again at Guanyin with his lance. “Now time for the spell—no, not yours,” she reassured Monkey, spotting his look of horror. “You promise to take the commandments?” Red Boy nodded, desperate to live. Guanyin shaved off almost all his hair except for three tufts plaited into tiny braids. “This one’s just for Red Boy.” Guanyin produced another golden circlet from her sleeve—partner to Monkey’s headache hoop. When she threw them at Red Boy, one attached to his head, the other four to his hands and feet. “Disappear!” With one wave, it became five rings.","Hearing the words, the traveler said: ""You are originally the lower realm of the Tianpeng Water God, and you know my old grandson's name. "" That strange voice: "" Hey! You slandered Bima Wen, when you were in that disaster, you made me wait for a long time, and today you come here to deceive people! Don't be rude, eat me a palladium!"" , raise the stick and hit the head. The two of them gambled and fought in the dark night in the middle of the mountain. Good to kill: The golden eyes of the walker are like lightning, and the eyes of the demon are like silver flowers. This one is sprayed with colorful mist, and the other is full of red clouds.",1,0.66366893,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 Magnon needed two children! These children were precious to their mother; they represented eighty francs a month. In that dark masonry of evil of which she was a part, everything is known, secrets are kept, and each aids the other. These eighty francs were paid with great exactness, in the name of M. Gillenormand, by his rent-agent, M. Barge, retired constable, Rue du Roi de Sicile. The children dead, the income was buried. Magnon sought for an expedient.","In what other way do we pass, and in this we are known!",0,0.44507724,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 Now that you have entered the ascetic, if you still commit murder as you did back then, you will only hurt your life, you will not be able to go to the West, and you will not be able to become a monk! If this matter is reported to an official, even if your father is an official, you can’t justify it.” Evil! It's so evil!"" It turned out that this monkey couldn't bear popularity all his life, he saw that Sanzang was only concerned with his thoughts, and he couldn't hold back his anger and said: ""Since you are such a class, you say that I can't be a monk, and I can't go to the west, so I don't need to punish me. You hate me, I'll go back!"" , my grandson five hundred years ago, according to the season when Huaguoshan called the king a strange, I don’t know how many people were killed. If you say that you are in office, you will have to sue.” The walker said: “I don’t hide it from the master. Sanzang said: “Only It was because you confiscated and confiscated, that you bullied the world and deceived the world, and you only suffered the trouble of five hundred years ago. Sanzang didn't agree, so he turned his head upside down, and said, ""Old grandson, go!"" How can you justify it?","The Buddha gave him charge of a golden pagoda. That is why the Guardian King was also called Li the Pagoda Bearer. From then on Nezha came to regard Lord Buddha as his father, so as to end the strife between father and son. Guardian King Li said to Nezha, “Son, you have something to say.” This was the reason why the father showed no anger. Nezha went on his knees, kowtowed, and said, “Father, there is a daughter in the earthly world, whom you have forgotten, and she is a witch. Three hundred years ago she stole some fragrant candles from the Spiritual Hall. Lord Buddha sent you and me to arrest her, and by rights she should have been put to death then. But we spared her life, and she in gratitude worships you as her father, and honors me as brother, and that is the explanation of tablet and incense burner in her cave.” The king was astonished and said, “I had completely forgotten her.",1,0.6641048,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 You are going to take the story of Jacques’ Captain as a mere fiction, but you will be wrong. I assure you that, such as he told the story to his master, so did I hear it at the Invalides, in I’m not sure what year, but on the feast of Saint-Louis. I was dining with Monsieur de Saint-Etienne the adjutant of the Invalides.19 The story-teller spoke in the presence of several other officers of the establishment who had knowledge of the facts and was a serious man who didn’t seem at all like a joker. This is a timely moment for me to give you a reminder for both the present and the future that you must be circumspect if you want to avoid taking the truth for lies and lies for the truth in Jacques’ conversation with his master. Now that I have warned you, I wash my hands of the matter. They really are quite an extraordinary pair of men, you are saying to me. Is that what makes you suspicious? Firstly, nature is so varied, especially when it comes to instinct and character, that there is nothing in a poet’s imagination, however bizarre, for which experience and observation might not find a model in nature. I, who speak to you now, I have met the real-life counterpart of the Médecin malgré lui whom I had thought until then to be the most mad and whimsical of inventions.20 – What! The real-life counterpart of the husband whose wife says to him: ‘I’ve three children on my hands’, and he tells her: ‘Put them on the ground.’ * The very same. But they keep asking for bread.' ' So give them a taste of the whip'? This is an account of his conversation with my wife.",‘They are asking me for bread.’ ‘Give them a beating.’ Exactly.,1,0.66432256,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 By the way, let us say a word or two of Ivan's feeling to his brother Dmitri. He positively disliked him; at most, felt sometimes a compassion for him, and even that was mixed with great contempt, almost repugnance. Ivan looked with indignation on Katerina Ivanovna's love for his brother. Mitya's whole personality, even his appearance, was extremely unattractive to him. Later on, after seeing the police captain and the prosecutor, and hearing the details of the charge and the arrest, he was still more surprised at Alyosha, and ascribed his opinion only to his exaggerated brotherly feeling and sympathy with Mitya, of whom Alyosha, as Ivan knew, was very fond. He found his brother agitated, nervously excited. Yet he went to see Mitya on the first day of his arrival, and that interview, far from shaking Ivan's belief in his guilt, positively strengthened it. The first to meet him was Alyosha, and Ivan was greatly surprised to find that, in opposition to the general opinion of the town, he refused to entertain a suspicion against Mitya, and spoke openly of Smerdyakov as the murderer. Mitya had been talkative, but very absent-minded and incoherent. He used violent language, accused Smerdyakov, and was fearfully muddled.","We met Alyosha first, but after talking with him, he was very amazed that he did not even want to suspect Mitya, but directly pointed to Smerdyakov as a murderer, which was contrary to all other opinions in our city. After seeing the police officer, the prosecutor, learning the details of the accusation and arrest, he was even more surprised at Alyosha and attributed his opinion only to his extremely excited brotherly feeling and his compassion for Mitya, whom Alyosha, as Ivan knew, was very fond of. By the way, let us say only a couple of words once and for all about Ivan's feelings for his brother Dmitry Fedorovich: he absolutely did not love him and sometimes felt a lot of compassion for him, but even then mixed with great contempt that reached the point of disgust. All Mitya, even with all his figure, was extremely unsympathetic to him. Ivan looked at Katerina Ivanovna's love for him with indignation. However, he also saw the defendant Mitya on the first day of his arrival, and this meeting not only did not weaken his convictions of his guilt, but even strengthened him. He found his brother then in anxiety, in painful excitement. Mitya was long-spoken, but absent-minded and scattering, spoke very harshly, accused Smerdyakov and was terribly confused.",1,0.66432256,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 I actually felt a warm sympathy for him, and had for a long time … well, and besides, you’ll agree, there was the splendid uniform, which means a lot for a child … I went about in a dark green tailcoat, with long and narrow tails, gold buttons, red piping on the gold-embroidered sleeves, a high, stiff, open collar, embroidered with gold, and embroidered coattails; white, close-fitting chamois breeches, a white silk waistcoat, silk stockings, and buckled shoes … or, during the emperor’s promenades on horseback, if I was in his suite, high top-boots. Two days later everybody already knew me in the palace and in the Kremlin and called me ‘le petit boyard.’ At home they nearly lost their minds. Napoleon remembered about me; I was taken, brought there without any explanations, the uniform of the deceased, a boy of about twelve, was tried on me, and when they brought me before the emperor in the uniform, and he nodded his head at me, they announced to me that I had been granted a favor and made his majesty’s chamber-page. I went home only to sleep. Two days after that Napoleon’s chamber-page, the Baron de Bazancourt,15 died from the hardships of the campaign. I was glad.","No, he was always right , it was just lice and old cheese and Luther's catechism everywhere. And the people were middle-class citizens in three-story cottages; they ate and drank to distress, enjoyed toddy and election politics and shopped day in and day out with green soap and brass chamber and fish. But at night when it thundered then they lay and read only anxiety in Johan Arendt. Yes, get us one real exception, see if it is possible! Give us here, for example, a developed crime, an outstanding sin! But not the ridiculous and bourgeois ABC delusion, no the rare and hair-raising extravagance, the delicate backlessness, the royal sin, full of the raw glory of hell. No, it was all small. What do you think of the elections, my lord?",0,0.44438392,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 Karl found his comrades already sound asleep, but he had stayed away too long. He was just about to spread out what he had brought appetizingly on the papers he found in the basket, only to wake up his comrades when everything was ready, when, to his horror, he left his trunk locked behind and the key to it in his pocket fully open with half the contents strewn about in the grass. "" Get up!"" he cried. ""You sleep and meanwhile there were thieves."" ""Is something missing?"" asked Delamarche. Robinson wasn't quite awake yet and was already reaching for the beer. ""I don't know,"" exclaimed Karl, ""but the suitcase is open. It's imprudent to go to bed and leave your suitcase here."" Delamarche and Robinson laughed, and the first said: ""You mustn't stay away so long next time. The hotel is ten paces away and you need to go to the Three hours there and back. We were hungry, thought you might have something to eat in your suitcase and tickled the lock until it opened itself. Besides, there was nothing in it and you can pack everything up again."" ""So,"" said Karl, staring into the rapidly emptying basket and listening to the peculiar noise that Robinson made as he drank, as the liquid first penetrated deep into his throat, but then snapped back with a kind of whistle, and only then to roll down in great outpouring. "" Have you finished eating yet? "" he asked when the two of them catch their breath for a moment. "" Haven't you already eaten at the hotel?"" asked Delamarche, who thought Karl was claiming his share. ""If you still want to eat, hurry up,"" said Karl and went to his suitcase. He seems to be in a mood,"" said Delamarche to Robinson. ""I'm not in a mood,"" said Karl, ""but is it perhaps right in my absence to break open my suitcase and throw out my things. I know one has to put up with some things among comrades, and I've also prepared myself for it, but that's too much. I'll stay at the hotel and not go to Butterford. Eat up quickly, I have to give the basket back."" Of course, he is, after all, a German. “You see, Robinson, that’s how one should speak,” said Delamarche, “it’s such a refined way of speaking. We placed our trust in him, dragged him along for an entire day, and as a result we lost at least half a day, and now—simply because someone at the hotel enticed him over there—he takes off, simply takes off.” “But being a two-faced German, rather than doing so openly, he comes up with that excuse about the trunk, and being a coarse German too, he cannot leave without calling us thieves and insulting our honor, simply because we played a little prank on him with his trunk.” You warned me about him a while back, but I was quite a fool and took him along. "" Karl, who was packing his things, said without turning around: ""Just keep talking and make it easier for me to leave. I know quite well what comradeship is. I also have friends in Europe - de and no one can accuse me of having behaved wrongly or meanly towards him We are of course out of touch now, but if I should come back to Europe again everyone will give me a warm welcome and will immediately recognize me as their friend. And you Delamarche and you Robinson, I should have betrayed you when you were kind enough, which I will never conceal, to take me on and offer me the prospect of an apprenticeship at Butterford But it's something else. You have nothing, and in my eyes that doesn't demean you in the least, but you begrudge me my small possessions and are therefore trying to humiliate me, I can't stand it. And now that you've broken into my suitcase, don't apologize with a word, but continue to insult me and continue to insult my people - but in doing so you also deprive me of any opportunity to stay with you. By the way, none of that really applies to you, Robinson. My only objection to your character is that you are too dependent on Delamarche."" ""So we see,"" said Delamarche, stepping up to Karl and giving him a slight push as if to draw his attention, ""there let's see how you turn out. All day long you walked behind me, held onto my skirt, imitated my every movement and were otherwise as quiet as a mouse. But now that you feel some support in the hotel, start making big speeches. You're a little smartass and I don't even know if we're going to take it so calmly. Whether we won't ask for the lesson for what you copied from us during the day. You Robinson, we envy him – he says – his possessions. A day's work in Butterford - not to mention California - and we've got ten times more than you've shown us and than you may have hidden in the lining of your skirt. So keep your mouth shut!” Karl had gotten up from his suitcase and now saw Robinson approaching, who was sleepy but a little animated from the beer. “If I stayed here a long time,” he said, I might be able to do more Experience surprises. You seem interested in beating me up.' ' All patience wears out,' said Robinson. ""You'd better keep quiet, Robinson,"" said Karl, without taking his eyes off Delamarche, ""inwardly you agree with me, but outwardly you must stand with Delamarche."" ""Perhaps you want to bribe him?"" asked Delamarche. ""I can't think of one,"" said Karl. ""I'm glad I'm going and I don't want anything to do with either of you anymore. I just want to say one more thing, you accused me of having money and hiding it from you. Assuming it's true, wasn't it a very right thing to do to people I'd only known a few hours, and don't your present behavior confirm the rightness of such a course of action?"" ""Keep calm,"" said Delamarche to Robinson, although he didn't move. Then he asked Karl: ""Since you are so impudently candid, since we are standing together so comfortably, go further with this sincerity and admit why you actually want to go to the hotel. "" Karl had to step over the suitcase Delamarche had stepped so close to him, but undeterred, Delamarche pushed the suitcase aside, took a step forward, stepping on a white shirt shirt that had been left lying on the grass, and repeated his question.","You see, Robinson, that's how they speak, said Delamarche, ""that's the fine way of speaking. He's just a German. You warned me about him early on, but I was a good fool and took him anyway. We put our trust in him, dragged him with us for a whole day, lost at least half a day as a result and now – because someone in the hotel lured him to him, he says goodbye, just says goodbye. But because he is a false German, he does not do this openly, but uses the suitcase as an excuse, and because he is a rude German, he cannot leave without insulting our honor and calling us thieves because we made a little joke with his suitcase.",1,0.6645403,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 Returning to the room, he usually began to entertain and console his dear boy with something, told him fairy tales, funny anecdotes, or represented various funny people whom he managed to meet, even imitated animals, how they howl or shout funny. But Ilyusha really did not like it when his father distorted and represented himself as a jester. Although the boy tried not to show that it was unpleasant for him, but with a pain of his heart he realized that his father was humiliated in society, and always, obsessively, remembered the “washcloth” and that “terrible day”. Ninochka, legless, quiet and meek sister of Ilyushechka, also did not like it when her father distorted (as for Varvara Nikolaevna, she had already gone to Petersburg to take courses long ago), but the half-witted mother was very amused and laughed heartily when her husband began , it happened, to represent something or make some funny gestures. This was the only way to comfort her; all the same, the rest of the time she constantly grumbled and cried that now everyone had forgotten her, that no one respected her, that she was offended, etc., and so on. But in the very last days, she suddenly, as it were, changed. She often began to look in the corner at Ilya and began to think. She became much more silent, became quiet, and if she began to cry, then quietly so that they would not hear. The captain noticed this change in her with bitter bewilderment. At first she didn’t like the boys' visits and only annoyed her, but then the cheerful shouts and stories of the children began to entertain her, and in the end she liked her so much that if these boys had stopped walking, she would have been terribly yearning. When the children told what or started to play, she laughed and clapped her hands. She called others to her and kissed them. He met his little visitors with homage, waited upon them hand and foot; he was ready to be their horse and even began letting them ride on his back, but Ilusha did not like the game and it was given up. He even hoped that Ilusha would now get over his depression, and that that would hasten his recovery. She was particularly fond of Smurov. In spite of his alarm about Ilusha, he had not, till lately, felt one minute's doubt of his boy's ultimate recovery. As for the captain, the presence in his room of the children, who came to cheer up Ilusha, filled his heart from the first with ecstatic joy. I began to buy them presents, gingerbread, nuts, arrange tea, spread sandwiches. It should be noted that during all this time no money was transferred from him. The then two hundred rubles from Katerina Ivanovna he received exactly as predicted by Alyosha. And then Katerina Ivanovna, having found out more about their circumstances and about Ilya's illness, visited their apartment herself, met the whole family and even managed to charm the crazy staff captain. Since then, her hand did not grow thin, and the staff captain himself, crushed by horror at the thought that his boy would die, forgot his old ambition and humbly accepted the alms. All this time, Doctor Herzenstube, at the invitation of Katerina Ivanovna, went constantly and accurately every other day to the patient, but there was little sense from his visits, and he stuffed him with drugs terribly. But on that day, that is, this Sunday morning, a new doctor was expected at the staff-captain, who came from Moscow and was considered a celebrity in Moscow. He was deliberately discharged and invited from Moscow by Katerina Ivanovna for a lot of money - not for Ilyushechka, but for another one purpose, which will be discussed below and in its place, but since he arrived, she asked him to visit Ilyushechka, about which the staff captain had been informed in advance. He had no premonition of the arrival of Kolya Krasotkin, although he had long wished that this boy, for whom his Ilyushechka was so tormented, would come at last. At the very moment when Krasotkin opened the door and appeared in the room, everyone, the staff captain and the boys, crowded around the patient's bed and looked at the tiny Medellian puppy just brought in, just born yesterday, but ordered by the staff captain a week before to entertain and to console Ilyushechka, who was longing for the disappeared and, of course, already dead Beetle. But Ilyusha, who had already heard and knew for three more days that he would be presented with a small dog, and not a simple one, but a real Medelyan dog (which, of course, was terribly important), although he showed out of a subtle and delicate feeling that he was happy with the gift, but that's all , both the father and the boys, clearly saw that the new dog, perhaps, only stirred the memory of the unfortunate Beetle tortured by him even more strongly in his heart. The puppy lay and fumbled beside him, and he, with a sickly smile, stroked him with his thin, pale, dry hand; it was even evident that he liked the dog, but ... There was still no bug, yet it was not a bug, but if the bug and the puppy were together, then there would be complete happiness!","For it is difficult for any of us to calculate exactly on what scale his words or his gestures are apparent to others. Partly from the fear of exaggerating our own importance, and also because we enlarge to enormous proportions the field over which the impressions formed by other people in the course of their lives are obliged to extend, we imagine that the accessories of our speech and attitudes scarcely penetrate the consciousness, still less remain in the memory of those with whom we converse, It is, we may suppose, to a prompting of this sort that criminals yield when they 'touch up' the wording of a statement already made, thinking that the new variant cannot be confronted with any existing version. But it is quite possible that, even in what concerns the millennial existence of the human race, the philosophy of the journalist, according to which everything is destined to oblivion, is less true than a contrary philosophy which would predict the conservation of everything. In the same newspaper in which the moralist of the ""Paris column"" says to us of an event, of a work of art, all the more forcibly of a singer who has enjoyed her 'crowded hour': ""Who will remember this in ten years' time?"" overleaf does not the report of the Académie des Inscriptions speak often of a fact, in itself of smaller importance, of a poem of little merit, which dates from the epoch of the Pharaohs and is now known again in its entirety? Is it not, perhaps, just the same in our brief life on earth? And yet, some years later, in a house in which M. de Norpois, who was also calling there, had seemed to me the most solid support that I could hope to find, because he was the friend of my father, indulgent, inclined to wish us all well, and besides, by his profession and upbringing, trained to discretion, when, after the Ambassador had gone, I was told that he had alluded to an evening long ago when he had seen the moment in which I was just going to kiss his hands, not only did I colour up to the roots of my hair",0,0.4438415,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 Varvara Alekseyevna! Little mother, my dove! I am lost, we are both lost, both of us together, irretrievably lost. My reputation, mypride – allgone. It is the end of me, and the end of you, little mother, it is the irreversible end of both of us together! And it is I, I who have brought you to this! They are persecuting me, little mother, they treat me with contempt, hold me up to ridicule, and the landlady has simply begun to abuse me; she has been shouting and shouting at me today, she railed and railed at me, reduced me to the lowest of the low. And this evening in Ratazyayev is room one of them began reading out the draft of a letter I’d written you, it had somehow fallen out of my pocket. Mother of mine, what a feast of derision they had over it! They named us, they named us out loud and hooted with laughter, the traitors! I went into the room where they were and accused Ratazyayev of treachery; I told him he was a traitor. Ratazyayev replied that I myself was a traitor, that I spent my time with ‘various conquests’: ‘ You’ve been hiding it from us,’ he said. ‘You’re a Lovelace. ‘ * And now they all call me ‘Lovelace’, and won’t address me by any other name! Do you hear, my little angel, do you hear? Now they know everything, they have all the facts, they know about you, my darling, they know about all your personal matters, they know it all! Why, even Faldoni was there, and he is in cahoots with them; I sent him out to the sausage-shop to buy something; he simply refused to go; ‘I’m busy,’ he said. ‘But you’re obliged to,’ I said. ‘Oh no, I’m not,’ he said; ‘you haven’t paid my mistress her rent, so I’m not obliged to you.’ I wasn’t going to have an uneducated peasant insulting me, and I told him he was a fool; to which he replied: ‘ And you’re another one.’ I think he must have been drunk, to say such an offensive thing to me – and indeed I said to him: ‘You’re drunk, you peasant!’ To which he replied: ‘Well, if I am it is not at your expense, you haven’t got enough money to get drunk yourself; you even go begging for a few copecks from some woman or other.’ And then he added: ‘And you’re a gentleman, too!’ You see what it has come to, little mother? I’m ashamed to go on living, Varenka! Like some kind of outcast; worse than a vagrant without a passport. It is a terrible disaster! -it is the end of me, quite simply the end! The irreversible end!","Certainly Albert is the best fellow in the world. I had a strange scene with him yesterday. I went to take leave of him; for I took it into my head to spend a few days in these mountains, from where I now write to you. As I was walking up and down his room, my eye fell upon his pistols. """,0,0.44372097,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 “I don’t understand, you knew and then you didn’t know! You said, let’s leave it at that? Well, you shouldn’t be so gullible! Especially if you don’t know anything. Your gullibility is the result of your ignorance. Well, well, I'll drop the subject!"" he added, hastily, observing the prince's impatient gesture. "" Perhaps you are suspicious? But do you know what these good people have in their minds' eye—Gania and his sister? “But I came here on a personal matter and… have some explaining to do. Hell, one can’t even die without having to explain oneself. I seem to be doing nothing else. Will you hear me out?”","Do you realize what these two, brother and sister, are up to? Perhaps you have a shrewd idea?… All right, have it your way , I shan’t go on about it…” he added, having noticed the Prince shift irritably.",1,0.66519314,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 “Precisely a minute before death,” the Prince began eagerly, carried away by his recollection, and apparently oblivious of everything else, “just after he had mounted the short steps and set foot on the scaffold. Here he glanced in my direction. I looked into his face and it all became clear to me… I don’t quite know how to describe it! I really wish someone, perhaps you, would paint it! Yes, best of all you! I thought at the time that the picture would be absolutely enthralling. You see, nothing must be left out of what had gone before. He had been in prison and wasn’t expecting the execution for at least another week. He had been counting on the usual formalities, that the warrant papers had to be sent somewhere and wouldn’t be back for another week. And suddenly quite by chance the procedure was shortened. At five in the morning he was still asleep. It was the end of October. At five it’s still cold and dark. The prison warden came in, softly, accompanied by guards, and touched him gently on the shoulder. The prisoner raised his head, leant on his elbow – the light dazzled him. ‘What’s going on?’ – ‘The execution is at ten.’ Having just woken up, he didn’t want to believe it. He began to argue that the death warrant wasn’t due for another week. But once he had shaken off sleep completely, he stopped answering and fell silent – that’s how the story goes anyway. Then he said, ‘It’s difficult when it’s all so sudden…’ and he fell silent again, and would not say anything more. Well, the next three or four hours were spent on the usual things: the priest; the breakfast, which comes with wine; boiled beef and coffee (pure mockery, if you ask me! The cruelty of it! On the other hand, to be honest, the innocent souls do it out of the goodness of their hearts, and regard it as philanthropy); then the toilet. (I take it you know what toilet for the condemned means?) Finally he is driven through the town to the place of execution… I think here too the impression is that one will live for ever while the journey is in progress. I can just imagine what must have been going through his head on the way: ‘ It’s all a long way off yet, I’ve three more streets to live; when we come to the end of this one, there’ll be another one, and then the next with the baker’s on the right… it’ll be ages before we reach the baker’s!’ There are people everywhere, shouting, noise, ten thousand faces, ten thousand pairs of eyes – all this has to be endured, and with it the thought, ‘There’s ten thousand of them, but not one is to be executed, whereas I will be!’ These are the preliminaries. A series of steps leads up to the scaffold. At the bottom he suddenly burst into tears, yet he was a strong, manly fellow, a hardened criminal, by all accounts. A priest was constantly at his side, in the tumbrel too, repeating something over and over that hardly penetrated the man’s consciousness, and when it did, only for a second. I presume it was like that. you know how one would long to sit down and shut one's eyes and wait, and wait? If some dreadful thing were suddenly to happen; if a house were just about to fall on one;—don't The priest, who seemed to be a wise man, had stopped talking now, and only held the cross for the wretched fellow to kiss. His legs must have become suddenly feeble and helpless, and he felt a choking in his throat—you know the sudden feeling one has in moments of terrible fear, when one does not lose one's wits, but is absolutely powerless to move? At last he began to mount the steps; his legs were tied, so that he had to take very small steps. Well, when this terrible feeling came over him, the priest quickly pressed the cross to his lips, without a word—a little silver cross it was- At the foot of the ladder he had been pale enough; but when he set foot on the scaffold at the top, his face suddenly became the colour of paper, positively like white notepaper. And as soon as it touched his lips, he’d open his eyes, perk up for a few seconds and his legs would begin to move. He’d kiss the crucifix avidly, unceasingly, as though to stock up, just in case, as for a journey, but it’s unlikely that he felt any kind of religious experience at the time. And so, right up to the stretcher-board… It’s strange, but people hardly ever faint in these final moments! On the contrary the mind is very much alert and the head is pulsating with life, on, on and on, like an engine at full speed. I imagine various thoughts pulsating too, in fragments, ridiculous, irrelevant mostly. ‘ That chap staring – he’s got a wart on his head. The lower button on the executioner’s coat’s gone rusty…’ and all the time you know precisely what’s going on around you. There’s one particular bit you just can’t get out of your mind, that you can’t shut out or even avoid, it’s always there and everything is centred on it and revolves around it. And to think that that’s how it’ll be till the last split second when the head is already on the block, waiting and… taking it all in, suddenly becoming aware of the swish of metal! Be sure you’ll hear it! If it’d been me, I’d have been listening out for it and would have heard it! It would only have been for one insignificant fraction of a second, but I’d have heard it! And imagine, people still debate about whether for a second or so the severed head continues to be aware that it has been severed – just think of that! And what if it’s five seconds!… Show the scaffold so that only the last tread of the steps is visible. The condemned has placed his foot on it, one can see his head, his face is as white as a sheet, the priest is holding forth the crucifix, his livid lips are there to meet it eagerly, and he’s watching, and – taking it all in. The crucifix and the head – there’s your picture. The faces of the priest, the executioner, his two assistants and a few heads and some pairs of eyes below – all that should be depicted in the background, enveloped in a mist as it were… That’s how I picture it.”","In his Memoirs, Armand Moncharmin claims that the nose of the guest in question was ‘long, thin and transparent’. Personally, I am inclined to suggest that it was false, and that Moncharmin mistook mere shininess for transparency. Thanks to the advances of science, as everyone knows, remarkably believable false noses can now be made for those people who have lost their own as a result of natural causes or an operation. Did the ghost really invite himself to the directors’ table that night?",0,0.44369078,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 ‘Yesterday, after meeting you, I came home and devised a painting. Artists always paint Christ according to the gospel legends; I would paint him differently: I would depict him alone — after all, his disciples did leave him alone sometimes. I would leave with him only one small child. The child is playing beside him; perhaps telling him some story in his childish language. Christ is listening to him, but now falls into reflection; his hand remains unconsciously, forgetfully, on the child’s radiant little head. He is looking into the distance, at the horizon; a thought as enormous as the whole world rests in his gaze; his face is sad. The child has fallen silent, rests his elbows on his knees, and, propping his cheek in his hand, raises his head and reflectively, as children sometimes reflect, looks at him with an intent gaze. The sun is setting ... That is my painting! You are innocent, and in your innocence lies all your perfection. Oh, just remember that! What do you care about my passion for you? You are mine now, I shall be near you all my life … I shall die soon.” ","You are mine now, all my life I will be near you ... I shall soon be dead.’",1,0.6654106,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 Are you really so terribly in love with her?” “Horribly,” Wehsal answered, shaking his head. “I can’t tell you what I’ve had to endure—thirsting, craving for her. If only I could say it would kill me, but a man can’t live with it or die from it. While she was gone, things began to get a little better, I was gradually forgetting her. But since she has returned and I see her every day, it’s so bad sometimes that I bite my arm and flail my hands in the air and don’t know what to do. It’s a craving that shouldn’t even exist, and yet you can’t wish it didn’t exist. Once it has hold of you, you can’t wish it away, because you’d have to wish your life away, it’s so bound up with it, and you can’t do that— what good would dying do? Afterward—with pleasure. In her arms—only too gladly. But before? That’s nonsense, because life is desire, and desire is life, and life can’t be its own enemy. That is the damned hole I’m boxed into. And although I say ‘damned,’ it’s just a turn of phrase; it’s as if I were someone else—it can’t apply to me. There are so many different tortures, Castorp, and if a man is subjected to one torture, all he wants is for it to end, that is his one and only goal. But you can be rid of the torture of fleshly desire by only one means, and under one condition—by its being satisfied. Otherwise—no, not for any price! It is an instrument of torture, and if it hasn’t got hold of you, then you don’t bother with it, but whoever it does get hold of soon gets to know our Lord Jesus Christ and the tears roll down his cheeks. Good God in heaven, what an instrument, what a piece of business it is. Flesh desires flesh, simply because it is not your own, but belongs to another soul— how strange and yet, when viewed in the right light, how unpretentious, how unabashedly benign. You could almost say: if that’s all it wants, then in God’s name, let it have it. What is it I want, Castorp? Do I want to shed her blood? Do I want to kill her? I just want to fondle her! Castorp, dear Castorp, forgive me for whimpering like this, but for God’s sake she could comply with my wishes. And there’s something higher, loftier about it, too. I’m not a beast , I’m a human being, too, after all. The desire of the flesh wanders here and there, it is not bound, not fixed, which is why we call it bestial. But once it is fixed on a given human being with a face, why then our mouths speak of love. You don’t desire just her torso and the fleshly shell of her body; in fact, if her face were fashioned just a little differently, why, it’s quite possible you wouldn’t even want her whole body at all. Which only proves that I love her soul, and that I love her with my soul. Because to love the face is to love the soul.”","Because what could a man like Versilov possibly have to say to a girl like my mother, even if he had felt an overpowering love for her? I've heard depraved people say that men and women may just meet and start the whole thing in complete silence, which, of course, I consider an unspeakable monstrosity. Nevertheless, I can't see how else Versilov could've started with my mother, even if he had wanted to. Could one imagine him starting with a literary analysis of Polinka Sachs? As a matter of fact, they had much more urgent things to worry about than excursions into Russian literature. From what I gathered from Versilov directly when he let himself go once, they used to hide in corners, wait for each other on the stairs, bounce away from each other red-faced when someone went by; and many a time the ""tyrannical landowner"" would tremble at the sight of any lowly servant scrubbing the floors despite all his seignorial rights!",0,0.4434197,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 The next day, the ministers of the Sima Shi Conference said: ""Today, the Lord is debauched and unreasonable, blaspheming the prostitutes, listens to slander, and blocks the path of the virtuous: his crimes are worse than Changyi in the Han Dynasty, and he cannot rule the world. I sincerely follow the methods of Yi Yin and Huo Guang. Why don't you establish a new ruler to protect the society and the world? "" All the people responded, ""The generals do things like Yi and Huo, the so-called obeying the heavens and obeying people, who would dare to disobey?"" Palace, the Queen Mother is playing. The Empress Dowager said, ""Who does the general want to appoint as king?"" The master said, ""My minister sees King Cao Ju of Pengcheng, who is smart, benevolent and filial: he can be the ruler of the world."" The Empress Dowager said, ""King Pengcheng is the uncle of the old man. Why should it be? All eyes turned toward the speaker, who was Sima Fu, uncle of Sima Shi. However, there is Cao Mao, Duke of Gaogui, and grandson of Emperor Pi. He is of mild temperament, respectful, and deferential, and may be set up. You, Sir, and the high officers of state might favorably consider this.” Then spoke one, saying, “Her Majesty speaks well; Cao Mao should be raised to the throne.” Cao Fang, weeping, threw himself at her feet. He gave up the seal, got into his carriage and went away. The Duke of Gaogui was summoned to the capital. The Empress called Cao Fang into her presence in the Hall of Principles and blamed him, saying, “You are vicious beyond measure, a companion of lewd men and a friend of vile women. You are unfitted to rule. Therefore resign the imperial seal and revert to your status of Prince of Qi (an ancient state). You are forbidden to present yourself at court without special command.” Only a few faithful ministers restrained their tears and bade him farewell. A later poem says:","When Lin Tai-yue heard these words, she put on a smile. “You just mark this,” she observed.",0,0.44305816,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 An hour passed before she appeared. One had arrived and was not; one was in no hurry and yet one felt driven by impatience. The young Poles, patriotically attracted also by the military bugle calls that sounded across the water from the area around the public gardens, had come on deck, and, excited by the Asti, brought out cheers to the Bersaglieri on the other side, who were exercising. Eyes glazed over, a cigarette between his trembling fingers, he swayed back and forth in his inebriation, laboriously keeping his balance. And so he saw it once again, that most astounding of landing sites, that stunning composition of fantastic architecture offered up by the Republic to the reverent gaze of approaching seafarers, the ethereal splendor of the Palace and the Bridge of Sighs, the waterside columns with lion and saint, the majestically projecting flank of the fairy-tale basilica, and the view beyond of the gateway and giant clock, and taking it all in he mused that arriving in Venice by land, at the railway station, was tantamount to entering a palace by the back door and that one should approach this most improbable of cities only as he had now done by ship, over the seas. Since he would have fallen at the first step, he did not dare move, yet he displayed a pitiful exuberance, buttonholing everyone who came up to him, jabbering, winking, sniggering, lifting a wrinkled, ringed finger as a part of some fatuous teasing, and licking the corners of his mouth with the tip of his tongue in a revoltingly suggestive manner. His brain was too old to withstand the wine as his youthfully resilient companions had done: he was miserably drunk. But it was repugnant to behold the state to which the spruced-up fossil had been reduced by his spurious coalition with the young. Aschenbach watched him with a frown, and once more a feeling of numbness came over him, as if the world were moving ever so slightly yet intractably towards a strange and grotesque warping, a feeling which circumstances kept him from indulging in, however, because at that moment the pounding of the engine started up again and the ship, interrupted so near its destination, resumed its course through the San Marco Canal. ","But it was disgusting to see the state in which his false association with youth had brought the pupated old man. His old brain had not been able to withstand the crying like the sprightly youthful ones, he was miserably drunk. Stunned eyes, a cigarette between his trembling fingers, he swayed, struggling to keep his balance, on the spot, pulled back and forth by the intoxication. As he would have fallen at the first step, he did not dare move, but he displayed a pitiful arrogance, grabbing the button of anyone who came near him, slurring, winking, giggling, raising his ringed, wrinkled index finger in silly teasing, and licked the corners of his mouth with the tip of his tongue in a hideously ambiguous way. Aschenbach watched him with dark brows, and again he felt dizzy, as if the world showed a slight but uncontrollable tendency to distort itself into the strange and grotesque; a feeling that circumstances prevented him from indulging in, just as the pounding activity of the engine began again and the ship resumed its journey through the San Marco Canal, which had been interrupted so near to its destination. So he saw it again, the most astonishing landing place, that dazzling composition of fantastic edifices, which the republic opposed to the reverent glances of approaching seafarers: the light splendor of the palace and the Bridge of Sighs, the columns with lions and saints on the bank, the magnificent protruding flank of the fairy tale temple, the view of the gateway and giant clock, and looking at it he thought that arriving at the train station in Venice on land means entering a palace through a back door, and that one cannot do otherwise than he does now, than on ships, than via the high seas should reach the most unlikely of cities.",1,0.6658453,1
+"lexical = 80, order = 60 This lucid explanation took K. aback at first, but he replied in the same subdued voice as the painter: ""It seems to me that you're contradicting yourself."" ""In what way?"" asked the painter patiently, leaning back with a smile. The smile awoke in K. a suspicion that he was now about to expose contradictions not so much in the painter's statements as in the Court procedure itself. However, he did not retreat, but went on: ""You made the assertion earlier that the Court is impervious to proof, later you qualified that assertion by confining it to the public sessions of the Court, and now you actually say that an innocent man requires no help before the Court. That alone implies a contradiction. But, in addition, you said at first that the Judges can be moved by personal intervention, and now you deny that definite acquittal, as you call it, can ever be achieved by personal intervention. In that lies the second contradiction."" ""These contradictions are easy to explain,"" said the painter. ""We must distinguish between two things: what is written in the Law, and what I have discovered through personal experience; you must not confuse the two. In the code of the Law, which admittedly I have not read, it is of course laid down on the one hand that the innocent shall be acquitted, but it is not stated on the other hand that the Judges are open to influence. Now, my experience is diametrically opposed to that. I have not met one case of definite acquittal, and I have met many cases of influential intervention. It is possible, of course, that in all the cases known to me there was none in which the accused was really innocent. But is not that improbable? Among so many cases no single case of innocence? Even as a child I used to listen carefully to my father when he spoke of cases he had heard about; the Judges, too, who came to his studio were always telling stories about the Court, in our circle it is in fact the sole topic of discussion; no sooner did I get the chance to attend the Court myself than I took full advantage of it; I have listened to countless cases in their most crucial stages, and followed them as far as they could be followed, and yet -- I must admit it -- I have never encountered one case of definite acquittal."" ""Not one case of acquittal, then,"" said K. as if he were speaking to himself and his hopes, ""but that merely confirms the opinion that I have already formed of this Court. It is a pointless institution from any point of view. A single executioner could do all that is needed."" ""You mustn't generalize,"" said the painter in displeasure. ""I have only quoted my own experience."" ""That's quite enough,"" said K. ""Or have you ever heard of acquittals in earlier times?"" ""Such acquittals,"" replied the painter, ""are said to have occurred. Only it is very difficult to prove the fact. The final decisions of the Court are never recorded, even the Judges can't get hold of them, consequently we have only legendary accounts of ancient cases. These legends certainly provide instances of acquittal; actually the majority of them are about acquittals, they can be believed, but they cannot be proved. All the same, they shouldn't be entirely left out of account, they must have an element of truth in them, and besides they are very beautiful. I myself have painted several pictures founded on such legends."" ""Mere legends cannot alter my opinion, said K., ""and I fancy that one cannot appeal to such legends before the Court? "" The painter laughed. "" No, one can't do that,"" he said. ""Then there's no use talking about them,"" said K., willing for the time being to accept the painter's opinions, even where they seemed improbable or contradicted other reports he had heard. He had no time now to inquire into the truth of all the painter said, much less contradict it, the utmost he could hope to do was to get the man to help him in some way, even should the help prove inconclusive. Accordingly he said: ""Let us leave definite acquittal out of account, then; you mentioned two other possibilities as well."" ""Ostensible acquittal and postponement. These are the only possibilities,"" said the painter. ""But won't you take off your jacket before we go on to speak of them? You look very hot."" ""Yes,"" said K., who had been paying no attention to anything but the painter's expositions, but now that he was reminded of the heat found his forehead drenched in sweat. ""It's almost unbearable."" The painter nodded as if he comprehended K.'s discomfort quite well. ""Couldn't we open the window? "" asked K. "" No,"" replied the painter. ""It's only a sheet of glass let into the roof, it can't be opened. "" Now K. realized that he had been hoping all the time that either the painter or he himself would suddenly go over to the window and fling it open. He was prepared to gulp down even mouthfuls of fog if be could only get air. The feeling of being completely cut off from the fresh air made his head swim. He brought the flat of his hand down on the feather bed and said in a feeble voice: ""That's both uncomfortable and unhealthy."" ""Oh, no,"" said the painter in defense of his window. ""Because it's hermetically sealed it keeps the warmth in much better than a double window, though it's only a simple pane of glass. And if I want to air the place, which isn't really necessary, for the air comes in everywhere through the chinks, I can always open one of the doors or even both of them."" Somewhat reassured by this explanation, K. glanced round to discover the second door. The painter saw what he was doing and said: ""It's behind you, I had to block it up by putting the bed in front of it."" Only now did K. see the little door in the wall. "" This is really too small for a studio,"" said the painter, as if to forestall K.'s criticisms. ""I had to manage as best I could. Of course it's a bad place for a bed, just in front of that door. The Judge whom I'm painting just now, for instance, always comes in by that door, and I've had to give him a key for it so that he can wait for me in the studio if I happen to be out. Well, he usually arrives early in the morning, while I'm still asleep. And of course however fast asleep I am Of course, it always wakes me up from the deepest sleep when the door next to the bed opens. I could take the key away from him, but that would only make things worse. You would lose all respect for the judges to hear the curses I greet him with when he climbs over my bed early in the morning. It is easy enough to burst open any of the doors here. "" All during these exchanges K. kept considering whether he should take off his jacket, but at last he realized that if he did not he would be incapable of staying any longer in the room, so he took it off, laying it, however, across his knee, to save time in putting it on again whenever the interview was finished. Scarcely had he taken off his jacket when one of the girls cried: ""He's taken off his jacket now,"" and he could hear them all crowding to peer through the cracks and view the spectacle for themselves. "" The girls think,"" said the painter, ""that I'm going to paint your portrait and that's why you are taking off your jacket."" ""I see,"" said K., very little amused, for he did not feel much better than before, although he was now sitting in his shirt-sleeves. Almost morosely he asked: ""What did you say the other two possibilities were?"" He had already forgotten what they were called. "" Ostensible acquittal and indefinite postponement,"" said the painter. ""It lies with you to choose between them. I can help you to either of them, though not without taking some trouble, and, as far as that is concerned, the difference between them is that ostensible acquittal demands temporary concentration, while postponement taxes your strength less but means a steady strain. First, then, let us take ostensible acquittal. If you decide on that, I shall write down on a sheet of paper an affidavit of your innocence. The text for such an affidavit has been handed down to me by my father and is unassailable. Then with this affidavit I shall make a round of the Judges I know, beginning, let us say, with the Judge I am painting now, when he comes for his sitting tonight. I shall lay the affidavit before him, explain to him that you are innocent, and guarantee your innocence myself. And that is not merely a formal guarantee but a real and binding one. "" In the eyes of the painter there was a faint suggestion of reproach that K. should lay upon him the burden of such a responsibility. ""That would be very kind of you,"" said K. ""And the Judge would believe you and yet not give me a definite acquittal?"" ""As I have already explained,"" replied the painter. ""Besides, it is not in the least certain that every Judge will believe me; some Judges, for instance, will ask to see you in person. And then I should have to take you with me to call on them. Though when that happens the battle is already half won, particularly as I should tell you beforehand, of course, exactly what line to take with each Judge. The real difficulty comes with the Judges who turn me away at the start -- and that's sure to happen too. I shall go on petitioning them, of course, but we shall have to do without them, though one can afford to do that, since dissent by individual Judges cannot affect the result. Well then, if I get a sufficient number of Judges to subscribe to the affidavit, I shall then deliver it to the Judge who is actually conducting your trial. Possibly I may have secured his signature too, then everything will be settled fairly soon, a little sooner than usual. Generally speaking, there should be no difficulties worth mentioning after that, the accused at this stage feels supremely confident. Indeed it's remarkable, but true, that people's confidence mounts higher at this stage than after their acquittal. There's no need for them to do much more. The Judge is covered by the guarantees of the other Judges subscribing to the affidavit, and so he can grant an acquittal with an easy mind, and though some formalities will remain to he settled, he will undoubtedly grant the acquittal to please me and his other friends. Then you can walk out of the Court a free man."" ""So then I'm free,"" said K. doubtfully. "" Yes,"" said the painter, ""but only ostensibly free, or more exactly, provisionally free. For the Judges of the lowest grade, to whom my acquaintances belong, haven't the power to grant a final acquittal, that power is reserved for the highest Court of all, which is quite inaccessible to you, to me, and to all of us. What the prospects are up there we do not know and, I may say in passing, do not even want to know. The great privilege, then, of absolving from guilt our Judges do not possess, but they do have the right to take the burden of the charge off your shoulders. That is to say, when you are acquitted in this fashion the charge is lifted from your shoulders for the time being, but it continues to hover above you and can, as soon as an order comes from on high, be laid upon you again. As my connection with the Court is such a close one, I can also tell you how in the regulations of the Law Court offices the distinction between definite and ostensible acquittal is made manifest. In definite acquittal the documents relating to the case are said to be completely annulled, they simply vanish from sight, not only the charge but also the records of the case and even the acquittal are destroyed, everything is destroyed. That's not the case with ostensible acquittal. The documents remain as they were, except that the affidavit is added to them and a record of the acquittal and the grounds for granting it. The whole dossier continues to circulate, as the regular official routine demands, passing on to the higher Courts, being referred to the lower ones again, and thus swinging backwards and forwards with greater or smaller oscillations, longer or shorter delays. These peregrinations are incalculable. A detached observer might sometimes fancy that the whole case had been forgotten, the documents lost, and the acquittal made absolute. No one really acquainted with the Court could think such a thing. No document is ever lost, the Court never forgets anything. One day -- quite unexpectedly -- some Judge will take up the documents and look at them attentively, recognize that in this case the charge is still valid, and order an immediate arrest. I have been speaking on the assumption that a long time elapses between the ostensible acquittal and the new arrest; that is possible and I have known of such cases, but it is just as possible for the acquitted man to go straight home from the Court and find officers already waiting to arrest him again. Then, of course, all his freedom is at an end."" ""And the case begins all over again?"" asked K. almost incredulously. "" Certainly,"" said the painter. ""The case begins all over again, but again it is possible, just as before, to secure an ostensible acquittal. One must again apply all one's energies to the case and never give in. "" These last words were probably uttered because he noticed that K. was looking somewhat collapsed. ""But,"" said K., as if he wanted to forestall any more revelations, ""isn't the engineering of a second acquittal more difficult than the first?"" ""On that point,"" said the painter, ""one can say nothing with certainty. You mean, I take it, that the second arrest might influence the Judges against the accused? That is not so. Even while they are pronouncing the first acquittal the Judges foresee the possibility of the new arrest. Such a consideration, therefore, hardly comes into question. But it may happen, for hundreds of reasons, that the Judges are in a different frame of mind about the case, even from a legal viewpoint, and one's efforts to obtain a second acquittal must consequently be adapted to the changed circumstances, and in general must be every whit as energetic as those that secured tie first one."" ""But this second acquittal isn't final either,"" said K., turning away his head in repudiation. ""Of course not,"" said the painter. ""The second acquittal is followed by the third arrest, the third acquittal by the fourth arrest, and so on. That is implied in the very conception of ostensible acquittal."" K. said nothing. "" Ostensible acquittal doesn't seem to appeal to you,"" said the painter. ""Perhaps postponement would suit you better. Shall I explain to you how postponement works?"" K. nodded. The painter was lolling back in his chair, his nightshirt gaped open, he had thrust one hand inside it and was lightly fingering his breast. ""Postponement,"" he said, gazing in front of him for a moment as if seeking a completely accurate explanation, ""postponement consists in preventing the case from ever getting any further than its first stages. To achieve that it is necessary for the accused and his agent, but more particularly his agent, to remain continuously in personal touch with the Court. Let me point out again that this does not demand such intense concentration of one's energies as an ostensible acquittal, yet on the other hand it does require far greater vigilance. You daren't let the case out of your sight, you visit the Judge at regular intervals as well as in emergencies and must do all that is in your power to keep him friendly; if you don't know the Judge personally, then you must try to influence him through other Judges whom you do know, hut without giving up your efforts to secure a personal interview. If you neglect none of these things, then you can assume with fair certainty that the case will never pass beyond its first stages. Not that the proceedings are quashed, but the accused is almost as likely to escape sentence as if he were free. As against ostensible acquittal postponement has this advantage, that the future of the accused is less uncertain, he is secured from the terrors of sudden arrest and doesn't need to fear having to undergo -- perhaps at a most inconvenient moment -- the strain and agitation which are inevitable in the achievement of ostensible acquittal. Though postponement, too, has certain drawbacks for the accused, and these must not be minimized. In saying this I am not thinking of the fact that the accused is never free; he isn't free either, in any real sense, after the ostensible acquittal. There are other drawbacks. The case can't be held up indefinitely without at least some plausible grounds being provided. So as a matter of form a certain activity must be shown from time to time, various measures have to be taken, the accused is questioned, evidence is collected, and so on. For the case must be kept going all the time, although only in the small circle to which it has been artificially restricted. This naturally involves the accused in occasional unpleasantness, but you must not think of it as being too unpleasant. For it's all a formality, the interrogations, for instance, are only short ones; if you have neither the time nor the inclination to go, you can excuse yourself; with some Judges you can even plan your interviews a long time ahead, all that it amounts to is a formal recognition of your status as an accused man by regular appearances before your Judge."" Already while these last words were being spoken K. had taken his jacket across his arm and got up. "" He's getting up now,"" came the cry at once from behind the door. ""Are you going already?"" asked the painter, who had also got up. ""I'm sure it's the air here that is driving you away. I'm sorry about it. I had a great deal more to tell you. I have had to express myself very briefly. But I hope my statements were lucid enough."" ""Oh, yes,"" said K., whose head was aching with the strain of forcing himself to listen. In spite of K.'s confirmation, the painter went on to sum up the matter again, as if to give him a last word of comfort: ""Both methods have this in common, that they prevent the accused from coming up for sentence."" ""But they also prevent an actual acquittal,"" said K. in a low voice, as if embarrassed by his own perspicacity. ""You have grasped the kernel of the matter,"" said the painter quickly. K. laid his hand on his overcoat, but could not even summon the resolution to put on his jacket. He would have liked best of all to bundle them both together and rush out with them into the fresh air. Even the thought of the girls could not move him to put on his garments, although their voices were already piping the premature news that he was doing so. The painter was anxious to guess K.'s intentions, so he said: ""I take it that you haven't come to any decision yet on my suggestions. That's right. In fact, I should have advised you against it had you attempted an immediate decision. It's like splitting hairs to distinguish the advantages and disadvantages. You must weigh everything very carefully. On the other hand you mustn't lose too much time either."" ""I'll come back again soon,"" said K., in a sudden fit of resolution putting on his jacket, flinging his overcoat across his shoulders, and hastening to the door, behind which the girls at once began shrieking. K. felt he could almost see them through the door. ""But you must keep your word,"" said the painter, who had not followed him, ""or else I'll have to come to the Bank myself to make inquiries."" ""Unlock this door, will you?"" said K., tugging at the handle, which the girls, as he could tell from the resistance, were hanging on to from outside. ""You don't want to be bothered by the girls, do you?"" asked the painter. ""You had better take this way out,"" and he indicated the door behind the bed. K. was perfectly willing and rushed back to the bed. But instead of opening the bedside door the painter crawled right under the bed and said from down there: "" Wait just a minute. Wouldn't you like to see a picture or two that you might care to buy?"" K. did not want to be discourteous, the painter had really taken an interest in him and promised to help him further, also it was entirely owing to K.'s distractedness that the matter of a fee for the painter's services had not been mentioned, consequently he could not turn aside his offer now, and so he consented to look at the pictures, though he was trembling with impatience to be out of the place. Titorelli dragged a pile of unframed canvases from under the bed; they were so thickly covered with dust that when he blew some of it from the topmost, K. was almost blinded and choked by the cloud that flew up. "" Wild Nature, a heathscape,"" said the painter, handing K. the picture. It showed two stunted trees standing far apart from each other in darkish grass. In the background was a many-hued sunset. ""Fine,"" said K., ""I'll buy it."" K.'s curtness had been unthinking and so he was glad when the painter, instead of being offended, lifted another canvas from the floor. ""Here's the companion picture,"" he said. It might be intended as a companion picture, but there was not the slightest difference that one could see between it and the other, here were the two trees, here the grass, and there the sunset. But K. did not bother about that. ""They're fine prospects,"" he said. ""I'll buy both of them and hang them up in my office."" ""You seem to like the subject,"" said the painter, fishing out a third canvas. "" By a lucky chance I have another of these studies here. "" But it was not merely a similar study, it was simply the same wild heathscape again. The painter was apparently exploiting to the full this opportunity to sell off his old pictures. ""I'll take that one as well,"" said K. ""How much for the three pictures?"" ""We'll settle that next time,"" said the painter. ""You're in a hurry today and we're going to keep in touch with each other anyhow. I may say I'm very glad you like these pictures and I'll throw in all the others under the bed as well. They're heathscapes every one of them , I've painted dozens of them in my time. Some people won't have anything to do with these subjects because they're too somber, but there are always people like yourself who prefer somber pictures."" But by now K. had no mind to listen to the professional pronouncements of the peddling painter. ""Wrap the pictures up,"" he cried, interrupting Titorelli's garrulity, ""my attendant will call tomorrow and fetch them."" ""That isn't necessary,"" said the painter. ""I think I can manage to get you a porter to take them along with you now."" And at last he reached over the bed and unlocked the door. ""Don't be afraid to step on the bed,"" he said. ""Everybody who comes here does that. "" K. would not have hesitated to do it even without his invitation, he had actually set one foot plump on the middle of the feather bed, but when he looked out through the open door he drew his foot back again. ""What's this?"" he asked the painter. ""What are you surprised at?"" returned the painter, surprised in his turn. ""These are the Law Court offices. Didn't you know that there were Law Court offices here? There are Law Court offices in almost every attic, why should this be an exception? My studio really belongs to the Law Court offices, but the Court has put it at my disposal. "" It was not so much the discovery of the Law Court offices that startled K.; he was much more startled at himself, at his complete ignorance of all things concerning the Court. He accepted it as a fundamental principle for an accused man to be always forearmed, never to let himself be caught napping, never to let his eyes stray unthinkingly to the right when his judge was looming up on the left -- and against that very principle he kept offending again and again. Before him stretched a long passage, from which was wafted an air compared to which the air in the studio was refreshing. Benches stood on either side of the passage, just as in the lobby of the offices that were handling K.'s case. There seemed, then, to be exact regulations for the interior disposition of these offices. At the moment there was no great coming and going of clients. A man was half sitting, half reclining on a bench, his face was buried in his arms and he seemed to be asleep; another man was standing in the dusk at the end of the passage. K. now stepped over the bed, the painter following him with the pictures. They soon found an usher -- by this time K. recognized these men from the gold button added to the buttons on their ordinary civilian clothing-- and the painter gave him instructions to accompany K. with the pictures. K. tottered rather than walked, keeping his handkerchief pressed to his mouth. They had almost reached the exit when the girls came rushing to meet them, so K. had not been spared even that encounter. The girls had obviously seen the second door of the studio opening and had made a detour at full speed, in order to get in. ""I can't escort you any farther,"" cried the painter laughingly, as the girls surrounded him. "" Till our next meeting. And don't take too long to think it over K. did not even look back. When he reached the street he hailed the first cab that came along. He must get rid of the usher, whose gold button offended his eyes, even though, likely enough, they escaped everyone else's attention. The usher, zealously dutiful, got up beside the coachman on the box, but K. made him get down again. Midday was long past when K. reached the Bank. He would have liked to leave the pictures in the cab, but was afraid that some day he might be required to recall himself to the painter by their means. So he had them carried into his office and locked them in the bottom drawer of his desk, to save them for the next few days at least from the eyes of the Assistant Manager.",", it wakes me with a start when the door behind my bed suddenly opens. You would lose any respect you have for the Judges if you could hear the curses that welcome him when he climbs over my bed in the early morning. I could certainly take the key away from him again, but that would only make things worse.",1,0.6658453,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 There was not a large selection of wines, nor was there Madeira; but wine there was nevertheless. There was vodka, rum and Lisbon wine, all of the poorest quality but in sufficient quantity. Besides the traditional rice and honey, there were three or four dishes, one of which consisted of pancakes, all prepared in Amalia Ivanovna’s kitchen. Two samovars were boiling in order that tea and punch might be offered after dinner. Katerina Ivanovna had herself seen to purchasing the provisions, with the help of one of the lodgers, an unfortunate little Pole who had somehow been stranded at Madame Lippewechsel’s. He promptly put himself at Katerina Ivanovna’s disposal and had been running around all day as fast as his legs could carry him, and was very anxious that everyone should be aware of it. For every minor problem he ran to Katerina Ivanovna, even hunting her out at the market, at every instant called her “Pani.” She was thoroughly sick of him before the end of it, though she had declared at first that she could not have got on without this “serviceable and magnanimous man.” It was one of Katerina Ivanovna’s characteristics to paint everyone she met in the most glowing colors. Her praises were so exaggerated as to be embarrassing on occasion; she would invent various circumstances to the credit of her new acquaintance and quite genuinely believe in their reality. Then all of a sudden she would be disillusioned and would rudely and contemptuously repulse the person she had been literally adoring only a few hours previously. She had a naturally merry, lively and peace-loving disposition, but due to her continual failures and misfortunes she had come to desire so keenly that everyone should live in peace and joy and should not dare to break the peace that the slightest problem, the smallest disaster reduced her almost to a frenzy, and she would pass in an instant from the brightest hopes and fancies to cursing her fate and raving and knocking her head against the wall. Amalia Ivanovna, too, suddenly acquired extraordinary importance in Katerina Ivanovna’s eyes and was treated by her with extraordinary respect, probably only because Amalia Ivanovna had thrown herself heart and soul into the preparations. She had undertaken to lay the table, to provide the linen, crockery, etc., and to cook the dishes in her kitchen, and Katerina Ivanovna had left it all in her hands and gone off to the cemetery. Everything had been well done. Nor did she approve of the cap with its new ribbons—‘can This pride of hers, though well deserved, for some reason displeased Katerina Ivanovna—‘just think, as if but for Amalia Ivanovna we’d never have got the table laid!’ My Papa, who was a colonel and very nearly Governor, would sometimes have a table laid in his house for forty guests, and your Amalia Ivanovna, or rather Ludwigovna, wouldn’t even have been allowed in his kitchen…’ annoyance: out of all the lodgers invited to attend the funeral, almost no one had turned up apart from the little Pole, who had just managed to run down to the cemetery; and yet all the most insignificant and impoverished lodgers had turned up to the wake, the meal that is—some of them not even sober; nothing but riff-raff in fact. I ask you! Charity! However, Katerina Ivanovna had decided not to give vent to her feelings for the time being, although she had resolved in her heart that Amalia Ivanovna must be given a snub this very day and be put firmly in her place, or else she’d get heaven knows what ideas about herself. But meanwhile she just treated her coldly. And another unpleasant fact had contributed to Katerina Ivanovna’s Amalia Ivanovna, feeling that she had acquitted herself very well, proudly welcomed the returning guests in all her finery, wearing a black dress and new mourning ribbons in her cap. it be that that stupid German woman is actually proud because she’s the mistress of the house, and she’s consented to help her poor lodgers out of charity? The older and more respectable ones among them stayed away, as if by common consent. Peter Petrovich Luzhin, for instance, who could be described as the most respectable of all the tenants, did not appear, though Katerina Ivanovna had the evening before told the whole world, that is Amalia Ivanovna, Polenka, Sonia and the Pole, that he was the most generous, noble-hearted man with a large property and vast connections, who had been a friend of her first husband’s, and a guest in her father’s house, and that he had promised to use all his influence to secure her a considerable pension. It must be noted that when Katerina Ivanovna praised anyone’s connections and fortune, it was without any ulterior motive, entirely disinterestedly, for the mere pleasure of increasing the importance of the person praised. Probably “taking his cue” from Luzhin, “that contemptible wretch Lebeziatnikov had not turned up either. Why did he think so highly of himself? He was only invited out of kindness and because he was sharing the same room with Peter Petrovich and was a friend of his: it would have been awkward not to invite him.” Among those who failed to appear were “the genteel lady and her old-maidish daughter,” who had only been lodgers in the house for the last fortnight, but had several times complained of the noise and uproar in Katerina Ivanovna’s room, especially when Marmeladov had come back drunk. Katerina Ivanovna heard this from Amalia Ivanovna who, quarrelling with Katerina Ivanovna, and threatening to turn the whole family out of doors, had shouted at her that they “were not worth the foot” of the honorable lodgers whom they were disturbing. Katerina Ivanovna determined now to invite this lady and her daughter, “whose foot she was not worth,” and who had turned away haughtily when she met them casually, so that they might know that “she was more noble in her thoughts and feelings and did not harbor malice,” and might see that she was not accustomed to her way of living. She had proposed to make this clear to them at dinner with allusions to her late father’s governorship, and also at the same time to hint that it was extremely stupid of them to turn away on meeting her. The fat colonel-major (he was really a discharged officer of low rank) was also absent, but it appeared that he had “not been himself ” for the last two days. The party consisted of the Pole, a wretched looking clerk with a spotty face and a greasy coat, who had not a word to say for himself and smelt abominably, and a deaf and almost blind old man who had once been in the post office and who had been maintained by someone at Amalia Ivanovna’s for as long as anyone could remember. A retired clerk of the commissariat department came, too; he was drunk, had a loud and extremely indecent laugh and, just imagine—he came without a waistcoat! One of the visitors sat straight down at the table without even greeting Katerina Ivanovna. Finally, one person with no suit on appeared in his dressing gown, but this was too much, and the efforts of Amalia Ivanovna and the Pole succeeded in removing him. The Pole brought with him, however, two other Poles who did not live at Amalia Ivanovna’s and whom no-one had seen here before. All this irritated Katerina Ivanovna intensely. “For whom had they made all these preparations then?” To make room for the visitors the children had not even had places laid for them at the table; but the two little ones were sitting on a bench in the furthest corner with their dinner laid on a box, while Polenka, as the biggest girl, had to look after them, feed them, and keep their noses wiped like well-bred children’s. Katerina Ivanovna, in fact, could hardly help meeting her guests with increased dignity, and even arrogance. She stared at some of them with particular severity, and loftily invited them to take their seats. Rushing to the conclusion that Amalia Ivanovna must be responsible for those who were absent, she began treating her with extreme indifference, which the latter promptly observed and resented. Such a beginning was not a good omen for the end. All were seated at last.","He gave us also the Example of the Philosopher, who, when he thought most seriously to have withdrawn himself unto a solitary Privacy; far from the rusling clutterments of the tumultuous and confused World, the better to improve his Theory, to contrive, comment and ratiocinate, was, notwithstanding his uttermost endeavours to free himself from all untoward noises, surrounded and environ’d about so with the barking of Currs, bawling of Mastiffs, bleating of Sheep, prating of Parrets, tatling of Jackdaws, grunting of Swine, girning of Boars, yelping of Foxes, mewing of Cats, cheeping of Mice, squeaking of Weasils, croaking of Frogs, crowing of Cocks, kekling of Hens, calling of Partridges, chanting of Swans, chattering of Jays, peeping of Chickens, singing of Larks, creaking of Geese, chirping of Swallows, clucking of Moorfowls, cucking of Cuckows, bumbling of Bees, rammage of Hawks, chirming of Linots, croaking of Ravens, screeching of Owls, whicking of Pigs, gushing of Hogs, curring of Pigeons, grumbling of Cushet-doves, howling of Panthers, curkling of Quails, chirping of Sparrows, crackling of Crows, nuzzing of Camels, wheening of Whelps, buzzing of Dromedaries, mumbling of Rabets, cricking of Ferrets, humming of Wasps, mioling of Tygers, bruzzing of Bears, sussing of Kitnings, clamring of Scarfes, whimpring of Fullmarts, boing of Buffalos, warbling of Nightingales, quavering of Meavises, drintling of Turkies, coniating of Storks, frantling of Peacocks, clattering of Magpyes, murmuring of Stock-doves, crouting of Cormorants, cigling of Locusts, charming of Beagles, gnarring of Puppies, snarling of Messens, rantling of Rats, guerieting of Apes, snuttering of Monkies, pioling of Pelicanes, quecking of Ducks, yelling of Wolves, roaring of Lions, neighing of Horses, crying of Elephants, hissing of Serpents, and wailing of Turtles, that he was much more troubled, than if he had been in the middle of the Crowd at the Fair of Fontenoy or Niort. Just so it is with those who are tormented with the grievous pangs of Hunger; the Stomach begins to gnaw, (and bark as it were) the Eyes to look dim, and the Veins, by greedily sucking some Refection to themselves from the proper Substance of all the Members of a Fleshy Consistence: violently pull down and draw back that vagrant roaming Spirit, careless and neglecting of his Nurse and natural Host, which is the Body. As when a Hawk upon the Fist, willing to take her Flight by a soaring aloft into the open spacious Air, is on a sudden drawn back by a Leash tied to her Feet. To this purpose also did he alledge unto us the Authority of Homer, the Father of all Philosophy, who said, that the Grecians did not put an end to their mournful mood for the Death of Patroclus, the most intimate Friend of Achilles, till Hunger in a rage declared her self, and their Bellies protested to furnish no more Tears unto their Grief.",0,0.44302806,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 40 If we try to talk to him, he will probably deny it, and further argument may well lead to actual combat. Let’s pull ourselves together and not alarm those monks. In the event of a fight, how do you suppose the two of us could stand up to the four of them? There’s no one else here; it has to be that fellow with a hairy face and a thundergod beak who used magic unseen to ruin our treasure. Then Bright Moon said, “Elder Brother, stop hollering!","A huge farewell party—with banners, streamers, and drums—gathered to send the pilgrims off; the locals followed them for about thirty miles before regretfully letting them go. After watching the pilgrims disappear into the horizon, they tearfully returned to their homes. “Well,” Tripitaka said to Monkey as they walked along, “this time you’ve really outdone yourself in compassion. What you did there was even more impressive than in Bhikku.” “At Bhikku,” Sandy chimed in, “you saved 1,111 little boys.",1,0.66714764,1
+"lexical = 80, order = 40 Your latest actions and letters have frightened, shocked and amazed me; however, the things Fedora has told me have explained everything. But why did you despair in this fashion and fall into the abyss into which you have fallen, Makar Alekseyevich? Your explanations have not satisfied me one little bit. Consider: was I not right when I insisted on accepting the advantageous post I was offered? What is more, my most recent adventure has frightened me in earnest. You say your love for me has compelled you to keep yourself in hiding from me. I was already able to see that I was greatly indebted to you when you kept assuring me that you were only spending your savings on me, savings you told me you had put by just in case. But now that I have discovered you had no such savings at all, that having found out about my straitened circumstances and having been touched by them you decided to spend your salary, which you had drawn in advance, and had even sold your clothes when I was ill – now, faced with the revelation of all this, I find myself in such an agonizingly difficult position that I still do not know how to construe all this, or what to think of it. Oh, Makar Alekseyevich! You should have rested content with the first of your good deeds towards me, which were prompted by compassion and familial affection, and not have squandered money on unnecessary things. You have betrayed our friendship, Makar Alekseyevich, because you have not been frank with me, and now, when I see that you spent the very last money you had on smart clothes, on sweets, on walks, on the theatre and on books – now I am paying dearly with remorse for my unforgivable frivolity (for I accepted all those things from you without troubling myself about you); and everything by means of which you wanted to give me enjoyment has now turned into bitterness for me, and has left in me nothing but a futile remorse. I have observed your despondency of late, and although I myself had a depressing sense that something was afoot, I never dreamed of this. How can it be? How could you let yourself sink to this depth of despondency, Makar Alekseyevich? What will people think of you, what will people say about you now, all those who know you? You, whom I and everyone else respected for your kindheartedness, your modesty and wisdom – you have fallen prey to a repulsive vice which no one has ever noticed in you before. What do you think I felt when Fedora told me you had been found drunk in the street and had been taken back to your lodgings by the police? I was paralysed with amazement, even though I had been expecting something untoward, as you had been missing for four days. Have you thought, Makar Alekseyevich, of what your superiors will say when they discover the true reason for your absence? You say that everyone is laughing at you; that everyone has found out about our friendship and that your neighbours are making sarcastic remarks about me. Please do not pay any attention to this, Makar Alekseyevich, and, for the love of God, take a hold of yourself. I am also frightened by this encounter you had with those officers; I have heard vague rumours about it. Please will you explain to me what that is all about? You say in your letter that you were afraid to be open with me, that you were afraid that if you told me about it you would lose my friendship, that you were in despair about what to do in order to help me in my illness, that you sold everything in order to support me and keep me from going into hospital, that you got yourself into debt to the very limit of your credit, and that every day you have unpleasant scenes with your landlady – but I must tell you that, in doing so, you have chosen the wrong course of action. Now, however, I have learned all. You were too ashamed to make me realize that I was the cause of your unhappy position, yet now, by your behaviour, you have succeeded in bringing me twice as much woe. All this has shocked me, Makar Alekseyevich. Oh, my friend! Unhappiness is an infectious disease. Poor and unhappy people ought to steer clear of one another, so as not to catch a greater degree of infection. I have brought you unhappiness such as you never experienced earlier in the modest and isolated existence you have led. All this is tormenting me and making me waste away with grief.","Look into any family: relatives, not relatives and not housekeepers; if they don’t live, they go every day to drink coffee, dine ... How can such a boarding house be fed with three hundred souls?",0,0.4416128,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 40 Poor soul, doubtless she was striving to please her husband’s mother, thought Kristin, hiding a smile. And when we parted, it was as if at once the secret stood between us, - [23] the secret which, however, is in life, behind life and around it. ","At last they found an old brown kirtle which Jofrid thought would do, if she cut it short below and put patches under the arms and on the elbows. Naught would serve but",1,0.6675812,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 So what is wrong with the fact that I earn my living by copying? Is copying a sin? ‘ He just copies documents,’ they say. ‘That rat of a government clerk makes his living by copying!’ Yet what is dishonourable about it? My handwriting is clear, well-formed and pleasant to look at, and His Excellency is satisfied with it; I copy his most important documents for him. Of course, I have no literary style, I mean, I know I have none , curse it; that is why I have not succeeded in rising in the service, and why even now, my darling, I write to you in this plain manner, with no frills, just as the thoughts come into my heart… All this I know; and indeed, if everyone were to start being an author, who would do the copying?","He writes well, he writes very, very, very well. I do not agree with you, and there is no way in which I can agree with you.",0,0.4412516,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 It so happened that Ivan Fyodorovich suddenly went out and, having only gone about ten paces along the corridor, suddenly felt that Smerdyakov's last phrase contained some kind of offensive meaning. He was about to return, but it only flashed, and, saying: ""Nonsense!"" - he quickly left the hospital. Most importantly, he felt that he was really reassured, and precisely by the circumstance that it was not Smerdyakov who was guilty, but his brother Mitya, although it would seem that he should have come out opposite. Why it was so - he did not want to disassemble then, he even felt disgust to delve into his sensations. He wanted to forget something as soon as possible. Then, in the next few days, he was already completely convinced of Mitya's guilt, when he familiarized himself more closely and thoroughly with all the depressing evidence. There were testimonies from the most insignificant people, but almost amazing, for example Feni and her mother. There was nothing to say about Perkhotin, about the tavern, about the Plotnikovs' shop, about the witnesses in Mokry. Most importantly, the details were depressing. The news of the secret “knocking” struck the investigator and the prosecutor almost as much as Gregory's testimony about the open door. Grigory's wife, Marfa Ignatievna, at Ivan Fyodorovich's request, bluntly told him that Smerdyakov had been lying all night with them behind the partition, “there weren’t three steps from our bed,” and that although she herself was fast asleep, she woke up many times, hearing as he groans here: ""He moaned all the time, moaned incessantly."" After talking with Herzenstube and telling him that he doubted that Smerdyakov did not seem crazy to him at all, but only weak, he only caused the old man to smile. “Do you know what he is doing especially now? - he asked Ivan Fyodorovich, - he teaches French vocables by heart; he has a notebook under his pillow and someone has written down French words in Russian letters, heh heh heh! "" Ivan Fedorovich finally left all doubts. He could not even think of brother Dmitry without disgust. One thing was all the same strange: that Alyosha stubbornly continued to stand on the fact that it was not Dmitry who killed, but ""in all probability"" Smerdyakov. Ivan always felt that Alyosha's opinion was high for him, and therefore now he was very perplexed at him. It was also strange that Alyosha did not seek conversations with him about Mitya and never began himself, but only answered Ivan's questions. This, too, was strongly noticed by Ivan Fyodorovich. However, at that time he was very much entertained by one completely extraneous circumstance: having arrived from Moscow, in the very first days he completely and irrevocably surrendered to his fiery and insane passion for Katerina Ivanovna. This is not the place to begin about this new passion of Ivan Fyodorovich, which was then reflected in his whole life: all this could serve as the outline of a different story, another novel, which I don’t know if I’ll ever undertake it again. But still I cannot remain silent now that when Ivan Fyodorovich, walking, as I have already described, at night with Alyosha from Katerina Ivanovna, said to him: “I’m not a hunter before her,” he was terribly lying at that moment : he was madly in love with her, although it is true that at times he hated her to the point that he could even kill. Here many reasons converged: all shocked by the event with Mitya, she rushed to Ivan Fedorovich, who had returned to her again, as if to some kind of her savior. She was offended, offended, humiliated in her feelings. And then again a man appeared who had loved her so much before — At the same time she was ceaselessly tormented by remorse at having betrayed Mitya, and in terrible, quarrelsome moments with Ivan (and they were many) she would tell this to him straight out. Enough be it to say that he had ceaselessly begun to ask himself: why, that last night in Fyodor Pavlovich’s house before his departure, had he gone out on the staircase like a thief and listened to what his father was doing downstairs? And yet, two weeks later, after his first visit to him, there had again begun to torment him the same strange thoughts as before. oh, she knew it all too well, and whose mind and heart she always placed so far above herself. This it was that he had, in talking to Alyosha, called ‘lies upon lies’. In a word, he had for a time almost forgotten about Smerdyakov. There was, of course, contained in it a good deal of falsehood, and this above all was what Ivan Fyodorovich had found so vexing … but of all this later. But the stern girl had not given herself up entirely in sacrifice, in spite of all the Karamazovian lack of restraint in the desires of her beloved and in spite of all the charm he exercised over her. Why did I recall this with disgust later , why the next morning on the road I suddenly felt so depressed, and when entering Moscow, I said to myself: ""I am a scoundrel!"" And now he once thought that because of all these painful thoughts he was, perhaps, ready to forget even Katerina Ivanovna, before they suddenly took possession of him again! Just thinking this, he met Alyosha on the street. He immediately stopped him and suddenly asked him a question:","oh, she knew it too much — and whose mind and heart she had always placed so high above her. But the strict girl did not sacrifice herself all, despite all the Karamazian unrestrained desires of her lover and all his charm on her. At the same time, she was incessantly tormented by repentance that she had betrayed Mitya, and in the terrible, quarrelsome moments with Ivan (and there were many of them) she directly expressed this to him. This is what he called, speaking to Alyosha, ""a lie on a lie."" Here, of course, there were indeed many lies, and this irritated Ivan Fyodorovich most of all ... but all this later. In a word, he almost forgot about Smerdyakov for a while. And yet, two weeks after the first visit to him, all the same strange thoughts began to torment him again, as before. Suffice it to say that he constantly began to ask himself: why did he then, on his last night, in Fyodor Pavlovich's house, before his departure, go downstairs quietly like a thief and listen to what his father was doing below?",1,0.6677979,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 The doctor knows that this expression isn’t appropriate here, but he has assumed it once and for all It is; it’s the doctor, fresh, bright, plump, cheerful, his expression saying, “You’ve gotten frightened of something there but now we’ll fix all that for you.” An hour, a couple of hours would go by like that. But now there’s a bell in the hall. Maybe it’s the doctor.","I will not do it now from this mystery. You see, gentlemen, I understand that in this case, the evidence is terrible: I told everyone that I would kill him, and suddenly he was killed: how could I not in that case? Ha ha! I excuse you, gentlemen, I am quite sorry. After all, I myself am amazed to the epidermis, because who killed him, finally, in this case, if not me? Isn't that so?",0,0.4410259,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 20 Pigsy bolted up. “What time is it?” “Time to get up! Tripitaka says we should forget about food and just find somewhere to sleep.” A bleary Pigsy made his way back into the forest with Sandy. There, of course, they discovered that Tripitaka had disappeared. “It’s all your fault for not coming back sooner with something to eat,” complained Sandy. “I’ll bet you a basket of scriptures Tripitaka’s been kidnapped by a monster.” “A monster in a forest?” scoffed Pigsy. “Ridiculous. He must have gone sightseeing. We’ll find him soon enough.” The two of them scooped up the luggage and the horse, and made their way out of the woods in search of Tripitaka. It just so happened that Tripitaka was not yet destined to be dinner, for the two disciples soon spotted the pagoda’s golden light. “Scrumptious news!” exclaimed Pigsy. “Tripitaka is doubtless inside that pagoda right now, stuffing his face. Let’s go before Tripitaka finishes it all off!” “We don’t know what sort of a place this is,” cautioned Sandy. Sanzang tumbled out of the saddle in a panic, and worshipped the heavens, saying, “My eyes of flesh and my mortal body prevented me from recognizing you, noble gods; forgive me, I beg you. He went over and tugged at the Tang Priest. “Master,” he said, “get up. Look at him, kowtowing to the sky more often than you could count. The Great Sage Sun Wukong, the Handsome Monkey King, was standing by the path overcome with laughter and beside himself with amusement. Please convey my gratitude to the Bodhisattva for her mercy.” As Sanzang was on the point of clasping his hands together to take his leave of him, the old man disappeared, and on turning round to look at the temple, the monk could see nothing but a stretch of empty land. He heard a voice saying in the sky, “Holy monk, we have been very abrupt with you. You two are now to make for the West as fast as you can, and not to slacken your pace for a moment.” We are the mountain god and the local deity of Potaraka Island, and we were sent by the Bodhisattva Guanyin to give you the saddle and bridle. he bellowed, lifting his rake above his head. The goblin on sentry duty ran to report to the monster king: “Two monks at the door. One with big ears and a snout, the other with the most miserable face I’ve ever seen.” “Aha!” chortled the monster. “As expected, our main course’s disciples—also known as starter and dessert. Let’s give them a warm welcome.","For him words took away the beauty of what he saw. He agreed with his brother, but involuntarily began thinking of other things. When they reached the other side of the wood, all his attention was absorbed by the sight of a fallow field on a hillock, in some places yellow with grass, in others trodden down and cut criss-cross or dotted with heaps, or even ploughed under.",0,0.44058114,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 “Splendid, excellent,” Peeperkorn cried, and stood erect again. He unclasped his hands and spread them wide and high before him, palms outward—it looked like a heathen prayer. His majestic physiognomy, but now imprinted with Gothic anguish, blossomed once more in pagan jollity. Even a sybaritic dimple appeared in his cheek. “The hour is at hand,” said he, and sent for the wine-card. He put on a horn-rimmed pince-nez, the nose-piece of which rode high up on his forehead, and ordered champagne, three bottles of Mumm & Co., Cordon rouge, extra dry, with petits fours, toothsome cone-shaped little dainties in lace frills, covered with coloured frosting and filled with chocolate and pistache cream. Frau Stöhr licked her fingers after them. Herr Albin nonchalantly removed the wire from the first bottle, and let the mushroomshaped cork pop to the ceiling; elegantly he conformed to the ritual, holding the neck of the bottle wrapped in a serviette as he poured. The noble foam bedewed the cloth. Every glass rang as the guests saluted, then drank the first one empty at a draught, electrifying their digestive organs with the ice-cold, prickling, perfumed liquid. Every eye sparkled. The game had come to an end, no one troubled to take cards or gains from the table. Society allowed itself to be blissfully idle, exchanging incoherent gossip, the elements of which stemmed from heightened feelings in each individual and had promised the most beautiful things in some primal state, but from which, on the way to communication, a fragmentary, lame-lipped, partly indiscreet one , partly incomprehensible Gallimathias, was apt to arouse the angry embarrassment of every sober entrant, but endured without difficulty by those involved, since all lulled themselves in the same irresponsible state. Even Frau Magnus’s ears were red, and she admitted that she felt “as though life were running through her”— which Herr Magnus seemed not over-pleased to hear. Hermine Kleefeld leaned against Herr Albin’s shoulder as she held her glass to be filled. Peeperkorn conducted the Bacchanalian rout with his long-fingered gestures, and summoned additional supplies: coffee followed the champagne, “Mocha double,” with fresh rounds of “bread,” and pungent liqueurs: apricot brandy, chartreuse, crême de vanille, and maraschino for the ladies. Later there appeared marinated filets of fish, and beer; lastly tea, both Chinese and camomile, for those who had done with champagne and liqueurs and did not care to return to a sound wine, as Mynheer himself did; he, Frau Chauchat, and Hans Castorp working back after midnight to a Swiss red wine. Mynheer Peeperkorn, genuinely thirsty, drank down glass after glass of the simple, effervescent drink.","They gave themselves over to a blissful far niente, enlivened by scraps of conversation in which, out of sheer high spirits, no one hung back. They uttered thoughts that in the thinking had seemed primevally fresh and beautiful, but in the saying somehow turned lame, stammering, indiscreet, a perfect gallimaufry, calculated to arouse the scorn of any sober onlooker. The audience, however, took no offence, all being in much the same irresponsible condition.",1,0.6684475,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 When he got there, he saw Guardian King Li with Nezha on the clouds, high up in the air, scanning all round with his telescopic vision. The Divine Kinsman called out to Guardian King Li and asked, “Have you seen the Monkey King?” “No, I have not, we are here looking for him.” After leaving the camp, he went to your Guanzhou River.” Most mysterious!” The Divine Kinsman then said, “Stay here, brethren, and watch, and I will go up to the sky and look for him.” They were all alarmed and looked round in all directions and still they found no trace of him. The Divine Kinsman then told the story of all the magic changes of the Monkey, until he changed himself into a temple and then disappeared completely. When Guardian King Li heard this, he peered around with his telescopic eyes and then he smiled and said, “Go at once, go at once, the Monkey has used the magic of making himself invisible. Most mysterious! The Divine Kinsman looked for him all round, but only saw the Four Governors and the Two Commanders-in-chief rushing towards him and eagerly saying, “Have you caught the Great Sage?” The Divine Kinsman laughed and said, “The Monkey had just changed himself into a temple and thought he would tempt me to go in, but when I was about to break through his door and windows, he got away and disappeared altogether, leaving no trace behind him. Erlang heard that, he took Shenfeng and went back to Guanjiangkou.","The real monarch rushed back and forth, only to see the fourth captain and the second general swarming together and saying, ""Brother, have you taken hold of the great sage?"" Just as he was about to smash his window sills and kick his door leaf, he swung vertically and disappeared without a trace. It's weird! It's weird! "" Everyone was stunned and looked around even more invisible. The true monarch said: ""Brothers are guarding and patrolling here, waiting for me to go up to find him."" Seeing that Li Tianwang Gao Qing was looking at the demon mirror, and he was standing on the cloud with Nezha, the real monarch said: ""Tianwang, have you ever seen that monkey king?"" Changes, magic powers, and the group of monkeys were finished, but he said: ""He turned into a temple, he was fighting, and he left."" Li Tianwang heard the words, and took a picture of the demon mirror in all directions, hehe said with a smile: ""True Monarch, Hurry up! Hurry up! The monkey used a stealth technique, walked out of the camp, and went to your Guanjiangkou.""",1,0.6684475,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 It was like a boundless sea that seemed to swell and stretch with every day that passed, rippling in the faintest breeze, and in the evening it surprised him sometimes as if he could distinguish the new growth it had achieved even since morning. By June the corn was already high, a bluish green against the blacker green of the beet. Along the canal the poplars sprouted leaves like plumes.","But when it comes to turnover, it is important to trade at a profit. Tolstoj sells at a staggering loss. There were two friends who once made a bet: one put twelve shillings on him to shoot a nut out of the other's hand at a distance of twenty steps without damaging the hand. Well, he shot, shot dirt, shot his whole hand to shreds, and that with brilliance. Then the other moaned and shouted with his last strength: you lost the bet, hit with the twelve shillings! And then he got the twelve shillings. Hehe, here with the twelve shillings, he said! …. God help me where Tolstoy struggles to dehydrate and dehydrate people's happy sources of life and make the world very thick with love for God and everyone.",0,0.4401534,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 All Gregor’s entreaties were in vain, nor were they even understood, for as submissively as he might swivel his head, his father only stamped his feet all the more ferociously. But Gregor had no time for his parents now; the general manager was already on the stairs; his chin propped on the banister, he looked back on the scene one last time. Gregor was just preparing to dash after him to be sure of catching up with him; but the manager must have sensed something, for he leapt down several steps at once and vanished; and the cry of horror he gave as he fled resounded through the stairwell. Unfortunately the manager’s flight now appeared to utterly discombobulate Gregor’s father, who up till then had been relatively composed, for instead of running after the manager himself or at least not hindering Gregor in his own pursuit, he seized the manager’s walking stick in one hand—it had been left lying on an armchair along with his overcoat and hat—with the other took up a large newspaper from the table, and set about driving Gregor back into his room with a great stamping of feet, brandishing both newspaper and stick.","Winter is a stupid; it wastes its merchandise, it loses its labor, it can’t wet us, and that makes it kick up a row, old water-carrier that it is.”",0,0.4400481,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 These were under way in front of the built-in unit where the director had been standing as they came in. They could hardly be confined to their office, they tried to escape through other outlets: there were explosions like pistol-shots, blue sparks on the measuring apparatus; long lightnings crackled along the walls. Joachim had taken his place on a sort of shoemaker’s bench, in front of a board, which he embraced with his arms and pressed his breast against it, while the assistant improved the position, massaging his back with kneading motions, and putting his arms further forward. Now, for the space of two seconds, fearful powers were in play—streams of thousands, of a hundred thousand of volts, Hans Castorp seemed to recall—which were necessary to pierce through solid matter. Joachim’s rounded back expanded and so remained; the assistant, at the switch-board, pulled the handle. Then he went behind the camera, and stood just as a photographer would, legs apart and stooped over, to look inside. He expressed his satisfaction and, going back to Joachim, warned him to draw in his breath and hold it until all was over. Somewhere a red light blinked, like a silent, threatening eye, and a vial behind Joachim’s back was filled with a green glow. Then everything calmed down; the spectacle of lights vanished, and Joachim expelled his breath with a sigh. It was over.","Joachim had sat down on a kind of cobbler’s bench, facing a panel, against which he now pressed his chest, hugging it at the same time with both arms. The assistant helped Joachim improve his position, pushing his shoulders farther forward and massaging his back in a series of kneading motions. He now moved behind the camera, and like a photographer, legs spread wide, bent forward to check the angle; he expressed his satisfaction, and stepping to one side he told Joachim to take a deep breath and hold it until everything was over. Joachim’s back expanded and stayed that way. At the same moment, the assistant flipped the appropriate switches. For two seconds the dreadful forces necessary to penetrate matter were let loose—a current of thousands of volts, one hundred thousand, Hans Castorp thought he had heard somewhere. Barely tamed for their purpose, these forces sought other outlets for their energy. Discharges exploded like gunshots. The gauges sizzled with blue light. Long sparks crackled along the wall.",1,0.6688803,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 'Elegant!' ""Very smart,"" Tony said, looking at it with her head on one side. The Frau Consul looked at it too, but without seeing it, for she was in deep thought.",I needed it.,1,0.6688803,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 Yuan Shao also sent an envoy. The table asked all the advisors: ""Yuan Benchu sent envoys here again, and Cao Mengde sent Mi Heng here again, what should I do?"" Also. If it is not the case, I will choose the good ones to follow. Now that Cao Cao is good at using troops, and there are many wise men, he will definitely take Yuan Shao first, and then move his troops to Jiangdong, fearing that the general will not be able to defend; Treat the general very seriously.” Biao said: “You will go to Xudu, observe its movements, and then have a discussion.” Song said: “The ruler and the minister each have their own set points. Song is a general today, although he is going through fire and water, he is only ordered. If the general is If you can go up to the Son of Heaven and go down to Duke Cao, make Song Ke; if you are in doubt and undecided, Song goes to the capital, and the Son of Heaven bestows Song an official, then Song will be a minister of the Son of Heaven, and will no longer be a general.” The table said, “You Let's go and watch it first. I have no idea."" Song said, and went to Xudu to see the drill. Cao then worshipped Song as his attendant and led Lingling Prefect. Xun Yu said: ""Han Song came to observe the movement and still, but he did not perform any small work, so he added this position again. Mi Heng has no sound, and the prime minister sent him without asking. Why?"" Ask again?"" He then sent Han Song back to Jingzhou to speak to Liu Biao. Song returned to see Biao, praised the court's virtue, and persuaded Biao to invite his son to serve. Biao was furious and said, ""You have two hearts!"" He wanted to kill him. Song shouted, ""The general has lost Song, and Song has not lost the general!"" Kuai Liang remarked, “Han Song had foretold this possibility before he left; it is only what he expected.” Liu Biao then pardoned him.","Kuailiang said, ""Before Song left, I said this first.""",1,0.6693127,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 80 The old man took out a whip from his sleeve, but it was Pi Ding'er's fragrant vine handle, the tip of which was tied with tiger tendons, and he handed it over by the roadside and said, ""Holy monk, I still have a whip.","It just so happened that Tripitaka was not yet destined to be dinner, for the two disciples soon spotted the pagoda’s golden light. “Scrumptious news!” exclaimed Pigsy.",1,0.6693127,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 How did she listen to you... ",How am I different from anyone else?”,0,0.4395669,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 One evening later, as K. passed the corridor that separates his office from the main staircase - this time he was almost the last to go home, only two servants were still working on the expedition in the small field of light from an incandescent lamp - he heard something behind a door , behind which he had always assumed only a lumber room, without ever having seen it himself, sigh. He stopped in astonishment and listened again to see if he wasn't mistaken - there was silence for a while, but then it was sighs again. - First he wanted to fetch one of the servants, one could perhaps use a witness, but then such indomitable curiosity seized him that he literally yanked open the door. It was, as he had correctly guessed, a lumber room. Unusable, old printed matter, overturned empty earthenware ink bottles lay behind the threshold. But in the chamber itself stood three men, crouched in the low space. A candle fixed on a shelf gave them light. ""What are you doing here?"" asked K., rushing with excitement, but not loudly. The one man who seemed to dominate the others and who drew attention to himself first, was dressed in some sort of dark leather outfit that left his neck deep to his chest and his entire arm bare. He didn't answer. But the other two cried, 'Lord! We are to be beaten because you complained about us to the examining magistrate.” And only then did K. realize that it really was the guards Franz and Willem, and that the third had a rod in his hand to beat them. ' Well,' said K., staring at her, 'I didn't complain, I just said what happened in my apartment. And you didn't behave impeccably."" ""Sir,"" said Willem, while Franz behind him was obviously trying to secure himself from the third, ""if you knew how badly we're paid, you'd judge us better. I have a family to support, and Franz here wanted to get married, people try to enrich themselves as much as they can, it doesn't work through mere work, even the most strenuous ones. I was tempted by your fine linen, of course the guards are forbidden to act like that, it was wrong, but it's tradition that the linen belongs to the guards, it's always been like that, believe me; it's also understandable, what do such things mean for someone who is so unfortunate as to be arrested? If he then brings it up publicly, then the punishment must follow."" ""I didn't know what you're saying now, I didn't ask for your punishment either, I was concerned with a principle."" ""Franz,"" Willem turned to other guards, ""Didn't I tell you that the Lord did not require our punishment? Now you hear that he didn't even know that we had to be punished."" ""Don't let such talk move you,"" said the third to K., ""the punishment is just as fair as it is inevitable."" ""Don't listen to him ' said Willem, only stopping to put the hand that had hit him to his mouth, 'we're only being punished because you reported us. Otherwise nothing would have happened to us, even if they found out what we did. Can you call that justice? We two, but especially I, had proved ourselves as watchmen over a long period of time - you must admit that we kept watch well from the point of view of the authorities - we had prospects of making progress and would certainly soon have become thugs like this one, who was just lucky not to have been reported by anyone, because such a report is really very rare. And now, sir, all is lost, our careers over, we shall have to do far more menial work than guard duty, and besides, we are now getting these terribly painful beatings.” “Can the rod cause such pain?” asked K. and checked the rod that the whipper was swinging in front of him. ""We're going to have to strip completely naked,"" Willem said. ""Oh,"" said K. and looked closely at the whipper, he was as tanned as a sailor and had a wild, fresh face. ""Isn't there a way to spare them both the beating?"" he asked him. "" No,"" said the whipper, smiling and shaking his head. "" Undress your clothes!"" he ordered the guards. And to K. he said: 'You don't have to believe everything they say, they've become a bit feeble because they're afraid of being beaten. What this one here, for example"" he pointed at Willem - ""said about his possible career is downright ridiculous. Look how fat he is - the first few strokes of the rod will be lost in the fat at all. – Do you know what made him so fat? He is in the habit of eating breakfast for all those arrested. Didn't he eat your breakfast too? Well I said so. But a man with a stomach like that can never, ever become a flogger, that's completely out of the question.' 'There are floggers like that too,' declared Willem, who was just unbuckling the belt of his pants. "" No,"" said the whipper, stroking his neck with the rod so much that he winced , ""you shouldn't listen, you should undress."" ""I'd reward you well if you let her go,"" said K. and without looking at the thug again - such business is best done with downcast eyes on both sides - pulled out his wallet. “Then you’ll probably report me too,” said the flogger, “and earn me a flogging as well. No, no!"" ""Be sensible,"" said K., ""if I had wanted these two to be punished, I wouldn't want to buy them out now. I could just slam the door here, wanting to see and hear no more, and go home. But I don't do that now , I'm more serious about freeing her; had I known that they should be punished or even could be punished, I would never have mentioned their names. I don't think they're guilty at all, the organization is to blame, the high officials are to blame.' ' That's right!' cried the guards, and they immediately got a smack on their already undressed back. ""If you had a high judge here under your rod,"" said K., and as he spoke he pressed down the rod that was about to rise again, ""I really wouldn't prevent you from striking out, on the contrary, I would give you money so that you can strengthen yourself for the good cause."" ""What you say sounds credible,"" said the whipper, ""but I won't take bribes. I'm employed for beatings, so I'm beating.' The guard Franz, who had perhaps been rather reticent up to now, perhaps expecting a good result from K.'s intervention, now walked to the door, only wearing his trousers, and knelt down to hang on K.'s arm and whispered: ""If you can't get us both to take it easy, at least try to free me. Willem is older than me, less sensitive in every respect, and he received a light beating a few years ago, but I am not yet dishonored and my actions were only brought to my actions by Willem, who is mine for good and ill teacher is. Downstairs in front of the bank my poor bride is waiting for the exit, I'm so ashamed.' He wiped his tear-streaked face with K.'s coat. ""I won't wait any longer,"" said the whipper, grasping the rod with both hands and hacking at Franz, while Willem crouched in a corner and watched secretly, not daring to turn his head. Then the scream that Franz let out rose, undivided and unchangeable, it didn't seem to come from a human being but from a tortured instrument, the whole corridor resounded from him, the whole house must have heard it. "" Don't shout,"" shouted K., he couldn't hold back, and while he was looking tensely in the direction the servants were supposed to be coming from, he bumped into Franz, not hard, but hard enough that the unconscious man fell down and fell spasm searching the ground with his hands; but he did not escape the blows , the rod also found him on the ground; as he rolled beneath her, her tip periodically swung up and down. And already a servant appeared in the distance and a few steps behind him another. K. quickly slammed the door, went to one of the courtyard windows and opened it. The screaming had stopped completely. In order not to let the servants approach, he called out: ""It's me!"" ""Good evening, Herr General Manager!"" she called back. ' Has something happened?' ' No, no,' answered K., 'a dog is just screaming in the yard.' When the servants didn't move after all, he added: 'You can stay on with your work.' To himself not having to engage in conversation with the servants, he leaned out of the window. After a while, when he looked down the corridor again, they were already gone. But K. stayed by the window, he didn't dare go into the lumber room and he didn't want to go home either. It was a small square courtyard that he looked down into, offices were all around it, all the windows were already dark, only the top ones caught a reflection of the moon. K. tried hard to penetrate the dark corner of a courtyard where a few handcarts had bumped into each other. It tormented him that he hadn't been able to stop the beating, but it wasn't his fault that it hadn't worked if Franz hadn't screamed— certainly, it must have hurt a lot, but at a crucial moment you have to control himself – if he hadn't screamed, K. would, at least very likely, have found another way to persuade the bully. If all the lowest officials were rabble, why should the flogger, who held the most inhuman office, should have made an exception? K. had also observed how his eyes lit up when he saw the banknote, he obviously only did the beating therefore taken seriously to increase the bribe a little. And K. wouldn't have skimped, it was really important to him to free the guards; if he had already begun to combat the corruption of this judiciary, it was only natural that he should intervene from this side as well. But the moment Franz started screaming, of course it was all over. K. couldn't allow the servants and perhaps all sorts of other people to come and surprise him in negotiations with the company in the lumber room. No one could really ask K. for this sacrifice. If he had intended to do that, it would almost have been easier if K. would have undressed himself and offered the whipper to replace the guards. Incidentally, the whipper would certainly not have accepted this representation, since he would still have seriously violated his duty without gaining any advantage, and would probably have violated it twice, because as long as he was in the proceedings, K. probably had to represent all the employees of the court be invulnerable. However, special provisions could also apply here. In any case, K. couldn't have done anything but slam the door, although that still didn't remove all danger for K.. The fact that he finally gave Franz a shove was regrettable and could only be excused by his excitement.","Then you probably want to report me too, said the whipper, ""and also get me a beating.",1,0.66974485,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 Full of anxiety he entered her lodging. She was at home. She had returned from seeing Mitya half an hour before, and from the rapid movement with which she leapt up from her chair to meet him he saw that she had been expecting him with great impatience. A pack of cards dealt for a game of ""fools"" lay on the table. A bed had been made up on the leather sofa on the other side and Maximov lay, half-reclining, on it. He wore a dressing-gown and a cotton nightcap, and was evidently ill and weak, though he was smiling blissfully. On returning with Grushenka from Mokroye that day some two months earlier, the homeless old fellow had stayed with her and had been inseparable from her ever since. He arrived with her in rain and sleet, sat down on the sofa, drenched and scared, and gazed mutely at her with a timid, appealing smile. Grushenka, who was in terrible grief and in the first stage of fever, almost forgot his existence in all she had to do the first half-hour after her arrival. Suddenly she chanced to look at him intently: he laughed a pitiful, helpless little laugh. She called Fenya and told her to give him something to eat. All that day he sat in the same place, almost without stirring. When it got dark and the shutters were closed, Fenya asked her mistress:","When the homeless old man returned with Grushenka from Mokroe two months before, he had simply stayed on and was still staying with her.",1,0.66974485,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 This single remark suggested the idea to Madame Wang, and she lost no time in sending for Mrs. Chao to come round. “You bring up,” she berated her, “such a black-hearted offspring like this, and don’t you, after all, advise and reprove him? Lady Feng jumped on to the stone-couch by leaps and bounds. Yet dame Chao should ever correct and admonish him.” Time and again I paid no notice whatever to what happened, and you But while intent upon removing the stuff from Pao-yue’s face, she simultaneously ejaculated: “ Master Tertius, are you still such a trickster! I’ll tell you what, you’ll never turn to any good account! At one time, she issued directions to the servants to rub and wash Pao-yue clean. At another, she heaped abuse upon Chia Huan.","He scolded Jia Huan again. Sister Feng went to the kang in three steps to clean up for Baoyu. She smiled and said, ""The third child is still so flustered. I said you can't get on the high platform. Concubine Zhao should also teach him from time to time. "" I reminded Mrs. Wang, that Mrs. Wang didn't scold Jia Huan, so she called Aunt Zhao to scold: ""You don't care if you raise such a black-hearted and unreasonable seed! I don't care about it after several times, you are proud of it.",1,0.66974485,1
diff --git a/evaluation/tables/latency_comparison.csv b/evaluation/tables/latency_comparison.csv
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..741de9a155492f152781ef8d5665482ea54b29df
--- /dev/null
+++ b/evaluation/tables/latency_comparison.csv
@@ -0,0 +1,5 @@
+Model,ms_per_sample,samples_per_sec,total_batches,total_samples,Params_M
+Main_Hier,0.5217993179726932,1916.4455865623268,20,2560,361.542923
+DeBERTa_single,0.2041170511688506,4899.149748997577,20,2560,184.423682
+RoBERTa_single,0.09236764336009173,10826.301977864025,20,2560,124.64717
+Fusion_NoDis,0.28973708710822166,3451.404892555171,20,2560,309.134594
diff --git a/evaluation/tables/llm_paraphrase_detection_results.csv b/evaluation/tables/llm_paraphrase_detection_results.csv
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..2c151924f6cd8e77ca920dd2ebc61ec35a579eb6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/evaluation/tables/llm_paraphrase_detection_results.csv
@@ -0,0 +1,37 @@
+Evaluator_Model,Generator_LLM,Recall_Detection_Rate,Mean_Confidence
+Main_Hier,Claude Haiku 3.5,1.0,0.9999719858169556
+Main_Hier,Claude Opus,1.0,0.9999507665634155
+Main_Hier,Claude Sonnet 4.5,1.0,0.9999481439590454
+Main_Hier,Gpt 5,1.0,0.999935507774353
+Main_Hier,Grok 4,1.0,0.9999352693557739
+Main_Hier,Llama 4,1.0,0.9999626278877258
+DeBERTa_Single,Claude Haiku 3.5,1.0,0.9999567270278931
+DeBERTa_Single,Claude Opus,1.0,0.9999545812606812
+DeBERTa_Single,Claude Sonnet 4.5,1.0,0.9999490976333618
+DeBERTa_Single,Gpt 5,1.0,0.999960720539093
+DeBERTa_Single,Grok 4,1.0,0.9999508857727051
+DeBERTa_Single,Llama 4,1.0,0.9999526739120483
+RoBERTa_Single,Claude Haiku 3.5,1.0,0.8706628084182739
+RoBERTa_Single,Claude Opus,1.0,0.8086847066879272
+RoBERTa_Single,Claude Sonnet 4.5,1.0,0.7935842275619507
+RoBERTa_Single,Gpt 5,1.0,0.790298581123352
+RoBERTa_Single,Grok 4,1.0,0.8576690554618835
+RoBERTa_Single,Llama 4,1.0,0.8422956466674805
+Fusion_NoDisentangle,Claude Haiku 3.5,1.0,0.9995506405830383
+Fusion_NoDisentangle,Claude Opus,1.0,0.9996359944343567
+Fusion_NoDisentangle,Claude Sonnet 4.5,1.0,0.9996067881584167
+Fusion_NoDisentangle,Gpt 5,1.0,0.9996180534362793
+Fusion_NoDisentangle,Grok 4,1.0,0.9996291995048523
+Fusion_NoDisentangle,Llama 4,1.0,0.9996486902236938
+Ablation_w050_050,Claude Haiku 3.5,1.0,0.9999241828918457
+Ablation_w050_050,Claude Opus,1.0,0.9998364448547363
+Ablation_w050_050,Claude Sonnet 4.5,1.0,0.9998245239257812
+Ablation_w050_050,Gpt 5,1.0,0.9997270703315735
+Ablation_w050_050,Grok 4,1.0,0.9997703433036804
+Ablation_w050_050,Llama 4,1.0,0.999880313873291
+Ablation_no_aux,Claude Haiku 3.5,1.0,0.9999264478683472
+Ablation_no_aux,Claude Opus,1.0,0.9998310208320618
+Ablation_no_aux,Claude Sonnet 4.5,1.0,0.9998253583908081
+Ablation_no_aux,Gpt 5,1.0,0.9996639490127563
+Ablation_no_aux,Grok 4,1.0,0.9997631907463074
+Ablation_no_aux,Llama 4,1.0,0.9998739361763
diff --git a/evaluation/tables/main_metrics.csv b/evaluation/tables/main_metrics.csv
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..e1bb6668608adc555af9814394f50c621d766a3a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/evaluation/tables/main_metrics.csv
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+Model,Split,F1,Accuracy,Precision,Recall,AUC_ROC,AUC_PR,MCC,Brier,Threshold,PosRate,PredPosRate,ECE,F1_aux_lex,F1_aux_syn,F1_aux_sem
+Main_Hier,val,0.9844434883996434,0.9792083333333333,0.9820982048443079,0.9868,0.9976992098437498,0.9988336959906345,0.9531311937410741,0.016322911332254584,0.5544444444444444,0.6666666666666666,0.6698583333333333,0.3190471318293634,0.9843777273520684,0.984332981849719,0.9844664312717564
+Main_Hier,test,0.9845952351253586,0.9794166666666667,0.9825118247448344,0.9866875,0.9978019731250002,0.9988734821827461,0.9536083367983766,0.015926154131562547,0.5544444444444444,0.6666666666666666,0.6695,0.3196304980424112,0.9845543714807725,0.9845746805111821,0.9846499438412579
diff --git a/evaluation/tables/misclassified_examples.csv b/evaluation/tables/misclassified_examples.csv
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..8867b763660dd6fd137fca73b2ee6148c60b47f9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/evaluation/tables/misclassified_examples.csv
@@ -0,0 +1,501 @@
+sentence1,sentence2,label,p,pred
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 Nobody met me. I went into the hallway and opened the front door. An old invalid, sitting on a table, was sewing a blue patch on the elbow of his green uniform. I told him to report me. “Come in, father,” answered the invalid: “our houses.” I entered a clean room, decorated in the old fashioned way. In the corner stood a cupboard with dishes; on the wall hung an officer's diploma behind glass and in a frame; next to it were popular prints representing the capture of Kistrin and Ochakov, as well as the choice of a bride and the burial of a cat. At the window sat an old woman in a padded jacket and with a scarf on her head. She was unwinding the threads, which she held, uncrossed on her hands, a crooked old man in an officer's uniform. ""What do you want, father?"" she asked, continuing her work. I answered that I had come to the service and appeared on my duty to the captain, and with this word I turned to the crooked old man, mistaking him for the commandant; but the hostess interrupted my hardened speech. "" Ivan Kuzmich is not at home,"" she said; - “he went to visit Father Gerasim; it doesn't matter, father, I'm his mistress. Please love and respect. Sit down, father."" She called the girl and told her to call the constable. The old man looked at me with his lonely eye with curiosity. ""I dare to ask,"" he said; - ""In which regiment did you deign to serve?"" I satisfied his curiosity. “But I dare to ask,” he continued, “why did you deign to transfer from the guard to the garrison?” - I answered that such was the will of the authorities. “Really, for the indecent actions of an officer of the guard,” continued the indefatigable questioner. “That’s enough of your chatter,” said the captain’s wife. “You can see the young man’s tired from his journey; let him be. And keep your hands straight! And you, my father, ”she continued, turning to me,“ do not be sad that you have been put into our backwoods. You are not the first, you are not the last. Endure, fall in love. Shvabrin Aleksei Ivanovich has been transferred to us for the fifth year for murder. God knows what sin beguiled him; he, if you please, went out of town with one lieutenant, and they took swords with them, and, well, they stab each other; and Alexey Ivanovich stabbed the lieutenant to death, and even with two witnesses! What are you supposed to do? There is no master for sin.""","- “It’s full of lying trifles,” the captain said to him: “you see, the young man is tired from the road; he is not up to you ... (keep your arms straighter ...)",1,0.00010554686,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 He also kept dreaming up ridiculous quaint names and titles for his acquaintances. Thus, he called Reinert, the deputy, “Bilge,” saying that Bilge was a title. “Mr. Reinert, esteemed Town Bilge,” he said. In the end he began to rave about how high the ceiling might be in Consul Andresen’s apartment. “Seven feet, seven feet!” Three and a half cubits, taken at random; am I not right? But seriously, he was really lying with a fishing rod in his throat , he did not find it, and he was bleeding from it, it hurt a lot…. he shouted again and again. ","he cried again and again. “Seven feet, by a rough estimate. Am I not right?” But seriously, he was really lying there with a fish hook in his throat, he wasn’t making it up, and he was bleeding, it hurt quite a bit....",1,0.00014883847,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 If he had fifty thousand francs, he would perhaps have sailed away to the Marquesas Islands, like that ""Cadet"" whom Mr. Herzen mentions with such cheerful humor in one of his writings. By the number of books found with him, it could be concluded that he was a well-read person. There was no doubt that he had gone mad, at least it turned out that lately he had been noticed in the most impossible oddities. In the district (in the very one in which Pyotr Stepanovich recently feasted) one second lieutenant was verbally reprimanded by his closest commander. He could not bear the reprimand and suddenly rushed at the commander with some kind of unexpected squeal that surprised the whole company, somehow wildly bowing his head; hit and bit him with all his might on the shoulder; could be dragged away. For example, he threw out two images of his master from his apartment and chopped one of them with an ax; in his own room he laid out on stands, in the form of three layers, the works of Vocht, Moleschott and Buchner, and before each layer he lit wax church candles. It happened in front of the whole company. The lieutenant was still a young man, recently from Petersburg, always silent and sullen, important in appearance, although at the same time small, fat and red-cheeked. When they took him, they found a whole bundle of the most desperate leaflets in his pockets and in the apartment.","In one district (the same one in which Pyotr Stepanovich had recently been feasting) a certain sub-lieutenant had been subjected to a verbal reprimand by his immediate commander. This had happened in front of the whole company. The sub-lieutenant was still a young man, recently come from Petersburg, always sullen and taciturn, with an air of importance, but at the same time short, fat, red-cheeked. He could not endure the reprimand and suddenly charged at his commander with some sort of unexpected shriek that astonished the whole company, his head somehow savagely lowered; struck him and bit him on the shoulder as hard as he could; they were barely able to pull him away. There was no doubt that he had lost his mind; in any case it was discovered that he had been noted lately for the most impossible oddities. For example, he had thrown two icons belonging to his landlord out of his apartment, and chopped one of them up with an axe; and in his room he had placed the works of Vogt, Moleschott, and Buchner2 on stands like three lecterns, and before each lectern kept wax church candles burning. From the number of books found in his place it could be concluded that he was a well-read man. If he had had fifty thousand francs, he might have sailed off to the Marquesas Islands like that ""cadet"" mentioned with such merry humor by Mr. Herzen in one of his works.3 When he was taken, a whole bundle of the most desperate tracts was found in his pockets and in his lodgings.",1,0.00019716944,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 But this, however, is inconsistent! it doesn't agree with anything! it is impossible that the officials could scare themselves like that; create such nonsense, so far from the truth, when even a child can see what the matter is! So many readers will say and kill the author in inconsistencies or call the poor officials fools, because a person is generous with the word ""fool"" and is ready to serve them twenty times a day to his neighbor. It is enough to have one stupid party out of ten to be recognized as a fool by nine good ones. It is easy for readers to judge, looking from their quiet corner and top, from where the entire horizon is open to everything that is happening below, where only a close object is visible to a person. And in the world annals of mankind there are many whole centuries, which, it would seem, were crossed out and destroyed as unnecessary. Many errors have taken place in the world, which it would seem that even a child would not do now. What crooked, deaf, narrow, impassable, drifting roads mankind has chosen, striving to reach the eternal truth, while the whole straight path was open before it, similar to the path leading to the magnificent temple appointed by the king to the palaces! Than all other ways is it broader and more splendid, lit up by the sun and illumined all night by lights, yet it is past it, in a profound darkness, that men have streamed. And how oft, already guided by reason that had come down from heaven, have they not contrived, even then, to backslide and to stray off, how oft have they not contrived, even in broad daylight, to come upon impassable wildernesses, how oft have they not contrived to becloud one another’s eyes anew with impenetrable fog and, pursuing will-o’-the-wisps , have contrived in the very end to make their way to the very brink of an abyss, only to ask one another in horror: Where is the way out? Where is the path? The present generation sees everything clearly now; it wonders at the delusions and laughs at the lack of comprehension of its ancestors, not perceiving that this chronicle is written over with heavenly fire, that every letter therein is calling out to it, that from every direction a piercing forefinger is pointed at it, at it and none other than it, the present generation. But the present generation laughs and, self-reliantry, proudly, launches a new succession of delusions, over which its descendants will laugh in their turn, even as the present generation is laughing now. ","It is wider and more luxurious than all other paths, illuminated by the sun and illuminated by lights all night, but people flowed past it in the dead darkness. And how many times already induced by the meaning descending from heaven, they knew how to stagger back and stray to the side, they knew how in broad daylight to fall back into impenetrable backwoods, they knew how to throw a blind fog into each other’s eyes again and, dragging after the marsh lights, they knew how to get to the abyss, then to ask each other with horror: where is the exit, where is the road? Now the current generation sees everything clearly, marvels at the delusions, laughs at the foolishness of its ancestors, it is not in vain that this chronicle is scribbled with heavenly fire, that every letter screams in it, that a piercing finger is directed from everywhere at him, at him, at the current generation; but the current generation laughs and arrogantly, proudly begins a series of new delusions, which will also be laughed at by descendants later.",1,0.00022341634,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 MY DEAREST MAKAR ALEXIEVITCH,—I am in terrible distress.",Listen to what we had.,1,0.00033015275,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 I hasten to tell you, my little life, I have fresh hopes of something. But excuse me, my little daughter, you write, my angel, that I am not to borrow money. My darling, it is impossible to avoid it; here I am in a bad way, and what if anything were suddenly amiss with you! You are frail, you know; so that’s why I say we must borrow. Well, so I will continue.","Why, I could not do without them. Things would go badly with us both if I did so.",1,0.00046552691,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 The morning of the awful scene, pockmarked Semyon, the man to whom Trishatov and his long-legged friend had gone after deserting Lambert, had warned Bjoring about Lambert's plans. He had done so for practical considerations. Lambert had at first convinced him to come in on the deal with him and, after he had got hold of the document, he'd told him about every circumstance and every detail of the operation, including the final stratagem introduced by Versilov to get Mrs. Prutkov out of the way. At the last moment, however, Semyon, being the most practical man of the lot, had decided to pull out of it. He was afraid that it might lead to unpredictably grave consequences, what with the hotheaded and inexperienced Lambert and Versilov maddened by passion. Indeed, he felt it would be much wiser for him to rely on Bjoring's gratitude. All that I learned later from Trishatov, although I still don't quite understand why Lambert had to drag Semyon into the deal in the first place, nor can I make any sense out of the relations between the two of them. The question that preoccupied me much more was why Lambert had gone to Versilov. The answer is clear to me now. First of all, Versilov knew all there was to know about the persons involved and, secondly, in case of trouble, if anything went wrong, Lambert hoped to be able to shift the blame to him. As it turned out, Bjoring didn't get there in time. He arrived a whole; hour after the shot had been fired, and by then Mrs. Prutkov's place; looked quite different. About five minutes after the bleeding Versilov had fallen to the carpet, Lambert, who had been lying in a puddle of his own blood and whom we'd all assumed dead, suddenly stirred, sat up, and scrambled to his feet. He stared around blankly for a while; then, apparently gathering what had happened, he walked out into the kitchen, put on his coat, and vanished. He did not look at the document that was lying there on the table. I vaguely heard that he hadn't been too badly hurt by the blow on the head: he got away with only a slight concussion and some loss of blood. Trishatov had rushed for a doctor, but Versilov came to before the doctor arrived. And even before that, Mrs. Prutkov had succeeded in bringing Katerina back to consciousness and had driven her home. Thus, by the time Bjoring arrived, he found only the wounded Versilov, the doctor, me, and my mother (Trishatov had told her and she'd rushed over although she was still ill). Bjoring looked around in bewilderment and, when told that Mrs. Akhmakov had been taken home, left without saying a word.",But now that is quite clear to me.,1,0.00047285447,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 , there’s a good chap . . .’ Nana immediately turned her attention to la Faloise, who’d been clamouring for the honour of being ruined by her for a long while; this would consecrate him as the smartest man about town; it was a blemish in his career, he needed a woman to launch him. Paris would learn all about him, in a couple of months he’d be reading his name in the papers. However, Nana took only six weeks. La Faloise’s inheritance consisted of property, land, pastures, woods, farms. Even fishing rights, a stone quarry and three mills disappeared. He had to sell all, one after the other, as quickly as he could. Nana passed over them like an invading army or one of those swarms of locusts whose flight scours a whole province. The foliage trembling in the sunshine, the wide fields of ripe grain, the vineyards so golden in September, the tall grass in which the cows stood knee-deep, all passed through her hands as if engulfed by an abyss. At every mouthful Nana swallowed an acre. There was no harm in it all; they were only sweets! The ground was burned up where her little foot had rested. Farm by farm, field by field, she ate up the man's patrimony very prettily and quite inattentively, just as she would have eaten a box of sweet-meats flung into her lap between mealtimes. But one night the only thing left was a tiny area of woodland. She swallowed it scornfully; it was hardly worth opening your mouth for. La Faloise would give an idiotic laugh, sucking the silver knob of his stick. He had crushing debts, his income was less than a hundred francs, he was faced with the prospect of going back to the provinces and living with a crotchety old uncle; but it didn’t matter, he was ‘smart’, his name had twice appeared in the Figaro, and with his scrawny neck sticking out between the points of his turn-down collar, his slouching shoulders covered by a jacket that was too short, he shuffled round screeching like a parrot, putting on a wooden, world-weary air, like a puppet incapable of any real emotion. Nana found him so irritating that in the end she thumped him.","He had to dispose of the lot, one after another. Each acre provided just one mouthful. The leaves quivering in the sunlight, the tall, ripe wheat, the golden September vines, the long meadow-grass in which cows stood munching up to their bellies, everything went, as if swallowed up in an abyss. There was even a river, a cement quarry, and three mills; they all vanished. Nana shot through like a cloud of invading locusts, a devastating fire flattening a whole province. Wherever she set her little foot, there was burnt earth. Farm by farm, meadow after meadow, she gobbled up his inheritance without even noticing, just as she gobbled up a bag of sugared almonds on her lap between meals. It was quite unimportant, just so many lumps of sugar-candy.",1,0.00059766934,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 40 Well, goodbye.","Today I am again unwell, for yesterday I wetted my feet, and took a chill.",1,0.0006462033,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 I just wanted to know if he knew it was because of him that I was dying. This stuttering that entered my room made my thoughts run away.","This time she was feeling better, she looked plump and mature—she wore an arkhalogh1 with dark grey samboosehs, she had plucked her eyebrows, painted on a mole, she had colored her eyebrows, she had applied rouge, white powder, and eyeliner. In short, she had entered my room completely dressed up.",1,0.0006771942,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 Otama remained for a while without moving. was she ashamed or sorry that she was the sort of person they would not sell to? No, it was none of these. Nor indeed was it that she hated Suezō, the man to whom she had given herself and who she now knew was a moneylender, nor did she feel any particular shame or regret that she had given herself to such a man. how dreadful! how dreadful! Did she hate the fish store for not selling her anything, she wondered, or In her mind was only one thought— Then her taut nerves began gradually to relax and tears welled up in her eyes. She pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve to press them back. She had heard from others that moneylenders were nasty, frightening people, hated by everyone. But her father had never borrowed money from one. Even if he doesn't lend me for some reason, my father hasn't been grudged that he can't take the lead just because he's in trouble, so the child is scared of the demon and the policeman is scared. Similarly, even if you are taught the existence of a scary thing called usury, you don't feel any pain. What is regrettable like that?","The ladle is still in the trace. My tension was a little loose, and the tears that were dripping gradually seemed to overflow, so I took out a handkerchief from the skirt and held it down. I can hear a cry of regret and regret in my chest. This is the voice of that chaotic thing. Of course, it's not that we hate that the appetizers don't sell, or that we're sad or sad to know that we don't sell, but we're supposed to leave it to us. It's not that he hates the end-of-life when he finds out that he was a usury, or that it's regrettable or sad to leave himself to such a man. I know that usury is a bad thing, a scary thing, and something that people dislike, but my father has only borrowed money from a pawn shop, and the head of the money is the one he wants to borrow.",1,0.0007672925,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 You, of course, haven’t much to worry you—all you’ve got is one little boy—but in my case, brother, my Praskovia Fedorovna has been endowed by God with such a blessed fertility that not a year passes without her bringing forth either a Praskushka or a Petrushka. But suppose the Devil took to turning up at your elbow day after day, so that, even though you didn’t want to take anything, he persisted in thrusting temptation upon you. To which the other officials would usually remark: “It’s all very well for you to talk, Sprechen Sie Deutsch, Ivan Andreich. There will be three or four of you replacing one another; but it’s thirty years by now, my dear sir, that I’m doing business at the same old stand.” In a case like that, brother, you’d strike up a different tune.” Of course, as is generally the case, there were to be found some courageous spirits who had not lost their presence of mind, but they were far from many—as a matter of fact there was only one: the Postmaster. Your work has to do with the mail, receiving it and dispatching it. All the monkey business you can do is to close the post office an hour earlier, maybe, or accept a little something from a belated merchant for taking a letter outside of regular hours, or you may forward a parcel or two that shouldn’t be forwarded. In a case like that, naturally, any man would be a saint. He alone did not change; his character remained as imperturbable and tranquil as ever. Whenever such occasions as the present arose, it was his wont to remark: “ We know all about you Governors-General!","Of course there were some bold spirits, as there always are, who did not lose their presence of mind; but they were not many; in fact the post master was the only one. He alone was unchanged in his invariable composure, and always when such things happened was in the habit of saying: “We know all about you governor-generals! You may be changed three or four times over, but I have been for thirty years in the same place, my good sir.” To this the other officials usually answered: “It’s all very well for you, Sprechen Sie Deutsch, Ivan Andre itch: the post office is your job—receiving and dispatching the mails; the worst you can do is to close the post office an hour too early if you are in a bad temper, or to accept a late letter from some merchant at the wrong hour, or to send off some parcel which ought not to be sent off—any one would be a saint, of course, in your place. But suppose you had the devil at your elbow every day, so that even what you don’t want to take he thrusts upon you. You have not much to fear, to be sure; you have only one son; while God has been so bountiful to Praskovya Fyodorovna, my boy, that not a year passes but she presents me with a little Praskovya or a little Petrushka; in our place, you’d sing a different tune, my boy.”",1,0.0008040859,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 It is, of course, decently dressed and I am not a poor person; After all, the peasant reform bypassed us: forests and meadows are flooded, income is not lost; but ... I will not go there; I was already tired of it: “It was you who said the truth that I have acquaintances,” Svidrigailov picked up, without answering the main point, “I already met; the third day after all, I wander; I recognize myself, and it seems that they recognize me. That is, how did he compose with us, please tell me! I’ve been walking for the third day and I don’t confess to anyone ... And then there’s the city! City of clerks and all kinds of seminarians! There was a lot here that I didn’t notice eight years or so ago, when I was knocking about here… My only hope now is anatomy, I swear to you!’","‘You’re right, I do have friends here,’ replied Svidrigailov, without answering the main question. ‘I’ve come across some of them—after all, I’ve been hanging about here for over two days. Some people I recognize, and some I think recognize me. Of course I’m wearing decent clothes, and I’m not reckoned a poor man; the peasant reforms* didn’t affect us, we own forests and water meadows, and the income from them carries on. But… I’m not going to see anyone; I was already fed up with them all. This is my third day here, and I haven’t shown myself to anybody… And then, this town! Just look at what it’s turned into, for heaven’s sake! A town of office clerks and seminary students!",1,0.0012065897,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 And now the thing was repeated, and this time the infamy was even worse. Disgusted and sick at heart she returned to her own room, where her horror of the abominable thing she suspected the existence of would not let her sleep: it could have been none other but the Prussian whose voice she heard; she had thought she had noticed glances of intelligence passing; she was prostrated by this supreme disgrace. And there came another sorrow to wring poor Madame Delaherche's heart. Ah, that woman, that abandoned woman, whom her son had insisted on bringing to the house despite her commands and prayers, whom she had forgiven, by her silence, after Captain Beaudoin's death! After General Ducrot's repulse at Champigny, after the loss of Orleans, there was left but one dark, sullen hope: that the soil of France might avenge their defeat, exterminate and swallow up the victors. Let the snow fall thicker and thicker still, let the earth's crust crack and open under the biting frost, that in it the entire German nation might find a grave! One night when her son was from home, having been suddenly called away to Belgium on business, chancing to pass Gilberte's door she heard within a low murmur of voices and smothered laughter. What was she to do?","After the defeat of General Ducrot at Champigny, after the loss of Orléans, there remained only a dark hope, that the land of France would become the avenging land, the exterminating land, devouring the victors. May the snow fall in thicker flakes, may the ground split under the bites of frost, so that the whole of Germany may find her tomb there! And a new anguish gripped Madame Delaherche's heart. One night when her son was away, called to Belgium on business, she had heard, as she passed Gilberte's room, the faint sound of voices, stifled kisses, mingled with laughter. Startled, she had gone home, terrified by the abomination she suspected: it could only be the Prussian who was there, she thought she had already noticed the glances of intelligence, she remained crushed under this last shame. Ah! this woman whom her son had brought, in spite of herself, into the house, this woman of pleasure, whom she had already pardoned once, by not speaking, after the death of Captain Beaudoin! And it started again, and this time it was the worst infamy! What was she going to do?",1,0.0012448432,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 K. did not even look round at him. He now had to get rid of the servant, whose gold button continually caught his eye even if it caught no-one else's. It was already well into the afternoon when K. arrived in front of the bank. They had clearly seen that the second door of the studio had been opened and had gone around to impose themselves on him from this side. As a servant, the servant of the court was going to sit on the coach-box. But K. chased him down from there. “Goodbye, and don't hesitate too long!” Once on the street he took the first cab he came across. “I can't come with you any further!” called out the painter with a laugh as the girls pressed in.","They had evidently seen the other door of the atelier being opened and had made a detour to force their way in from this side. “I can’t accompany you any farther,” said the painter, laughing beneath the press of girls. “Goodbye! And don’t take too long thinking about it!” K. didn’t even look back. On the street he took the first cab that came his way. He was anxious to be rid of the usher, whose gold button kept catching his eye, even though no one else probably noticed it. In his eagerness to serve, the usher even tried to take a seat on the coachbox, but K. chased him down. It was long past noon when K. arrived at the bank.",1,0.0013250223,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 “What’s wrong with me? What sort of mental state have I fallen into again? It was like a dark, shameful reminder of my adolescence. Yes; horror is not the strongest in the things of the night and fear, but when you are staring at us from something everyday, a shop window, an unknown face, the branches of a tree on a bright day ... A more telling and mundane scene is really unimaginable, and yet the whole unspeakable horror of the world has hit my heart. There is obviously nothing special about these people other than that they are shy and extremely stupid Englishmen who have encountered the fact that this is Keats' grave and didn't know what to do with it, maybe because they didn't know who Keats was, maybe they knew but they had no idea what a well-educated Englishman should do over the tomb of Keats, and therefore they were ashamed of themselves before and before me. ","These people were quite clearly nothing other than self-conscious, thoroughly stupid English, confronted by the fact that this was Keats’s grave and not knowing where to begin, perhaps because they had no idea who Keats was. Or perhaps they knew, but couldn’t think how to behave appropriately at the grave of Keats the famous Englishman, and because of this they were embarrassed in front of each other and of me. A more insignificant or banal scene you really couldn’t imagine, and yet I immediately thought of the most unspeakable horror in the world. Yes. Horror isn’t at its most intense in things of night and fear. It’s when you are staring in full sunlight at some mundane thing, a shop window, an unknown face, between the branches of a tree … ”",1,0.0013458604,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 No one knows better than he how to throw the Punjab lasso, for he is the king of stranglers even as he is the prince of conjurors. When he had finished making the little sultana laugh, at the time of the “rosy hours of Mazenderan,” she herself used to ask him to amuse her by giving her a thrill. It was then that he introduced the sport of the Punjab lasso. He had lived in India and acquired an incredible skill in the art of strangulation. He would make them lock him into a courtyard to which they brought a warrior—usually, a man condemned to death—armed with a long pike and broadsword. Erik had only his lasso; and it was always just when the warrior thought that he was going to fell Erik with a tremendous blow that we heard the lasso whistle through the air. With a turn of the wrist, Erik tightened the noose round his adversary’s neck and, in this fashion, dragged him before the little sultana and her women, who sat looking from a window and applauding. The little sultana herself learned to wield the Punjab lasso and killed several of her women and even of the friends who visited her. But I prefer to drop this terrible subject of the rosy hours of Mazenderan. I have mentioned it only to explain why, on arriving with the Vicomte de Chagny in the cellars of the Opera, I was bound to protect my companion against the ever-threatening danger of death by strangling. My pistols could serve no purpose, for Erik was not likely to show himself; but Erik could always strangle us. I didn't have time to explain all this to the viscount and even I don't know if, having had that time, I would have used it to tell him that there was somewhere, in the shadows, a lace. I simply told M. de Chagny to keep his hand at the level of his eyes, with the arm bent, as though waiting for the command to fire. With his victim in this attitude, it is impossible even for the most expert strangler to throw the lasso with advantage. It catches you not only round the neck, but also round the arm or hand. This enables you easily to unloose the lasso, which then becomes harmless.","I had no time to explain all this to the viscount; besides, there was nothing to be gained by complicating the position.",1,0.001477943,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 The general had a flourishing family. True, not all of them were roses, but there were also many things on which His Excellency's main hopes and goals had long since begun to seriously and cordially focus. And what, what goal in life is more important and holier than the goals of parents? What to attach to, if not to the family? The general's family consisted of his wife and three adult daughters. The general married a very long time ago, while still in the rank of lieutenant, to a girl of almost the same age as him, who did not possess either beauty or education, for whom he took only fifty souls - however, and served to the foundation of his further fortune. But the general never grumbled later on his early marriage, never treated it as a hobby of imprudent youth, and respected his wife so much and sometimes feared her so much that he even loved her. The general's wife was from the princely family of the Myshkins, although not a brilliant family, but very ancient, and for her origin she respected herself very much. One of the then influential persons, one of those patrons for whom patronage, however, costs nothing, agreed to take an interest in the marriage of the young princess. He opened the door to future prospects for the young officer and aided his path, although a wink and a nod would have sufficed just as well. With few exceptions, the couple lived through their long jubilee in harmony. Even in her very young years, the general's wife was able to find for herself, as a nee princess and the last of her kind, and perhaps in personal qualities, some very high patronesses. Subsequently, with the wealth and official significance of her husband, she even began to settle down somewhat in this higher circle.","He opened the gate to the young officer and pushed him into the course, and he didn’t even get a push, but only if one glance was necessary - he wouldn’t have been in vain!",1,0.001648483,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 0 They were still arguing when Grandmother Jia sent a servant round to summon him to lunch. He went off to the front apartment, but returned almost immediately after bolting a single bowlful of rice. He found Aroma asleep on the kang and Musk sitting beside her playing Patience with some dominoes. He had long known that Musk was a close ally of Aroma’s, so ignoring them both, he marched past them into the inner room, raising the door-curtain for himself as he passed through. Musk followed him automatically, but he pushed her out: ‘No, no, I wouldn’t presume to trouble you!’ She laughed and went back to her Patience, having first ordered a couple of the younger maids to wait on him in her stead. In the inner room Bao-yu took up a book and reclined on the kang to read. For a considerable while he remained engrossed in his reading. When eventually he did look up, intending to ask someone for some tea, he saw two little maids waiting there in silence, one of whom – evidently the older by a year or two – was an attractive, intelligent-looking girl. He addressed himself to her: ‘Isn’t your name “Nella” something or other?’ ‘Citronella.’ ‘ Citronella? Who on earth gave you that name?’ ‘Aroma, sir. My real name is “Soldandla” , but Miss Aroma altered it to “Citronella” .’ ‘I don’t know why she didn’t call you “Citric Acid” and have done with it,’ said Bao-yu. ‘Citronella! – How many girls are there in your family, Citronella?’ Huixiang said, ""Four."" ‘I’m the youngest.’ ‘Right!’ said Bao-yu. ‘In future you will be called “Number Four”. We’re not going to have any more of these floral fragrances around here. It’s an insult to decent scents and flowers to give their names to you lot!’ Then he asked her to pour him some tea. Listening attentively in the outer room, ‘Flowers’ Aroma and her Musky ally – for whose ears this gibe was intended -were nearly bursting themselves in their efforts not to laugh.","‘Four,’ said Citronella. ‘ And which of the four are you?’",1,0.0016743994,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 There is congelation in despair. In the midst of all this convulsive clamour of the bell mingled with the émeute, the clock of St. Paul’s struck eleven, gravely and without haste, for the tocsin is man; the hour is God. The lamplighter came as usual to light the lamp which hung exactly opposite the door of No. 7, and went away. The tocsin was heard, and vague stormy sounds were heard. There he was, seated upon the block by his door, immovable as a goblin of ice. Jean Valjean, to one who had examined him in that shadow, would not have seemed a living man. The passing of the hour had no effect upon Jean Valjean; Jean Valjean did not stir. However, almost at that very moment, there was a sharp explosion in the direction of the markets, a second followed, more violent still; it was probably that attack on the barricade of the Rue de la Chanvrerie which we have just seen repulsed by Marius.","The lamp-lighter came as usual to light the lantern which was situated precisely opposite the door of No. 7, and then went away. Jean Valjean would not have appeared like a living man to any one who had examined him in that shadow. He sat there on the post of his door, motionless as a form of ice. There is congealment in despair. The alarm bells and a vague and stormy uproar were audible. In the midst of all these convulsions of the bell mingled with the revolt, the clock of Saint-Paul struck eleven, gravely and without haste; for the tocsin is man; the hour is God. The passage of the hour produced no effect on Jean Valjean; Jean Valjean did not stir. Still, at about that moment, a brusque report burst forth in the direction of the Halles, a second yet more violent followed; it was probably that attack on the barricade in the Rue de la Chanvrerie which we have just seen repulsed by Marius.",1,0.001810211,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 After the defeat of General Ducrot at Champigny, after the loss of Orléans, there remained only a dark hope, that the land of France would become the avenging land, the exterminating land, devouring the victors. December had buried the city in snow, the desperate news choking there in the bitter cold. While at meals Edmond, with his pretty face of a wounded Cherub, replied in monosyllables to Delaherche's uninterrupted chatter, blushing as soon as Gilberte begged him to pass the salt, while in the evening M. de Gartlauben, with swooning eyes, seated in the study, listening to a Mozart sonata that the young woman was playing for him at the back of the living room, the neighboring room where Colonel de Vineuil and Madame Delaherche lived remained silent, the shutters closed, the lamp eternally lit, as well as a tomb lit by a candle. May the snow fall in thicker flakes, may the ground split under the bites of frost, so that the whole of Germany may find her tomb there!","Whereas at meal times Edmond, with his pretty face like a wounded cherub, answered Delaherche’s ceaseless prattle in monosyllables and blushed if Gilberte asked him to pass the salt, and in the evenings Captain von Gartlauben sat in the study listening with swimming eyes to a Mozart sonata she was playing for him in the drawing-room, the adjoining room in which Colonel de Vineuil and Madame Delaherche lived was always silent, with closed shutters, lamp eternally burning as though it were a tomb lit by a candle. December had buried the town in snow, and the dreadful news took second place in the intense cold. After the defeat of General Ducrot at Champigny and the loss of Orleans there was only one grim hope left, that the land of France itself would become the avenging land, the exterminating land devouring its own conquerors. Let the snow fall in ever thicker flakes, let the earth split open under blocks of ice and all Germany find its grave therein!",1,0.0019877742,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 I wiped my eyes, since of all José Dias' words, only one remained in my heart; it was that serious. I saw later that he only meant serious, but the use of the superlative makes the mouth long, and, for the sake of the period, José Dias made my sadness grow. If you find in this book any case of the same family, let me know, reader, so that I can amend it in the second edition; There is nothing uglier than giving very long legs to very brief ideas. I wiped my eyes, I repeat, and walked, anxious now to get home, and ask my mother's forgiveness for the bad thought I had. Finally, we arrived, entered, I climbed the six steps of the stairs, trembling, and after a while, leaning over the bed, I heard the tender words of my mother who squeezed my hands a lot, calling me her son. She seemed to be on fire, and her eyes burned in mine; her whole being seemed consumed by a volcano inside her. I knelt at the foot of the bed, but as it was tall, I stayed away from its caresses:","She was burning, her eyes were burning into mine, her whole body seemed to be consumed by an internal volcano.",1,0.0020829707,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 And Joachim, how was he doing? Did he feel liberated, was his mind easier—or did his spirit suffer great privation when he saw one whole side of the table empty? And his uncharacteristic, rebellious impatience, including his threat to carry out a wild departure of his own if they kept on leading him around by the nose—did that have anything to do with Marusya’s being gone? Or was the fact that he wasn't traveling just yet, but listening to the Court Councilor's glorification of the melting snow, due to the fact that the big-breasted Marusja hadn't seriously left, but had only gone away a little, and in five small fractions of the time here would arrive again? Ah, it was probably all true at once, and in equal measure. Hans Castorp could well imagine that was the case, without ever speaking to Joachim. For he refrained from mentioning anything about the matter, just as Joachim avoided the name of someone else who had departed for a while.","Or was the fact that he did not leave, at least for now, and instead lent an ear to the director’s testimonials on the thaw, traceable to full-bosomed Marusya’s not having departed for good, to her certain return after only five of the smallest units of local time?",1,0.0021157034,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 It was only about half an hour after this that we were called to dinner. As I passed Ojosan’s door on my way to the dining room , I saw the ladies’ going-out dresses lying in colorful disarray on the floor. They had apparently hurried home so that they might prepare our dinner. Okusan’s kindness, however, was wasted on us. During the meal, I behaved as though words were too precious a commodity to squander, and I was very brusque with the ladies. K was even more taciturn than I was. The ladies on the other hand, having returned from a rare outing, were unusually gay, which made our gloomy behavior all the more noticeable in contrast. Okusan asked me if anything was wrong. I told her that I was not feeling well. And I was being quite truthful, I assure you. Then Ojosan asked K the same question. she demanded. K. He gave a different reply. He simply said he didn’t feel like talking. Anyone who did not know him would judge that he was lost for an answer. Why not? On a sudden impulse, I raised my reluctant eyes to his face, curious to know how he would respond. K’s lips were trembling in that way he had. Ojosan laughed, and said that he must have been thinking about something very profound. K blushed slightly.","K gave a different answer: he was simply not in a talkative mood, he said. “Why not?” she asked. I lifted my eyes, which felt dull and heavy, and looked at K. I was very curious as to what he would say. Once more, his lips were trembling slightly. To innocent eyes, it must have seemed that he was only having his usual difficulty with words.",1,0.0022518474,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 20 When did you leave, and when you asked me to see you off to the beach, Uranari replied that it wasn't the case, even though it was a lot of work. Uranari came in front of me and asked me to correct the folds of the hakama, so I cramped my pants and gave him a cup. It seems that you are going to make a round of laps by making donations one after another. When Kanzake tokkuri began to come and go frequently, all sides suddenly became lively. It's a pity that we'll come and say goodbye soon. I don't like him. Noda is reluctant to go out in front of the principal and get a cup. It's hard work. Regardless of what he said, though, I was determined to take time off from school and go see him off.","In due course flasks of heated saké started to be passed around one after another, and all over the room the mood promptly took on a livelier tone. The Hanger-on made straight for the Principal’s seat and reverentially accepted a drink from him. What a creep! The Squash went from one guest to the next and exchanged drinks with each of them; apparently he was intending to make his way around the entire room. This was really above and beyond the call of duty. When he came to my place he politely straightened out the pleats of his formal kimono skirt and requested the honor of sharing a cup with me. Painfully I folded my trousered legs into a formal seated position and poured. ‘ What a shame,’ I said, ‘that we have to say goodbye so soon after I’ve arrived. When do you leave? I hope you won’t mind if I go down to the harbor to see you off.’ The Squash answered that I shouldn’t bother, since I was undoubtedly very busy.",1,0.002396731,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 40 Then dress up ordinary folk in armour and have them crowd onto the wall on the northwest side. ‘We can play the same trick on him,’ says Jia Xu. ‘Move your crack troops to the southeast wall and have them hide out of sight, inside houses, down lanes and alleys. asks a troubled Zhang Xiu.","exclaimed the unhappy man. “I know that, but if I do not put you to death there will be a mutiny. After you are gone, your wife and children shall be my care. So you need not grieve on their account.”",1,0.0025114634,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 I see, it doesn't look gorgeous. As you can see, it's a cleanup. It's no wonder that the destination was planned.",Exactly; I have never amounted to much. I am just as you see me; no wonder my future used to cause anxiety to my mother.,1,0.0025509126,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 This ravine had once been the scene of a last struggle of men against the climate, against despair, even against hunger, for, by certain horrible remains, it was understood that the unfortunates had fed on human corpses, perhaps flesh still quivering, and among them the doctor had recognized Shandon, Pen, the wretched crew of the Forward; strength failed, provisions failed these unfortunates; their boat was probably broken by avalanches or thrown into an abyss, and they could not enjoy the open sea; we can also suppose that they got lost in the middle of these unknown continents. Moreover, people who left under the excitement of revolt could not be united for long with that union which makes it possible to accomplish great things. A ringleader of mutineers never has anything but an uncertain power in his hands. And, no doubt, Shandon was quickly overwhelmed.",A rebel leader never has more than a doubtful power in his hands.,1,0.002673006,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 Candide, noting a Milton, asked if he did not consider this author a great man. —Who? said Pococurante. That barbarian who made a long commentary on the first chapter of Genesis in ten books of crabbed verse? That clumsy imitator of the Greeks, who disfigures creation itself, and while Moses represents the eternal being as creating the world with a word, has the messiah take a big compass out of a heavenly cupboard in order to design his work? You expect me to admire the man who spoiled Tasso’s hell and devil? who disguises Lucifer now as a toad, now as a pigmy? who makes him rehash the same arguments a hundred times over? who makes him argue theology? and who, taking seriously Ariosto’s comic story of the invention of firearms, has the devils shooting off cannon in heaven? Neither I nor anyone else in Italy has been able to enjoy these gloomy extravagances.99 The marriage of Sin and Death, and the monster that Sin gives birth to, will nauseate any man whose taste is at all refined; and his long description of a hospital is good only for a gravedigger. This obscure, extravagant, and disgusting poem was despised at its birth; I treat it today as it was treated in its own country by its contemporaries. Anyhow, I say what I think, and care very little whether other people agree with me. Candide was a little cast down by these diatribes; he respected Homer, and had a little affection for Milton. — Alas, he said under his breath to Martin, I’m afraid this man will have a supreme contempt for our German poets. —No harm in that, said Martin. — Oh what a superior man, said Candide, still speaking softly, what a great genius this Pococurante must be! Nothing can please him.","Besides, I say what I think, and I care very little that others think like me.",1,0.0028449094,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 I wanted to say something about these unfortunates on my journey, because the idea of their misery has often distracted me on the way. Sometimes, struck by the difference between their situation and mine, I suddenly stopped my carriage, and my room seemed to me prodigiously embellished. What unnecessary luxury! Six chairs, two tables, a desk, a mirror, what ostentation! My bed especially, my pink and white bed, and my two mattresses, seemed to defy the magnificence and softness of the monarchs of Asia. “These reflections made me indifferent to the pleasures that I had been forbidden; and, from reflection to reflection, my access to philosophy became such that I would have heard the sound of violins and clarinets without moving from my place – I would have heard with my two ears the melodious voice of Marchesini, this voice that so often pissed me off – Nay, more, I could have gazed upon the most beauteous woman in Turin, upon Eugénie herself, adorned from head to foot by the hands of Mademoiselle Rapoux,[4] without emotion. – However, that is not certain.","yes, I would have heard it without flinching; – even more, I would have looked without the slightest emotion at the most beautiful woman in Turin, Eugenie herself, adorned from head to foot by the hands of Mademoiselle Rapous.",1,0.002889581,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 ""My God, how stiff you are! Just walk in front of you like you're going for a walk! Efforts are not necessary at all. I think you even got hot already? Well, let's rest for five minutes! See, dancing, when you can do it, is just as easy as thinking, and it's a lot easier to learn. Perhaps now you won’t get quite so impatient when people are reluctant to learn how to think, but instead call Herr Haller a traitor to his country and are willing to allow the next war to happen without lifting a finger against it.’ ","You will now become less impatient about the fact that people don’t want to get used to thinking, but would rather call Herr Haller a traitor to the country and calmly let the next war come.”",1,0.0029810332,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 Who in that age could be strong enough to refrain from murder? Who didn’t know that the worst was inevitable? Here and there someone whose glance had during the day met the savoring glance of his murderer, would be overwhelmed by a strange foreboding. When his dogs gazed up at him, there was doubt in their eyes, and they grew less assured in responding to his commands. He would withdraw, lock the door behind him, and write his will, concluding with orders for the litter of osier twigs, the Celestine cowl and the strewing of ashes. Foreign minstrels would appear before his castle, and he gave them princely rewards for their song, which dovetailed with his vague premonitions. His motto, which had served for a lifetime, subtly acquired a new and palpable secondary meaning. Many long-established customs appeared antiquated, but there didn’t seem to be any substitutes to take their place. If projects came up, you managed them without really believing in them; on the other hand, certain memories took on an unexpected finality. Evenings, by the fire, you meant to abandon yourself to them.","He would withdraw and shut himself in, would write his will, and at the end would order the litter of willow twigs, the Celestine cowl, and the strewing of ashes. Foreign minstrels appeared in front of his castle, and he gave them princely rewards for their song, which seemed to confirm his vague presentiments. The eyes of the dogs, as they looked up at him, were filled with doubt, and they grew less and less sure of his commands. From the motto that had served him all his life, a secondary meaning quietly emerged.",1,0.0031726828,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 When I got there, I threw myself on Mother’s breast in a terrible state of anguish. I pressed her in my arms as close as I possibly could, kissed her and sobbed violently, anxiously nestling against her as though in my embraces seeking to retain my last friend, and not surrender her to death. Every so often books would fall out of his pockets and land in the mud. Some people stopped and stared in wonder at the poor old man. People would stop and point to them; he would pick them up and then scramble off in pursuit of the coffin once more. At the corner of the street an old beggar woman tagged along after him, keeping him company. But death was already overshadowing poor Mother… At last the cart turned the corner and disappeared from view. I went home. Passers-by would remove their hats and cross themselves.","Passers-by took off their hats and crossed themselves. Others stopped and marveled at the poor old man. Books kept falling out of his pockets into the dirt. They stopped him, showed him the loss; he picked it up and again set off in pursuit of the coffin. At the corner of the street, a beggar old woman tagged along with him to see off the coffin. The cart finally turned the corner and disappeared from my eyes. I'v gone home. I threw myself in terrible anguish on my mother's chest. I squeezed her tightly in my arms, kissed her and wept bitterly, timidly clinging to her, as if trying to keep my last friend in my arms and not give him to death ... But death was already standing over poor mother! ..",1,0.0032224844,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 When they reached Germond, a village where there was a steaming manure-heap before every one of the doors that lined the two sides of the straggling street, the sobbing women came to their thresholds with their little children in their arms, and held them out to the passing troops, as if begging the men to take them with them. Its route was along the Buzancy highway, planted on either side with rows of magnificent poplars. When, in the outstreaming torrent of the three divisions that striped the plain with columns of marching men, the 106th left Boult-aux-Bois in the rear of the cavalry and artillery, the sky was again overspread with a pall of dull leaden clouds that further lowered the spirits of the soldiers. There was not a mouthful of bread to be had in all the hamlet, nor even a potato, After that, the regiment, instead of keeping straight on toward Buzancy, turned to the left and made for Authe, and when the men turned their eyes across the plain and beheld upon the hilltop Belleville, through which they had passed the day before, the fact that they were retracing their steps was impressed more vividly on their consciousness. ","When the 106th followed its cavalry and artillery from Boult-aux-Bois in the great stream of three divisions streaking the plain with marching men, the sky clouded over again with slow-moving, angry clouds that put the finishing touch to the men’s gloom. The 106th itself kept to the main Buzancy road, with its magnificent lines of poplars. At Germont, a village with dunghills steaming outside the doors in a row on each side of the road, women were sobbing and picking up their children in their arms and holding them out to the passing troops as if they wanted them to be taken away. There was nothing left in the village – not a mouthful of bread or even a potato. Then instead of going on towards Buzancy the 106th turned to the left, going up in the direction of Authe, and the men, seeing Belleville once again on the rise at the other side of the plain, which they had been through the day before, knew for a certainty that they were retracing their steps.",1,0.0032224844,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 Figgs. Almond-Butter.","That I shall tell you,’ said the pilot. ‘For their entrées they offer him: caviar, pickled mullet-caviar, fresh butter, pease-pudding, spinach, fresh herrings, soused herrings, sardines, anchovies, marinated tuna, cabbage in olive-oil, buttered beans, hundreds of kinds of salads: of cress, hops, bishop’s-bollocks, rampion, Judas-ears (a variety of fungus growing out from ancient elder-trees), asparagus, woodbine and many others, salted salmon, salted eels, oysters in the shell.",1,0.0033766124,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 40 I took other means in use, spoke sharply and begged for more nonsense. Had it never happened that someone else had paid her money in advance in a similar way? I mean, of course, people who had enough money, for example, some of the consuls? Never? Well, I could not be responsible for the fact that she was unfamiliar with that procedure. It was customary abroad. Maybe she had never been outside the country's borders? No, there you can see! Then she could not comment on this matter at all ... And I reached for more cakes on the table.","Yeah Al that sounds pretty crap to me, Looks like BT aint for me either.",1,0.0036499873,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 I fall suddenly into thought over all this, and am not able to find a solitary speech for my drama. Time upon time I seek in vain; a strange buzzing begins inside my head, and I give it up. I thrust the papers into my pocket, and look up. The girl is sitting straight opposite me. I look at her--look at her narrow back and drooping shoulders, that are not yet fully developed. What business was it of hers to fly at me? Even supposing I did come out of the palace, what then? Did it harm her in any way? She had laughed insolently in the past few days at me, when I was a bit awkward and stumbled on the stairs, or caught fast on a nail and tore my coat. It was not later than yesterday that she gathered up my rough copy, that I had thrown aside in the ante-room--stolen these rejected fragments of my drama, and read them aloud in the room here; made fun of them in every one's hearing, just to amuse herself at my expense. I had never molested her in any way, and could not recall that I had ever asked her to do me a service. On the contrary, I made up my bed on the floor in the ante-room myself, in order not to give her any trouble with it. She made fun of me, too, because my hair fell out. Hair lay and floated about in the basin I washed in the mornings, and she made merry over it. My shoes were in quite bad shape by now, especially the one that had been run over by the baker’s van, and she also made jokes about them. “God bless you and your shoes!” And she was right; they were trodden out. But then I couldn't procure myself any others just at present.","Then my shoes, too, had grown rather shabby of late, particularly the one that had been run over by the bread-van, and she found subject for jesting in them. "" God bless you and your shoes!"" said she, looking at them; ""they are as wide as a dog's house. """,1,0.0039454065,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 “They’re here, in my breast, received at Kars,33 and in bad weather I feel them. In all other respects I live like a philosopher, go about, stroll, play checkers in my café, like a bourgeois retired from business, and read the Indépendence.34 , I go out, take walks, play draughts at my café, like a bourgeois who has retired from practical affairs, and read the Independance.4But with our Porthos, Yepanchin, after the business with the lap-dog on the train three years ago, I have had absolutely nothing further to do.’ ","But since that story of the lapdog on the train three years ago, my relations with our Porthos, Epanchin, have been definitively terminated.”",1,0.004070138,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 “Rattle-pate!” Oh! “Well, speak; who preserved that life of yours which you find so delightful? To whom do you owe it that you still breathe this air, behold that sky, and are still able to amuse your feather-brain with trifles and nonsense? Where would you be now, but for her? Would you have her die, to whom you owe your life,—have her die, that sweet, lovely, adorable creature, necessary to the light of the world, more divine than God himself, while you, half madman and half sage, a mere sketch of something or other, a sort of vegetable growth which fancies that it walks and fancies that it thinks,—you are to go on living with the life of which you have robbed her, as useless as a candle at high noon? Come, have a little pity, Gringoire; be generous in your turn; she set you the example.” The priest was excited.",muttered the archdeacon.,1,0.0047552,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 ‘","The emperor said: The ancestors are so heroic, and the descendants are so cowardly, can't we sigh!"" ""These two people are not Liuhou Zhangliang and Lihou Xiaohe? "" Cheng said: ""Of course. The great ancestors started the business, and it really depends on the strength of the two. "" The emperor looked back from the left and right, and secretly said to Cheng: ""Your Excellency also When these two people stand by my side.""",1,0.0047552,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 “No, listen,” I said. “Imagine you are in an ancient aeroplane. The altimeter shows 5000 meters. A wing breaks; you are dashing down like.... And on the way you calculate: ‘Tomorrow from twelve to two ... from two to six ... and dinner at five!’ Would it not be absurd?” And that's exactly what we are now! ",The little blue flowers began to move and bulge out.,1,0.0048297215,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 Then, turning to Martin: “Who do you think, he said, who is more to be pitied, Emperor Achmet, Emperor Ivan, King Charles Edward, or me? ""I don't know,"" said Martin; I would have to be in your hearts to know it. - Ah! said Candide, if Pangloss were here, he would know and tell us. ""I don't know,"" said Martin, ""with what scales your Pangloss could have weighed the misfortunes of men and assessed their pains. "" All I presume is that there are millions of men on earth a hundred times more to be pitied than King Charles Edward, Emperor Ivan, and Sultan Achmet. ""It might well be,"" said Candide.",All that I pretend to know of the matter,1,0.005060332,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 Back then people did not bother about it, and what was dirty simply stayed dirty, not assuming an attractive appearance. Neither in the corridors nor in the rooms were their eyes struck by cleanliness. Themis received her guests as she was, in négligée and dressing gown. These were: a sentry box, where a soldier with a gun stood, two or three cabstands, and, finally, long fences with well-known fence inscriptions and drawings scrawled on them in charcoal or chalk; there was nothing else to be found on this solitary, or, as we say, beautiful square. With mutual services they finally reached the square where the offices were located: a big three-story stone house, all white as chalk, probably to represent the purity of soul of the functions located within; the other structures on the square did not answer to the hugeness of the stone building. At every little rise, bump, or step, Manilov supported Chichikov and almost lifted him up by the arm, adding with a pleasant smile that he would by no means allow Pavel Ivanovich to hurt his little feet. From the windows of the second and third stories the incorruptible heads of the priests of Themis peeked out and ducked back at the same moment: probably a superior had come into the room just then. The friends did not so much walk as run up the stairs, because Chichikov, trying to elude the supporting arm from Manilov’s side, kept quickening his pace, while Manilov, on his side, rushed ahead, trying to keep Chichikov from tiring himself, with the result that they were both quite breathless as they entered the dark corridor. Chichikov was abashed, not knowing how to thank him, for he was aware that he was a bit on the heavy side.","At every slight rise, or hill, or step, Manilov supported Chichikov and almost lifted him with his hand, adding with a pleasant smile that he would not allow Pavel Ivanovich to bruise his legs in any way. Chichikov felt ashamed, not knowing how to thank him, for he felt that he was somewhat heavy. In mutual services, they finally reached the square where the offices were located: a large three-story stone house, all white as chalk, probably to depict the purity of the souls of the posts located in it; the other buildings on the square did not match the immensity of the stone house. These were: a guardhouse, near which a soldier stood with a gun, two or three cabs and, finally, long fences with famous fence inscriptions and drawings scratched with charcoal and chalk; there was nothing else in this secluded, or, as we say, beautiful square. From the windows of the second and third floors, the incorruptible heads of the priests of Themis protruded and at the same moment hid again: probably at that time the chief entered the room. The friends did not go up, but ran up the stairs, because Chichikov, trying to avoid being held by the arms by Manilov, quickened his pace, and Manilov, on his side, also flew forward, trying not to let Chichikov get tired, and therefore both were very out of breath when they entered into dark corridor. Neither in the corridors nor in the rooms was their gaze struck by cleanliness. They didn't care about her then, and what was dirty remained dirty, not taking on an attractive appearance. Themis just what it is, in a negligee and a dressing gown received guests.",1,0.0051396107,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 He always turns red when you speak to him, gets confused and does not know what to answer. A doll made of rags was lying on the floor beside her; she did not play with it, she held her finger on her lips; she stood, without stirring. The tears were flowing from his eyes, but perhaps not from grief, but just the usual thing—his eyes are inflamed. And perhaps it will make it easier for them to have got one off their shoulders; but there are still two left, a baby, and a little girl, not much more than six. The little girl, their daughter, stood leaning against the coffin, such a poor little, sad, brooding child! And Varinka, my darling, I don’t like it when children brood; it’s painful to see! He’s such a strange fellow! The father was sitting in a greasy old dress suit on a broken chair. There’s not much comfort really in seeing a child suffer, especially one’s own little child, and having no means of helping him!","After all, to have one burden the less on their shoulders may prove a relief, though there are still two children left—a babe at the breast and a little girl of six! How painful to see these suffering children, and to be unable to help them! The father, clad in an old, dirty frockcoat, was seated on a dilapidated chair. Down his cheeks there were coursing tears—though less through grief than owing to a long-standing affliction of the eyes. He was so thin, too! Always he reddens in the face when he is addressed, and becomes too confused to answer. A little girl, his daughter, was leaning against the coffin—her face looking so worn and thoughtful, poor mite! Do you know, I cannot bear to see a child look thoughtful. On the floor there lay a rag doll, but she was not playing with it as, motionless, she stood there with her finger to her lips.",1,0.0054692742,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 40 At this time the style of the reign in Wei was changed from Right Origin, the third year, to Gentle Dew, the first year (AD 256). Sima Zhao commanded all the military forces and made himself Empire Commander-in-Chief. He assumed great pomp, and whenever he moved outside his palace, he was escorted by three thousand mail-clad guards, beside squadrons of cavalry. All power lay in his hands, and he decided all questions so that the court was rather in his palace than in that of the Emperor. Plans for taking the final step constantly occupied his thoughts. The question of mounting the throne was openly mooted by Jia Chong, a confidant, who was a son of Commander Jia Kui. Jia Chong said, “Sir, all real authority is in your hands, and the country is not tranquil. The only remedy is for you to become actual ruler, and you should find out who are your supporters.” Sima Zhao replied, “This has been in my thoughts a long time. You might be my emissary to the east to find out the feeling there. You can pretend you go to thank the soldiers who took part in the late campaign. That would be a good pretext.” Accordingly Jia Chong traveled into the South of River Huai, where he saw Zhuge Dan, General Who Guards the East. This officer was from Nanyang and a cousin of the late Lord of Wuxiang, Zhuge Liang. Zhuge Dan had gone to Wei for employment, but had received no significant office while Zhuge Liang was the Prime minister of Shu. After Zhuge Liang's death, Zhuge Dan's promotion was rapid. He was now Lord of Gaoping and Commander of the south and east of River Huai. Jia Chong went to Zhuge Dan to ask him to convey to the army the appreciation of the soldiers' services. Jia Chong was received courteously, and at a banquet, when host and guest were both mellow with wine, Jia Chong set himself to discover Zhuge Dan's feelings. Jia Chong said, “Lately in Luoyang there has been much talk of the weakness and lack of ability of the Emperor and his unfitness to rule. Now General Sima Zhao comes of a family noted for state service for three generations. His own services and virtues are high as the heavens, and he is the man best fitted to take the rulership of Wei. They see him as more worthy, but I wonder what your opinion is?’ But Zhuge Dan did not favor the suggestion. On the contrary, he broke out angrily, “You are a son of Jia Kui of Yuzhou, and your family have received the bounty of Wei. Yet you dare speak of rebellion!” Jia Chong said, “I only repeat what people have said.” Zhuge Dan said, “If the state is in difficulty, then one ought to stand up for it even to the death.” Jia Chong said no more.",Is this not your opinion?”,1,0.005641909,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 And although this deed was done without your advice, you probably will not be against me or your sister in a claim, since you will see for yourself, from the case that it would be impossible for us to wait and postpone until we receive your answer. He is already a court councilor, Pyotr Petrovich Luzhin, and a distant relative of Marfa Petrovna, who contributed a lot in this. In general, everyone suddenly began to treat her with special respect. He began by expressing a desire to get to know us through her, was properly received, drank coffee, and the next day he sent a letter in which he very politely explained his proposal and asked for a quick and decisive answer. Find out, dear Rodya, that the fiancé has wooed Duna and that she has already given her consent, and I hasten to notify you as soon as possible. Dunya was immediately invited to give lessons in some houses, but she refused. He is a businesslike and busy man and is now in a hurry to Petersburg, so he values every minute. And you yourself could not discuss everything exactly in absentia. It happened so. All this contributed mainly to that unexpected event, through which now, one might say, our whole fate is changing.","Straight away Dunia began getting invitations to give lessons in people’s homes, but she turned them down. And generally everyone started to treat her with special respect. All that was particularly helpful in bringing about the unexpected event which has now, as we may say, transformed our whole destiny. Let me tell you, dear Rodia, that Dunia has received a proposal of marriage and has already given her consent, which I want to tell you about at once. And although this has all been settled without your advice, I am sure you won’t hold it against either me or your sister, since you can see for yourself that we couldn’t have waited and put off replying until we heard from you. And in any case you couldn’t have judged things properly without being here. This is how it all happened. He is called Piotr Petrovich Luzhin and is already a Court Councillor, and a distant relative of Marfa Petrovna, who helped in many ways to promote the match. He began by expressing a wish, through her, to make our acquaintance, and was very properly received by us, and had coffee, and on the very next day he sent a letter in which he made a very courteous proposal and requested an early and definite reply. He is an active and busy man, and is now in a hurry to get to Petersburg, so every minute is precious to him.",1,0.005641909,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 ‘Where am I? Oh yes, in the skirmishing line … pass and watchword—shaft, Olmütz. What a nuisance that our squadron will be in reserve tomorrow,’ he thought. ‘I’ll ask leave to go to the front, this may be my only chance of seeing the Emperor. It won’t be long now before I am off duty. I’ll take another turn and when I get back I’ll go to the general and ask him.’ He readjusted himself in the saddle and touched up his horse to ride once more round his hussars. It even seemed to him that something stirred over this white spot. “The snow must be a stain; the stain is une tache, thought Rostov. He thought it was brighter. On the left side one could see a gentle, illuminated slope and the opposite, black hillock, which seemed steep, like a wall. There was a white spot on this hillock, which Rostov could not understand in any way: was it a clearing in the forest, illuminated by the moon, or the remaining snow, or white houses? ‘There now … it’s not a tache … Natasha … sister, black eyes","It seemed to him that it was getting lighter. To the left he saw a sloping descent lit up, and facing it a black knoll that seemed as steep as a wall. On this knoll there was a white patch that Rostov could not at all make out: was it a glade in the wood lit up by the moon, or some unmelted snow, or some white houses? He even thought something moved on that white spot. ‘It must be snow … that spot … a spot—une tache,’ he thought.",1,0.00581996,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 100 in a word, he suffered, he completely suffered.","they’ve used up all the money they had saved, on food; the case is full of complications, yet meanwhile they needed to live; and meanwhile, without particular intention on their part, and quite unsuitably, a child was born – well, that involved expense; the son fell ill – more expense, and died – yet more expense; his wife is ill; she has some chronic ailment or other: in other words he is been suffering, suffering badly.",1,0.0059110695,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 It’s like selling your soul to the devil.... And besides ... perhaps, I too, am just as unlucky—how do you know—and wallow in the mud on purpose, out of misery? You know, men take to drink from grief; well, maybe I am here from grief. Come, tell me, what is there good here? Here you and I ... came together ... Is it like that? Is it necessary for man to converge with man? just now, and we didn’t say a word to each other all the time, and you, like a wild one, only then began to consider me; and I you too. It’s hideous , that’s what it is!”","just now and did not say one word to one another all the time, and it was only afterwards you began staring at me like a wild creature, and I at you. Is that loving? Is that how one human being should meet another?",1,0.0059110695,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 60 In short, I gave myself up to fantastic comparisons.","I have one book there, Varenka, so it contains the same thing, everything is described in great detail.",1,0.00619299,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 Yes, the point here lay not at all in packs of cards, or the false letters in Nikanor Ivanovich’s briefcase! They had to determine whether the women had been abducted by the gang of murderers and arsonists or whether they had run off with the criminal band of their own free will. And it was he, Korovyov, who had pushed Berlioz to certain death under the streetcar. Those were mere trifles! It was he and his gang who had made Margarita Nikolayevna and her maid, the beautiful Natasha, disappear from Moscow. It was he who had driven the poor poet, Ivan Bezdomny, out of his mind, he who had made him imagine things and have tormenting dreams about ancient Yershalaim and about sun-scorched arid Bald Mountain with its three men hanged on posts. Incidentally, the investigators had given this matter special attention. On the basis of the absurd and incoherent evidence of Nikolai Ivanovich, and considering the strange and insane note Margarita Nikolaevna had left for her husband, the note in which she wrote that she had gone off to become a witch, as well as the circumstance that Natasha had disappeared leaving all her clothes behind, the investigation concluded that both mistress and housekeeper, like many others, had been hypnotized, and had thus been abducted by the band. There also emerged the probably quite correct thought that the criminals had been attracted by the beauty of the two women.","These were all trifles! It was he, Koroviev, who had sent Berlioz to certain death under the tram-car. It was he who had driven the poor poet Ivan Homeless crazy, he who had made him have visions, see ancient Yershalaim in tormenting dreams, and sun-scorched, waterless Bald Mountain with three men hanging on posts. It was he and his gang who had made Margarita Nikolaevna and her housekeeper Natasha disappear from Moscow. Incidentally, the investigation considered this matter with special attention. It had to find out if the two women had been abducted by the gang of murderers and arsonists or had fled voluntarily with the criminal company.",1,0.0065897712,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 There were cries, shouts, screams; some men dove from the ferry, but the swift current carried the boy off so that by the time they'd pulled him out he'd swallowed lots of water and it was too late. He was too delicate anyway: it'd been more than he could take. ""There he is!"" Maxim screamed. The way he asked sounded as if he wanted it very much, the hedgehog. But hardly had the boy uttered these words than Maxim appeared on top of the bank above them. ""Get him, get a hold of him!"" Splash! the little boy said, and he was already laughing and poking his finger into the animal, who put up its bristles, and the little girl was laughing happily, looking at the boy. ""We're going to take him home and tame him,"" she said. He must have rushed out of the house like a madman to catch the boy: he was hatless and in a rage. "" Ah . . . Please can I have your hedgehog? "" Now everything, of course, came back to the boy: he let out a cry, stepped to the edge of the water, pressed his little fists against his chest, looked up at the sky —yes, they all saw him do that—and jumped.","- and he’s already laughing, and he began to poke him with his finger, and the hedgehog bristles, and the girl is glad for the boy: “We, he says, are bringing him home and want to teach him.” - ""Ah, he says, give me your hedgehog!"" And so he touchingly asked her this, and he would just utter it, when suddenly Maxim Ivanovich was above him from above: “Ah! Where are you! Hold him!"" (He became so brutalized that he himself chased him out of the house without a hat.) The boy, as he remembered everything, screamed, rushed to the water, pressed his fist to both breasts, looked into the heavens (saw, saw!) - yes, bang in water! Well, they shouted, rushed from the ferry, began to catch it, but it was carried away by water, the river was fast, but as soon as they pulled it out, it choked, it was dead.",1,0.0067975316,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 According to the programme, the festive day was divided into two parts: a literary matinee,4 from noon until four, and then a ball, from ten o’clock on through the night. But this particular arrangement already contained the seeds of disorder. In the first place, from the very beginning a rumour had become firmly established among the public that there would be a luncheon immediately after the literary matinee or even during it, with an interval devoted expressly to it — a free luncheon, naturally, which would be part of the programme, and with champagne. The enormous cost of the ticket (three roubles) helped confirm the rumour. Because why should I subscribe for nothing? The gala is supposed to go on for twenty-four hours, so they’ll feed us; people will get hungry’ — that’s how people reasoned. I must confess that Yuliya Mikhaylovna herself was responsible for implanting this pernicious rumour through her own heedlessness. About a month earlier, while under the initial spell of her great plan, she was babbling about her gala to anyone she happened to meet, and she even sent a notice to one of the newspapers in the capital about the toasts that would be proposed for the occasion. She was then mainly attracted by the idea of these toasts; she herself wanted to propose them and kept composing them in anticipation. They were to elucidate our main motto (what was it? I’ll bet the poor lady hadn’t composed anything at all), which would then go to the newspapers in the two capitals as coming from a provincial correspondent, intrigue and fascinate the higher authorities, and then spread throughout all the provinces, inspiring wonderment and emulation. But for toasts champagne is necessary, and since it’s impossible to drink champagne on an empty stomach, then, it went without saying, luncheon became necessary as well. Later, when a committee was formed through her efforts and the matter was addressed more seriously, then it was immediately and clearly proved to her that if they were to think of banquets, very little would be left for the governesses, even if the collection were very large. And so there were two ways out of the problem: either a Belshazzar’s feast5 with toasts, and about ninety roubles for the governesses, or the raising of a substantial sum of money, with the gala only a matter of form, so to speak. The committee, however, only wanted to give her a scare, and of course devised a third solution, which reconciled the first two and was reasonable, that is, a very decent gala in all respects, only without champagne, and therefore with a very respectable sum remaining, much more than ninety roubles. But Yuliya Mikhaylovna didn’t agree; by nature she despised the philistine middle way. She proposed forthwith that if the first idea couldn’t be realized, then they should rush to the opposite extreme immediately and wholeheartedly, that is, raise an enormous subscription that would be the envy of all the other provinces. ‘The public really must understand once and for all,’ she concluded her fiery speech to the committee, ‘that the achievement of universal human goals is incomparably loftier than ephemeral corporeal pleasures; that the gala in essence is only the proclamation of a great idea, and one therefore ought to be content with the most economical little German ball, merely as a symbol, and only if we can’t dispense with this intolerable ball altogether!’ —so great was the hatred she had suddenly conceived for it. But they finally calmed her down. It was then, for instance, that they finally devised and proposed a ‘literary quadrille’ and other aesthetic things as substitutes for corporeal pleasures. It was then that Karmazinov finally and definitely agreed to read ‘Merci’ (until then he had been tormenting them with his shilly-shallying), thereby eradicating the very idea of food in the minds of our irrepressible public. And so it was that the ball once more became a magnificent triumph, although not in the same way. And to avoid floating off into the clouds altogether, they decided that tea with lemon and small round biscuits could be served at the beginning of the ball, then orgeat6 and lemonade, and towards the end even ice cream, but that was all. And for those who were always, everywhere and invariably hungry, and, most importantly, thirsty, a special buffet would be opened at the end of a suite of rooms, and Prokhorych (the head chef at the club) would be in charge of it, and — though under the strictest supervision of the committee — anything anyone liked would be served, but for a separate price, and for that purpose a notice would be posted on the doors of the hall, to the effect that the buffet was not included in the programme. But in the morning they decided not to open the buffet at all, so as not to disturb the reading, even though the buffet was to be located five rooms away from the White Hall, where Karmazinov had agreed to read ‘Merci’. It was curious that enormous significance seemed to have been attached to this event by the committee, that is, to the reading of ‘Merci’, and by even its most practical members. And as far as the poetic people were concerned, the wife of the marshal of the nobility, for one, informed Karmazinov that after the reading she would immediately order a marble plaque fixed to the wall of her White Hall, with a gold inscription that read that on such-and-such a date in such-and-such year, here, on this very spot, a great Russian and European writer, on laying down his pen, had read ‘Merci’, and thereby had for the first time taken leave of the Russian public in the persons of the representatives of our town, and that everyone could then read this inscription at the ball, that is, a mere five hours after the reading of ‘Merci’. I know for a fact that it was mainly Karmazinov who demanded that under no circumstances should there be a buffet that morning, while he was reading, despite observations from some members of the committee to the effect that this was not quite our way of doing things.",‘As if I would subscribe for nothing?,1,0.007011795,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 I’ve been steeped in English life ever since I left home, and it would be madness to risk spoiling such unforgettable experiences by a clumsy change of locality.5 As it is, I must have been suffering from some mental aberration to have thought of repudiating my old convictions, to have rejected the visions of my obedient imagination and to have believed like any ninny that it was necessary, interesting and useful to travel abroad.’ What a tiresome business it would be!’ And once again he told himself: ‘When you come to think of it, I’ve seen and felt all that I wanted to see and feel. Now he had only just time enough to run across to the station, but an immense aversion for the journey, an urgent longing to remain where he was, came over him with growing force and intensity. Lost in thought, he sat there letting the minutes slip by, thus cutting off his retreat. ‘If I went now,’ he said to himself, ‘I should have to dash up to the barriers and hustle the porters along with my luggage. He looked at his watch. ‘Time to go home,’ he said.","He had but sufficient time to race to the station. An overwhelming aversion for the trip, an imperious need of remaining tranquil, seized him with a more and more obvious and stubborn strength. Pensively, he let the minutes pass, thus cutting off all retreat, and he said to himself, “Now it would be necessary to rush to the gate and crowd into the baggage room! What ennui! What a bore that would be!” Then he repeated to himself once more, “In fine, I have experienced and seen all I wished to experience and see. I have been filled with English life since my departure. I would be mad indeed to go and, by an awkward trip, lose those imperishable sensations. How stupid of me to have sought to disown my old ideas, to have doubted the efficacy of the docile phantasmagories of my brain, like a very fool to have thought of the necessity, of the curiosity, of the interest of an excursion!” “Well!” he exclaimed, consulting his watch, “it is now time to return home.”",1,0.007121429,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 They are satisfied, and only those who conform, who do not have the winner's mentality, can be satisfied.","And what lovers found wanting in each other, the truth about herself that the wife always hid from her husband, what the mother thought of the child she never had, things that found expression only in a smile or an opportunity, in a moment that was not the right one or in an absent emotion — all of this came with me on my walk and returned with me while the vast waves crashed out the accompaniment that lulled me to sleep.",1,0.007121429,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 The truth is that I only learned horsemanship later, less for the pleasure of it than because I was ashamed to say that I didn’t know how to ride. “Now he’ll really be chasing the girls,” they said when I began the lessons. The same could not be said of Uncle Cosme. Love affairs no longer interested him, though it is said that as a young man he won the hearts of many ladies and was an outspoken party man. With him it was a matter of habit and necessity. But with the passage of the years he lost his sexual and political ardour, and his corpulence effectively put an end to any social or political ambitions. Now, he only carried out his duties, without his old enthusiasm. In his leisure hours he would sit staring, or playing cards. From time to time he would tell jokes.","With him, it had been an old habit, and a necessity. Now, he was done with flirting. They say that when he was younger he was very popular with the ladies, and was a fervent political enthusiast; but the years had removed the greater part of his political and sexual ardor, and corpulence had dealt a final blow to his ambitions, both in the public arena and in more intimate spheres.",1,0.007345827,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 Even if I succeed in getting word through to him as soon as I get back, he’ll probably only send an answer to the message. He turned to go. ‘I’ll get some tea for you, Mr Jia,’ said Tealeaf. ‘ Have a cup of tea before you go.’ ‘ No thanks,’ said Jia Yun, looking back over his shoulder but continuing to go. ‘I’ve got other business.’ I don’t expect he’ll actually come over.’ Her words were sensible and to the point and were spoken in the same thrilling tone that had first attracted him. Jia Yun would have liked to ask her name, but etiquette forbade that he should do so now that he knew she was one of Bao-yu’s maids. He just said: ‘I’m sure you’re right. I’ll come again tomorrow, then.’ It would be much better if he went home now and came again tomorrow. He didn’t have his nap today,’ said the maid. ‘ That means he’ll be having dinner early. Then suppose he doesn’t go out after dinner: are you going to let Mr Jia wait here all day without eating? The words were for Tealeaf, but the look which accompanied them was directed at the soft-voiced maid, who was still standing there.","And the maid rejoined: “He’s not even had a siesta to-day, so that he’ll have his dinner at an early hour, and won’t come down again in the evening; and is it likely that you would have master Secundus wait here and suffer hunger? and isn’t it better than he should return home? The right thing is that he should come to-morrow; for were even by and by some one to turn up, who could take a message, that person would simply acquiesce with the lips, but would he be willing to deliver the message in for you?” Chia Yuen, upon finding how concise and yet how well expressed this girl’s remarks had been, was bent upon inquiring what her name was; but as she was a maid employed in Pao-yue’s apartments, he did not therefore feel justified in asking the question, and he had no other course but to add, “What you say is quite right, I’ll come to-morrow!” and as he spoke, he there and then was making his way outside, when Pei Ming remarked: “I’ll go and pour a cup of tea; and master Secundus, have your tea and then go.” Chia Yuen turned his head round, as he kept on his way, and said by way of rejoinder: “I won’t have any tea; for I’ve besides something more to attend to!” and while with his lips he uttered these words, he, with his eyes, stared at the servant-girl, who was still standing in there.",1,0.00818791,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 - well, everything is known: they say, my benefactors, the mother of the children is dying, three children are starving, so now you help us; but when I die, because now my chicks are not forgotten, in the next world I will not forget you, my benefactors. The poor boy, blue from the cold, maybe hungry, and he doesn’t lie, she doesn’t lie; I know this business. But the only bad thing is that why these nasty mothers do not take care of their children and send them half-naked with notes to such a cold. Well, what is there; it’s a clear matter, a matter of life, but what can I give them? A coin had just jingled, my boy started up, looked around timidly and, apparently, he thought of me that I had given money. She may be a stupid woman, she has no character; and maybe there is no one to try for her, so she sits with her legs crossed, maybe she really is sick. He ran up to me, his hands were trembling, his little voice was trembling, he handed me a piece of paper and said: note! I unfolded the note Well, I didn't give him anything. What a pity!","At the clink of the coin the boy started, looked round and evidently thought that I had given the money. He ran up to me, his little hands trembling, his little voice trembling, he held the paper out to me and said, “A letter.” I opened the letter; well, it was the usual thing, saying: “Kind gentleman, a mother’s dying with three children hungry, so help us now, and as I am dying I will pray for you, my benefactor, in the next world for not forgetting my babes now.” Well, what of it?—one could see what it meant, an everyday matter, but what could I give him? Well, I gave him nothing, and how sorry I was! The boy was poor, blue with cold, perhaps hungry, too, and not lying, surely he was not lying, I know that for certain. But what is wrong is that these horrid mothers don’t take care of their children and send them out half naked in the cold to beg. Maybe she’s a weak-willed, silly woman; and there’s no one, maybe, to do anything for her, so she simply sits with her legs tucked under her, maybe she’s",1,0.008315778,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 As he spoke, he entered the cave, where he perceived beautiful trees with thick foliage, quaint flowers in lustrous bloom, while a line of limpid stream emanated out of a deep recess among the flowers and trees, and oozed down through the crevice of the rock. Progressing several steps further in, they gradually faced the northern side, where a stretch of level ground extended far and wide, on each side of which soared lofty buildings, intruding themselves into the skies, whose carved rafters and engraved balustrades nestled entirely among the depressions of the hills and the tops of the trees. They lowered their eyes and looked, and beheld a pure stream flowing like jade, stone steps traversing the clouds, a balustrade of white marble encircling the pond in its embrace, and a stone bridge with three archways, the animals upon which had faces disgorging water from their mouths. A pavilion stood on the bridge, and in this pavilion Chia Chen and the whole party went and sat. “Gentlemen,” he inquired, “what shall we write about this?” “In the record,” they all replied, “of the ‘Drunken Old Man’s Pavilion,’ written in days of old by Ou Yang, appears this line: ‘There is a pavilion pinioned-like,’ so let us call this ‘the pinioned-like pavilion,’ and finish.” “Pinioned-like,” observed Chia Cheng smiling, “is indeed excellent; but this pavilion is constructed over the water, and there should, after all, be some allusion to the water in the designation. My humble opinion is that of the line in Ou Yang’s work, ‘(the water) drips from between the two peaks,’ we should only make use of that single word ‘drips.’ “ “First-rate!” rejoined one of the visitors, “capital! but what would really be appropriate are the two characters ‘dripping jadelike.’ “ Chia Chen pulled at his moustache, as he gave way to reflection; after which, he asked Pao-yue to also propose one himself. “What you, sir, suggested a while back,” replied Pao-yue, “will do very well; but if we were now to sift the matter thoroughly, the use of the single word ‘drip’ by Ou Yang, in his composition about the Niang spring, would appear quite apposite; while the application, also on this occasion, to this spring, of the character ‘drip’ would be found not quite suitable. Moreover, seeing that this place is intended as a separate residence (for the imperial consort), on her visit to her parents, it is likewise imperative that we should comply with all the principles of etiquette, so that were words of this kind to be used, they would besides be coarse and inappropriate; and may it please you to fix upon something else more recondite and abstruse.” “What do you, gentlemen, think of this argument?” said Jia Zheng sarcastically, ‘You will observe that when we suggest something original we are recommended to prefer the old to the new, but that when we do make use of an old text we are “improper” and “unimaginative” ! ‘I think “Drenched Blossoms” would be more original and more tasteful than “Gushing Jade”.’ – Well, carry on then! Let’s have your suggestion!’ Jia Zheng stroked his beard and nodded silently. The literary gentlemen could see that he was pleased and hastened to commend Bao-yu’s remarkable ability. ‘ That’s the two words for the framed board on top,’ said Jia Zheng. “The selection of two characters for the tablet is an easy matter,” suggested Chia Cheng, “but now go on and compose a pair of antithetical phrases with seven words in each.” Pao-yue cast a glance round the four quarters, when an idea came into his head, and he went on to recite: The willows, which enclose the shore, the green borrow from three bamboos; On banks apart, the flowers asunder grow, yet one perfume they give. Upon hearing these lines, Chia Cheng gave a faint smile, as he nodded his head, whilst the whole party went on again to be effusive in their praise.","Chia Cheng remarked sneeringly. “A little while ago, when the whole company devised something original, you observed that it would be better to quote an old device; and now that we have quoted an old motto, you again maintain that it’s coarse and inappropriate! But you had better give us one of yours.” “If two characters like ‘dripping jadelike’ are to be used,” Pao-yue explained, “it would be better then to employ the two words ‘Penetrating Fragrance,’ which would be unique and excellent, wouldn’t they?” Chia Cheng pulled his moustache, nodded his head and did not utter a word; whereupon the whole party hastily pressed forward with one voice to eulogize Pao-yue’s acquirements as extraordinary.",1,0.008315778,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 Reading this document aloud, the old man became so excited and moved that, although what he was reading was quite contrary to my feeling, it nevertheless aroused admiration. For his part, he too had been a hero. I had another proof of this when he himself wanted to tell me the story of a certain lily of gilded wood, which was still there in the hall. On the morning of 5 September 1860 the King left the Royal Palace of Naples in a stick discovered together with the Queen and two gentlemen of the court: when the stick arrived in via di Chiaja he had to stop due to a hitch of carts and cars in front of a pharmacy that had on the banner the golden lilies. A ladder, leaning against the sign, prevented the passage. Some workmen were on the ladder removing the lilies from the sign. The Marchese was passing just at that moment: indignant and furious, he rushed into the pharmacy, grabbed the cowardly shopkeeper by the lapels, showed him the King outside, spat in his face and, brandishing one of the lilies that had been detached, set up the cry amid the crowd: “God save the King!” The King realised what was happening and pointed out to the queen this act of cowardice and commonsense on the part of the pharmacist who, in different times, must have begged the honour of adorning his shop with the royal symbol. ","Some workers, having climbed that ladder, detached the lilies from the sign. The King noticed this and pointed with his hand to the Queen that act of cowardly prudence of the pharmacist, who in other times had also solicited the honor of embellishing his shop with that royal symbol. He, the Marquis d'Auletta, was at that moment passing by: indignant, furious, he had rushed into the pharmacy, had grabbed the coward by the collar of his jacket, had shown him the King outside, had then he spat in his face and, brandishing one of those detached lilies, he started shouting in the crowd: ""Long live the King!""",1,0.008445628,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 Yes, but what kind of earnings do we have, besides the factories; there he will wash the floors, there he will fly out in the garden, there he will heat a bathhouse, and with a baby in his arms he will howl; and four others are running down the street in shirts. The mother screamed with her chicks, drove the orphans out of the house, and not only out of malice, but sometimes a person himself does not know by what impulse he stands his ground. Well, they helped at first, and then went to get hired. When she put them on their knees at the porch, they were still in slippers, whatever they were, but in cloaks, everything was as it was, but merchant children; and then the barefoot ones went running: the child’s clothes are on fire, you know. But you know how children are: they don't mind; as long as the sun is shining, they don't feel their misery; they're happy like little birds and their voices sound like jingle bells. The widow, she kept worrying though: ""What will I do with all my little ones when winter comes? I pray God will call them to Him by then. "" But she didn't have to wait for winter. In our part of the country there's a whooping cough that goes around sometimes and then it skips from one child to another. First it was the baby that died and then, one after the other, the rest of the little girls fell ill and they all died in turns during the fall, although one of them didn't actually die of the sickness but was run over by a cart in the street. So what do you think? She buried them and wept and wailed. She'd cursed her children herself, but now that God had taken them, she missed them badly. That's a mother's heart for you!","So the mother could only weep as Maxim turned her out of her house with her little orphans. But it was not really out of spite that he'd done it , for often a man doesn't know himself why he insists on doing certain things. Well, other people helped her at first and then she went out looking for work. But what work could she hope to find around Afimievsk except on the cotton mill grounds? There she could scrub the floors, weed the vegetable garden, heat the bathhouse, while still keeping an eye on her baby and the other four children who ran around outside the buildings in their little shirts. When she'd lined them all up by the church door, the children still had some sort of shoes on their feet and jackets that still looked like jackets, for they were not peasants after all but the children of a merchant. However, everybody knows how a child burns up clothes and now they had to run around barefoot with just their shirts on their backs.",1,0.008847355,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 40 While they were talking they arrived at the place where they were to spend the night, and took rooms together. He had left his house by a bizarre adventure; friends had recommended it; and he had made her his secretary while waiting for something better. He had been premonstrated. The marquis spoke of the young man who was following him. Jacques and the young man were served separately. Jacques' master and the Marquis des Arcis supped together. The master sketched in four words to the Marquis the story of Jacques and his fatalistic turn of the head. Jacques' master said: ""That's pleasant."" That’s funny.’",Jacques’ master and the Marquis des Arcis had supper together. Jacques and the young man were served separately. The master explained to the Marquis in four words the story of Jacques and his fatalistic turn of mind. The Marquis spoke of the young man who was with him. He had been a Premonstratensian and had left his abbey through a bizarre incident.46 Some friends of the Marquis had recommended him to the Marquis who had made him his secretary while waiting for better things. ‘,1,0.0094125895,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 60 But for more than a year since, revealing to him many of the riches of his soul, the love of music had been born in him for some time at least, Swann considered musical motifs to be true ideas, to another world, of another order, ideas veiled in darkness, unknown, impenetrable to the intellect, but which are none the less perfectly distinct from each other, unequal to each other in value and meaning. When, after the Verdurin evening, having the little phrase replayed to himself, he had tried to unravel how, like a perfume, a caress, it surrounded him, she enveloped him, he realized that it was was due to the slight gap between the five notes that made it up and the constant reminder of two of them that this impression of retracted and chilly sweetness was due; but in reality he knew that he was thus reasoning not on the sentence itself but on simple values, substituted for the convenience of his intelligence for the mysterious entity which he had perceived, before meeting the Verdurins, at that evening when he had heard the sonata for the first time. He knew that the very memory of the piano still falsified the plane in which he saw musical things, that the field open to the musician was not a mean seven-note keyboard, but an immeasurable keyboard, still almost entirely unknown, where only here and there, separated by thick unexplored darkness, a few of the millions of touches of tenderness, passion, courage, serenity, which compose it, each as different from the others as one universe from another universe, have been discovered by some great artists who render us a service, by awakening in us the correspondent of the theme they have found, to show us what richness, what variety, hides without our knowledge this great impenetrable and discouraging night of our soul that we take for emptiness and nothingness. Vinteuil had been one of these musicians. In her little phrase, although it presented an obscure surface to reason, one felt a content so consistent, so explicit, to which she gave such a new, so original force, that those who had heard it kept it within themselves. -foot with the ideas of intelligence. Swann referred to it as to a conception of love and happiness which immediately he knew as well in what it was special, as he knew for the ""Princess of Cleves"", or for ""René"", when their name stood in his memory. Even when he was not thinking of the little phrase, it existed latent in his mind just like certain other unequaled notions, such as the notions of light, sound, relief, physical voluptuousness, which are the rich possessions with which our inner domain is diversified and adorned. Perhaps we will lose them, perhaps they will fade away, if we return to nothingness. But as long as we live, we can no more do that we have known them than we can for any real object, that we cannot doubt, for example, the light of the lamp that is lit before the metamorphosed objects of our room from which escaped even the memory of darkness. In this way, Vinteuil's phrase had, like a theme from Tristan for example, which also represents a certain sentimental acquisition for us, embraced our mortal condition, took on something human that was quite touching. Its fate was linked to the future, to the reality of our soul, of which it was one of the most particular, best differentiated ornaments. Perhaps it is nothingness that is true and our whole dream is non-existent, but then we feel that these musical phrases, these notions that exist in relation to it, will have to be nothing either. And death in their company is less bitter, less inglorious, perhaps less probable. We will perish, but we have for hostages these divine captives who will follow us and share our fate. ","We will perish, but we have as hostages these divine captives who will follow our luck. And death with her has something less bitter, less inglorious, perhaps less probable.",1,0.009559399,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 To tell you the truth, my dear, I began describing all this to you partly in order to unburden my heart, but more particularly in order to provide you with an example of the good style of my literary compositions. Because I think you will probably agree, little mother, that my style has improved of late. But now I am visited by such sickness of heart that I have begun to feel my thoughts in the depths of my soul, and although I am aware, little mother, that this feeling will not get me anywhere , I none the less believe that I am in a certain sense doing myself justice. And really, my darling, I often take the wind out of my own sails for no reason at all, I consider myself not worth a pinch of salt, class myself among the lowest of the low. To use a comparison: perhaps this happens because, like that poor boy who begged me for alms, I myself am bullied and overworked. Now I shall express this to you by way of example and allegory, little mother; listen to this: sometimes, my darling, early in the morning when I am hurrying to work, I have occasion to take a glance at the city as it is waking up and getting out of bed, emitting its vapours, seething and rumbling – sometimes this spectacle makes one feel so small that it is though someone had given one a slap on one is inquisitive nose, and one trudges onwards with a shrug of one is shoulders, as quiet as a mouse. Now, just take a look at what is going on in those big, black, sooty buildings, investigate it thoroughly, and you yourself will be able to tell whether I had good reason to class myself as the lowest of the low and to be cast into an undignified state of confusion. Observe, Varenka, that I express myself allegorically, not in a direct sense. Well, let’s take a look: what is there in those buildings? There, in some smoky corner, in some dank bolthole which must out of necessity serve as a lodging, some artisan is waking from slumber; all night he has been dreaming, let us say, of the boots which the day before he inadvertenyly cut a hole in, as though anyone ought to spend a whole night dreaming about such rubbish! But he is an artisan, a cobbler: it is excusable for him to think about his specialty all the time. His children are clamouring and his wife is hungry; and it is not just cobblers who sometimes get out of bed in the morning feeling like that, little mother. That would be of no consequence, and would not be worth writing about; but you see, little mother, there is something else to be taken into account: right there, in the same building, on the storey above or below, in his gilded chambers, a very rich personage has been dreaming in the night about those very same boots – in a different aspect, of course, from a different point of view, but still about those boots; for in the sense I am here implying, little mother, we are all, my darling, to a certain extent cobblers. Even that would be of no consequence, except that it is bad that there should be no one at that very rich personage is side, no one who might whisper in his ear the words: ‘Come now, that is enough of thinking only about this subject, of thinking only about yourself, living only for yourself ; you’re not a cobbler, your children are healthy and your wife isn’t begging for food; take a look around you – can’t you find a more noble subject for your concern than your boots?’ That is what I wanted to say to you in this allegorical manner, Varenka. It is, my dear, possibly too radical a thought, but it is a thought that is sometimes there, that sometimes visits one and then emerges from one is heart in ardent words. And so there was no reason to consider oneself not worth a pinch of salt, and let oneself be frightened by all the noise and thunder! I will conclude, little mother, by supposing you may wonder if I am spouting slander, or have been overtaken by an attack of spleen, or have copied all this out of some book or other. No, little mother, you may dispose of any such illusions: I loathe slander , I haven’t had an attack of spleen, and I didn’t copy this out of any book – so there! ","No, no, Barbara. You may rest assured that it is not so. Exaggeration I abhor, with whims I have nothing to do, and of quotation I am guiltless. I arrived home today in a melancholy mood.",1,0.009559399,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 20 After entering the store and sitting down, he called the bartender: ""Pour wine and eat, I will rush into the city to join the army."" In the drinking room, I saw a big man, pushing a car, and stopped at the front of the store. Now I hear that the Yellow Turbans are advocating rebellion, and I have the will to destroy the thieves and save the people; How about taking a big event with your master, Yan Yong?"" Xuande was overjoyed, so he went to the village shop with him to drink.","And I wish I could destroy these Yellow Scarves and restore peace to the land, but alas! I am helpless.” “I have the means,” said Zhang Fei. “Suppose you and I raised some troops and tried what we could do.” This was happy news for Liu Bei, and the two betook themselves to the village inn to talk over the project. As they were drinking, a huge, tall fellow appeared pushing a hand-cart along the road. At the threshold he halted and entered the inn to rest awhile and he called for wine. “And be quick,” added he, “for I am in haste to get into the town and offer myself for the army.”",1,0.010328153,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 She was certainly sorry for not having been able to please me and gave me a little gold pencil, by that virtuous perversity of people who, softened by your kindness and not subscribing to grant you what she asks for, nevertheless want to do something else in your favor: the critic whose article would flatter the novelist invites him instead to dinner, the Duchess does not take the snob with her to the theater, but sends him her box for an evening when she does not will not occupy. So many who do the least and could do nothing are driven by scruple to do something. I told Albertine that by giving me this pencil, she gave me great pleasure, less great pleasure, however, than what I would have had if the evening when she had come to sleep at the hotel she had allowed me to kiss her. . “That would have made me so happy! what could that do you? I'm surprised you refused me. “What surprises me,” she replied, “is that you find that astonishing. I wonder what young girls you may have known that my behavior surprised you. “I'm sorry to have upset you, but even now I can't tell you that I think I was wrong. My opinion is that these are things that have no importance, and I do not understand that a young girl who can so easily please, does not consent to it. Let's get along, I added to give half satisfaction to her moral ideas, remembering how she and her friends had stigmatized the actress's friend Léa , I don't want to say that a young girl can do everything. and that there is nothing immoral. So, look, these relationships you were talking about the other day about a little girl who lives in Balbec and which would exist between her and an actress, I find that despicable, so despicable that I think they are enemies of the young girl who will have invented this and that it is not true. It strikes me as improbable, impossible. But letting yourself be kissed, and even more by a friend, since you say I'm your friend… – You are, but I've had others before you, I've known young people who, I assure you , had just as much friendship for me. Well, there is not one who would have dared such a thing. They knew the pair of skullcaps they would have received. Besides, they didn't even think about it, we shook hands very frankly, very amicably, like good comrades, we would never have spoken of kissing and we were friends none the less for that. Come on, if you value my friendship, you can be happy, because I must love you nicely to forgive you. But I'm sure you don't care about me. Admit that you like Andrée. Basically, you're right , she's much nicer than me, and she's lovely! Ah! men ! Despite my recent disappointment, these frank words, while giving me great esteem for Albertine, made a very sweet impression on me. And perhaps this impression had great and unfortunate consequences for me later on, for it was through it that this almost family sentiment began to form, this moral core which was always to subsist in the midst of my love for Albertine. Such a feeling can be the cause of the greatest sorrows. Because to really suffer through a woman, you must have believed completely in her. For the moment, this embryo of moral esteem, of friendship, remained in the middle of my soul like a waiting stone. It could not have done anything, on its own, against my happiness if it had remained thus without increasing, in an inertia which it was to keep the following year and even more so during these last weeks of my first stay. in Balbec. He was in me like one of those guests whom, in spite of everything, it would be more prudent to expel, but whom one leaves in their place without worrying them, so much does their weakness and their isolation in the midst of a soul render them temporarily harmless. foreign.","It seems improbable, impossible.",1,0.010328153,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 It was Mrs. Grubach's living room, over-filled with furniture, tablecloths, porcelain and photographs. Perhaps there was a little more space in there than usual today, but if so it was not immediately obvious, especially as the main difference was the presence of a man sitting by the open window with a book from which he now looked up. “I want neither to stay here nor to be spoken to by you until you've introduced yourself.” The next room, which K. entered more slowly than he had intended, looked at first glance exactly the same as it had the previous evening. “I meant it for your own good,” said the stranger and opened the door, this time without being asked. “You should have stayed in your room!","“I have no wish to stay here, nor to be addressed by you, until you’ve introduced yourself.” “I meant well,” the stranger said, and now opened the door of his own accord. In the adjoining room, which K. entered more slowly than he had intended, everything looked at first glance almost exactly as it had on the previous evening. It was Frau Grubach’s living room; perhaps there was slightly more space than usual amid the clutter of furniture coverlets china and photographs, but it wasn’t immediately obvious, especially since the major change was the presence of a man sitting by the open window with a book, from which he now looked up. “You should have stayed in your room!",1,0.01048909,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 At first, K. was astonished at this orderly explanation, but then, just as quietly as the painter, he said, “I think you're contradicting yourself.” “How's that?” asked the painter patiently, leaning back with a smile. This smile made K. feel as if he were examining not the words of the painter but seeking out inconsistencies in the procedures of the court itself. Nonetheless, he continued unabashed and said, “You remarked earlier that the court cannot be approached with reasoned proofs, you later restricted this to the open court, and now you go so far as to say that an innocent man needs no assistance in court. That entails a contradiction. Moreover, you said earlier that the judges can be influenced personally but now you insist that an absolute acquittal, as you call it, can never be attained through personal influence. That entails a second contradiction.” “It's quite easy to clear up these contradictions,” said the painter. “We're talking about two different things here, there's what it says in the law and there's what I know from my own experience , you shouldn't get the two confused. I've never seen it in writing, but the law does, of course, say on the one hand that the innocent will be set free, but on the other hand it doesn't say that the judges can be influenced. But in my experience it's the other way round. I don't know of any absolute acquittals but I do know of many times when a judge has been influenced. It's possible, of course, that there was no innocence in any of the cases I know about. But is that likely? Not a single innocent defendant in so many cases? When I was a boy I used to listen closely to my father when he told us about court cases at home, and the judges that came to his studio talked about the court, in our circles nobody talks about anything else; I hardly ever got the chance to go to court myself but always made use of it when I could, I've listened to countless trials at important stages in their development, I've followed them closely as far as they could be followed, and I have to say that I've never seen a single acquittal.” “So. Not a single acquittal,” said K., as if talking to himself and his hopes. “That confirms the impression I already have of the court. So there's no point in it from this side either. They could replace the whole court with a single hangman.” “You shouldn't generalise,” said the painter, dissatisfied, “I've only been talking about my own experience.” “Well that's enough,” said K., “or have you heard of any acquittals that happened earlier?” “They say there have been some acquittals earlier,” the painter answered, “but it's very hard to be sure about it. The courts don't make their final conclusions public, not even the judges are allowed to know about them, so that all we know about these earlier cases are just legends. But most of them did involve absolute acquittals, you can believe that, but they can't be proved. On the other hand, you shouldn't forget all about them either, I'm sure there is some truth to them, and they are very beautiful, I've painted a few pictures myself depicting these legends.” “My assessment will not be altered by mere legends,” said K. “I don't suppose it's possible to cite these legends in court, is it?” The painter laughed. “No, you can't cite them in court,” he said. “Then there's no point in talking about them,” said K., he wanted, for the time being, to accept anything the painter told him, even if he thought it unlikely or contradicted what he had been told by others. He did not now have the time to examine the truth of everything the painter said or even to disprove it, he would have achieved as much as he could if the painter would help him in any way even if his help would not be decisive. As a result, he said, “So let's pay no more attention to absolute acquittal, but you mentioned two other possibilities.” “Apparent acquittal and deferment. They're the only possibilities,” said the painter. “But before we talk about them, would you not like to take your coat off? You must be hot.” “Yes,” said K., who until then had paid attention to nothing but the painter's explanations, but now that he had had the heat pointed out to him his brow began to sweat heavily. “It's almost unbearable.” The painter nodded as if he understood K.'s discomfort very well. “Could we not open the window?” asked K. “No,” said the painter. “It's only a fixed pane of glass, it can't be opened.” K. now realised that all this time he had been hoping the painter would suddenly go over to the window and pull it open. He had prepared himself even for the fog that he would breathe in through his open mouth. The thought that here he was entirely cut off from the air made him feel dizzy. He tapped lightly on the bedspread beside him and, with a weak voice, said, “That is very inconvenient and unhealthy.” “Oh no,” said the painter in defence of his window, “as it can't be opened this room retains the heat better than if the window were double glazed, even though it's only a single pane. There's not much need to air the room as there's so much ventilation through the gaps in the wood, but when I do want to I can open one of my doors, or even both of them.” K. was slightly consoled by this explanation and looked around to see where the second door was. The painter saw him do so and said, “It's behind you, I had to hide it behind the bed.” Only then was K. able to see the little door in the wall. “It's really much too small for a studio here,” said the painter, as if he wanted to anticipate an objection K. would make. “I had to arrange things as well as I could. That's obviously a very bad place for the bed, in front of the door. For instance when the judge I'm painting at present comes he always comes through the door by the bed, and I've even given him a key to this door so that he can wait for me here in the studio when I'm not home. Although nowadays he usually comes early in the morning when I'm still asleep. And of course, it always wakes me up when I hear the door opened beside the bed, however fast asleep I am. If you could hear the way I curse him as he climbs over my bed in the morning you'd lose all respect for judges. I suppose I could take the key away from him but that'd only make things worse. It only takes a tiny effort to break any of the doors here off their hinges.” All the time the painter was speaking, K. was considering whether he should take off his coat, but he finally realised that, if he didn't do so, he would be quite unable to stay here any longer, so he took off his frock coat and lay it on his knee so that he could put it back on again as soon as the conversation was over. He had hardly done this when one of the girls called out, “Now he's taken his coat off!” and they could all be heard pressing around the gaps in the planks to see the spectacle for themselves. “The girls think I'm going to paint your portrait,” said the painter, “and that's why you're taking your coat off.” “I see,” said K., only slightly amused by this, as he felt little better than he had before even though he now sat in his shirtsleeves. With some irritation he asked, “What did you say the two other possibilities were?” He had already forgotten the terms used. “Apparent acquittal and deferment,” said the painter. “It's up to you which one you choose. You can get either of them if I help you, but it'll take some effort of course, the difference between them is that apparent acquittal needs concentrated effort for a while and that deferment takes much less effort but it has to be sustained. Now then, apparent acquittal. If that's what you want I'll write down an assertion of your innocence on a piece of paper. The text for an assertion of this sort was passed down to me from my father and it's quite unassailable. I take this assertion round to the judges I know. So I'll start off with the one I'm currently painting, and put the assertion to him when he comes for his sitting this evening. I'll lay the assertion in front of him, explain that you're innocent and give him my personal guarantee of it. And that's not just a superficial guarantee, it's a real one and it's binding.” The painter's eyes seemed to show some reproach of K. for wanting to impose that sort of responsibility on him. “That would be very kind of you"", said K. “And would the judge then believe you and nonetheless not pass an absolute acquittal?” “It's like I just said,” answered the painter. “And anyway, it's not entirely sure that all the judges would believe me, many of them, for instance, might want me to bring you to see them personally. So then you'd have to come along too. But at least then, if that happens, the matter is half way won, especially as I'd teach you in advance exactly how you'd need to act with the judge concerned, of course. What also happens, though, is that there are some judges who'll turn me down in advance, and that's worse. I'll certainly make several attempts, but still, we'll have to forget about them, but at least we can afford to do that as no one judge can pass the decisive verdict. Then when I've got enough judges' signatures on this document I take it to the judge who's concerned with your case. I might even have his signature already, in which case things develop a bit quicker than they would do otherwise. But there aren't usually many hold ups from then on, and that's the time that the defendant can feel most confident. It's odd, but true, that people feel more confidence in this time than they do after they've been acquitted. There's no particular exertion needed now. When he has the document asserting the defendant's innocence, guaranteed by a number of other judges, the judge can acquit you without any worries, and although there are still several formalities to be gone through there's no doubt that that's what he'll do as a favour to me and several other acquaintances. You, however, walk out the court and you're free.” “So, then I'll be free,” said K., hesitantly. “That's right,” said the painter, “but only apparently free or, to put it a better way, temporarily free, as the most junior judges, the ones I know, they don't have the right to give the final acquittal. Only the highest judge can do that, in the court that's quite of reach for you, for me and for all of us. We don't know how things look there and, incidentally, we don't want to know. The right to acquit people is a major privilege and our judges don't have it, but they do have the right to free people from the indictment. That's to say, if they're freed in this way then for the time being the charge is withdrawn but it's still hanging over their heads and it only takes an order from higher up to bring it back into force. And as I'm in such good contact with the court I can also tell you how the difference between absolute and apparent acquittal is described, just in a superficial way, in the directives to the court offices. If there's an absolute acquittal all proceedings should stop, everything disappears from the process, not just the indictment but the trial and even the acquittal disappears, everything just disappears. With an apparent acquittal it's different. When that happens, nothing has changed except that the case for your innocence, for your acquittal and the grounds for the acquittal have been made stronger. Apart from that, proceedings go on as before, the court offices continue their business and the case gets passed to higher courts, gets passed back down to the lower courts and so on, backwards and forwards, sometimes faster, sometimes slower, to and fro. It's impossible to know exactly what's happening while this is going on. Seen from outside it can sometimes seem that everything has been long since forgotten, the documents have been lost and the acquittal is complete. No-one familiar with the court would believe it. No documents ever get lost, the court forgets nothing. One day—no-one expects it—some judge or other picks up the documents and looks more closely at them, he notices that this particular case is still active, and orders the defendant's immediate arrest. I've been talking here as if there's a long delay between apparent acquittal and re-arrest, that is quite possible and I do know of cases like that, but it's just as likely that the defendant goes home after he's been acquitted and finds somebody there waiting to re-arrest him. Then, of course, his life as a free man is at an end.” “And does the trial start over again?” asked K., finding it hard to believe. “The trial will always start over again,” said the painter, “but there is, once again as before, the possibility of getting an apparent acquittal. Once again, the accused has to muster all his strength and mustn't give up.” The painter said that last phrase possibly as a result of the impression that K., whose shoulders had dropped somewhat, gave on him. “But to get a second acquittal,” asked K., as if in anticipation of further revelations by the painter, “is that not harder to get than the first time?” “As far as that's concerned,” answered the painter, “there's nothing you can say for certain. You mean, do you, that the second arrest would have an adverse influence on the judge and the verdict he passes on the defendant? That's not how it happens. When the acquittal is passed the judges are already aware that re-arrest is likely. So when it happens it has hardly any effect. But there are countless other reasons why the judges' mood and their legal acumen in the case can be altered, and efforts to obtain the second acquittal must therefore be suited to the new conditions, and generally just as vigorous as the first.” “But this second acquittal will once again not be final,” said K., shaking his head. “Of course not,” said the painter, “the second acquittal is followed by the third arrest, the third acquittal by the fourth arrest and so on. That's what is meant by the term apparent acquittal.” K. was silent. “You clearly don't think an apparent acquittal offers much advantage,” said the painter, “perhaps deferment would suit you better. Would you like me to explain what deferment is about?” K. nodded. The painter had leant back and spread himself out in his chair, his nightshirt was wide open, he had pushed his hand inside and was stroking his breast and his sides. “Deferment,” said the painter, looking vaguely in front of himself for a while as if trying to find a perfectly appropriate explanation, “deferment consists of keeping proceedings permanently in their earliest stages. To do that, the accused and those helping him need to keep in continuous personal contact with the court, especially those helping him. I repeat, this doesn't require so much effort as getting an apparent acquittal, but it probably requires a lot more attention. You must never let the trial out of your sight, you have to go and see the appropriate judge at regular intervals as well as when something in particular comes up and , whatever you do, you have to try and remain friendly with him; if you don't know the judge personally you have to influence him through the judges you do know, and you have to do it without giving up on the direct discussions. As long as you don't fail to do any of these things you can be reasonably sure the trial won't get past its first stages. The trial doesn't stop, but the defendant is almost as certain of avoiding conviction as if he'd been acquitted. Compared with an apparent acquittal, deferment has the advantage that the defendant's future is less uncertain, he's safe from the shock of being suddenly re-arrested and doesn't need to fear the exertions and stress involved in getting an apparent acquittal just when everything else in his life would make it most difficult. Deferment does have certain disadvantages of its own though, too, and they shouldn't be under-estimated. I don't mean by this that the defendant is never free, he's never free in the proper sense of the word with an apparent acquittal either. There's another disadvantage. Proceedings can't be prevented from moving forward unless there are some at least ostensible reasons given. So something needs to seem to be happening when looked at from the outside. This means that from time to time various injunctions have to be obeyed, the accused has to be questioned, investigations have to take place and so on. The trial's been artificially constrained inside a tiny circle, and it has to be continuously spun round within it. And that, of course, brings with it certain unpleasantnesses for the accused, although you shouldn't imagine they're all that bad. All of this is just for show, the interrogations, for instance, they're only very short, if you ever don't have the time or don't feel like going to them you can offer an excuse, with some judges you can even arrange the injunctions together a long time in advance, in essence all it means is that, as the accused, you have to report to the judge from time to time.” Even while the painter was speaking those last words K. had laid his coat over his arm and had stood up. Immediately, from outside the door, there was a cry of 'He's standing up now!'. “Are you leaving already?” asked the painter, who had also stood up. “It must be the air that's driving you out. I'm very sorry about that. There's still a lot I need to tell you. I had to put everything very briefly but I hope at least it was all clear.” “Oh yes,” said K., whose head was aching from the effort of listening. Despite this affirmation the painter summed it all up once more, as if he wanted to give K. something to console him on his way home. “Both have in common that they prevent the defendant being convicted,” he said. “But they also prevent his being properly acquitted,” said K. quietly, as if ashamed to acknowledge it. “You've got it, in essence,” said the painter quickly. K. placed his hand on his winter overcoat but could not bring himself to put it on. Most of all he would have liked to pack everything together and run out to the fresh air. Not even the girls could induce him to put his coat on, even though they were already loudly telling each other that he was doing so. The painter still had to interpret K.'s mood in some way, so he said, “I expect you've deliberately avoided deciding between my suggestions yet. That's good. I would even have advised against making a decision straight away. There's no more than a hair's breadth of difference between the advantages and disadvantages. Everything has to be carefully weighed up. But the most important thing is you shouldn't lose too much time.” “I'll come back here again soon,” said K., who had suddenly decided to put his frock coat on, threw his overcoat over his shoulder and hurried over to the door behind which the girls now began to scream. K. thought he could even see the screaming girls through the door. “Well, you'll have to keep your word,” said the painter, who had not followed him, “otherwise I'll to the bank to ask about it myself.” “Will you open this door for me,” said K. pulling at the handle which, as he noticed from the resistance, was being held tightly by the girls on the other side. “Do you want the girls bothering you?” asked the painter. “It's better if you use the other way out,” he said, pointing to the door behind the bed. K. agreed to this and jumped back to the bed. But instead of opening that door the painter crawled under the bed and from underneath it asked K., “Just a moment more, would you not like to see a picture I could sell to you?” K. did not want to be impolite, the painter really had taken his side and promised to help him more in the future, and because of K.'s forgetfulness there had been no mention of any payment for the painter's help, so K. could not turn him down now and allowed him to show him the picture, even though he was quivering with impatience to get out of the studio. From under the bed, the painter withdrew a pile of unframed paintings. They were so covered in dust that when the painter tried to blow it off the one on top the dust swirled around in front of K.'s eyes, robbing him of breath for some time. “Moorland landscape,” said the painter passing the picture to K. It showed two sickly trees, well separated from each other in dark grass. In the background there was a multi-coloured sunset. “That's nice,” said K. “I'll buy it.” K. expressed himself in this curt way without any thought, so he was glad when the painter did not take this amiss and picked up a second painting from the floor. “This is a counterpart to the first picture,” said the painter. Perhaps it had been intended as a counterpart, but there was not the slightest difference to be seen between it and the first picture, there were the trees, there the grass and there the sunset. But this was of little importance to K. “They are beautiful landscapes,” he said, “I'll buy them both and hang them in my office.” “You seem to like this subject,” said the painter, picking up a third painting, “good job I've still got another, similar picture here.” The picture though, was not similar, rather it was exactly the same moorland landscape. The painter was fully exploiting this opportunity to sell off his old pictures. “I'll take this one too,” said K. “How much do the three paintings cost?” “We can talk about that next time,” said the painter. “You're in a hurry now, and we'll still be in contact. And besides, I'm glad you like the paintings, I'll give you all the paintings I've got down here. They're all moorland landscapes, I've painted a lot of moorland landscapes. A lot of people don't like that sort of picture because they're too gloomy, but there are others, and you're one of them, who love gloomy themes.” But K. was not in the mood to hear about the professional experiences of this painter cum beggar. “Wrap them all up!” he called out, interrupting the painter as he was speaking, “my servant will come to fetch them in the morning.” “There's no need for that,” said the painter. “I expect I can find a porter for you who can go with you now.” And, at last, he leant over the bed and unlocked the door. “Just step on the bed, don't worry about that,” said the painter, “that's what everyone does who comes in here.” Even without this invitation, K. had shown no compunction in already placing his foot in the middle of the bed covers, then he looked out through the open door and drew his foot back again. “What is that?” he asked the painter. “What are you so surprised at?” he asked, surprised in his turn. “Those are court offices. Didn't you know there are court offices here? There are court offices in almost every attic, why should this building be any different? Even my studio is actually one of the court offices but the court put it at my disposal.” It was not so much finding court offices even here that shocked K., he was mainly shocked at himself, at his own na�vety in court matters. It seemed to him that one of the most basic rules governing how a defendant should behave was always to be prepared, never allow surprises, never to look, unsuspecting, to the right when the judge stood beside him to his left—and this was the very basic rule that he was continually violating. A long corridor extended in from of him, air blew in from it which, compared with the air in the studio, was refreshing. There were benches set along each side of the corridor just as in the waiting area for the office he went to himself. There seemed to be precise rules governing how offices should be equipped. There did not seem to be many people visiting the offices that day. There was a man there, half sitting, half laying, his face was buried in his arm on the bench and he seemed to be sleeping; another man was standing in the half-dark at the end of the corridor. K. now climbed over the bed, the painter followed him with the pictures. They soon came across a servant of the court—K. was now able to recognise all the servants of the court from the gold buttons they wore on their civilian clothes below the normal buttons—and the painter instructed him to go with K. carrying the pictures. K. staggered more than he walked, his handkerchief pressed over his mouth. They had nearly reached the exit when the girls stormed in on them, so K. had not been able to avoid them. They had clearly seen that the second door of the studio had been opened and had gone around to impose themselves on him from this side. “I can't come with you any further!” called out the painter with a laugh as the girls pressed in. “Goodbye, and don't hesitate too long!” K. did not even look round at him. Once on the street he took the first cab he came across. He now had to get rid of the servant, whose gold button continually caught his eye even if it caught no-one else's. As a servant, the servant of the court was going to sit on the coach-box. But K. chased him down from there. It was already well into the afternoon when K. arrived in front of the bank. He would have liked to leave the pictures in the cab but feared there might be some occasion when he would have to let the painter see he still had them. So he had the pictures taken to his office and locked them in the lowest drawer of his desk so that he could at least keep them safe from the deputy director's view for the next few days.",“Do you want to be bothered by the girls?”,1,0.01048909,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 40 One day was very stormy. Then the Mangs saw great flames spring up around them, and at the same time the rolling of drums heralded an attack. The Mangs, instead of going out to meet the enemy, began to force their way out of the Shu attack. Meng Huo became alarmed and fled with all his clans and dependents. They fought their way through and made a dash for their former camp. Just as they reached it, there appeared a cohort of the enemy led by Zhao Yun. Meng Huo turned off west and sought refuge in the mountains. But he was fiercely attacked by a cohort under Ma Dai. With a small remnant of followers, he got away into a valley. Soon he saw in the west, north and south clouds of smoke rising and the glow of torches, so that he was forced to halt. However, the east remained clear, and presently he fled in that direction. As he was crossing the mouth of a gully, he noticed a few horsemen outlined against a thick wood and saw they were escorting a small carriage. And in that carriage sat Zhuge Liang. Zhuge Liang laughed, and said, “So King of the Mangs has got here! How does Heaven make you defeated so? I have waited for you a long time.” Meng Huo angrily turned to his followers and said, “Thrice have I been the victim of this man's base wiles and have been put to shame. Now chance has sent him across my path, and you must attack him with all your energy. Let us cut him to pieces and those with him.” The Mang horsemen, with Meng Huo shouting to encourage them, pushed forward in hot haste toward the wood. But in a few moments they all stumbled and disappeared into some pits that had been dug in the way. And just then Wei Yan emerged from the wood. One by one the Mangs were pulled out of the pits and bound tight with cords. Zhuge Liang returned to his camp, where the captors of the King could bring in their prisoner. Zhuge Liang busied himself in soothing the other Mang prisoners. Many of the notables and chiefs of the tributaries had betaken themselves to their own ravines and villages with their followers. Many of those who remained came over and yielded to Shu. They were well fed and assured of safety, and allowed to go to their own. They went off gladly enough. By and by Zhang Yi brought up the King's brother, Meng You. Zhuge Liang reproached him for his brother's behavior. “Your brother is a misguided simpleton; you ought to remonstrate with him and persuade him to change his course. I have captured him four times now, how can I see you again?"" A deep flush of shame passed over Meng You's face, and he threw himself to the earth begging forgiveness. Zhuge Liang said, “If I put you to death, it shall not be today. This time I pardon you, but you are to talk to your brother.” So Meng You was loosed from his bonds and allowed to get up. He went away weeping.","Here you are, a captive for the fourth time; are you not ashamed? How can you have the effrontery to look anyone in the face?”",1,0.01065251,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 The impudence of the accusations was only equaled by their surprise. He told him with the first word: “You, therefore, are a general, if you say so,” that is, in the sense that he could not even find scolding worse than a general. When Varvara Petrovna announced her idea of publishing a magazine, even more people rushed to her, but accusations immediately fell into her eyes that she was a capitalist and exploited labor. The honest were much more incomprehensible than the dishonest and rude; but it was not known who was in whose hands. It was clear that in this rabble new people are many swindlers, but there were undoubtedly many honest, even very attractive faces, despite some surprising shades. The aged General Ivan Ivanovich Drozdov, a former friend and colleague of the late General Stavrogin, a worthy man (but in his own way) and whom we all know here, extremely obstinate and irritable, who ate terribly much and was terribly afraid of atheism, argued at one of Varvara Petrovna's evenings with a famous young man.","It was clear that among this rabble of new people there were many swindlers, but it was also unquestionable that there were many honest and even quite attractive persons, despite certain nonetheless surprising nuances. The honest ones were far more incomprehensible than the rude and dishonest ones; but it was not clear who was making use of whom. When Varvara Petrovna announced her idea of publishing a magazine, still more people came flocking to her, but accusations also immediately flew in her face that she was a capitalist and an exploiter of labor. The unceremoniousness of the accusations was equaled only by their unexpectedness. The elderly general Ivan Ivanovich Drozdov, a former friend and fellow officer of the late general Stavrogin, a most worthy man (though in his own way), known to all of us here, extremely obstinate and irritable, who ate terribly much and was terribly afraid of atheism, began arguing at one of Varvara Petrovna's evenings with a famous young man. The latter said straight off: ""Well, you're a general if you talk like that,"" meaning that he could not even find any worse abuse than a general.",1,0.011331754,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 “How not to miss! So it seems to me that she thought, or rather felt, and it was impossible for her to think and feel otherwise: she was brought up in the fact that there is only one thing in the world worthy of attention - love. - She has gained weight since she stopped giving birth, and this illness - eternal suffering for children - began to pass; not only to pass, but she seemed to wake up from drunkenness, came to her senses and saw that there was a whole world of God with its joys, about which she had forgotten, but in which she did not know how to live, the world of God, which she did not understand at all. I'm a little tired, but I'll tell you. There's still plenty of time, it hasn't dawned yet. Time will pass, you won’t return!” Yes, sir,” he began again, lighting a cigarette. His face became completely different, his eyes were miserable, and a kind of strange almost smile wrinkled his lips.","His face had now altered completely; his eyes wore a beseeching expression, and something that might almost have been a smile creased his lips strangely. ‘I’m getting a bit tired, but I’ll tell you the rest of it. There’s a lot of time yet; if s still dark out there. Yes,’ he began once more, as he lit a cigarette. ‘ She’d rounded out a bit since she’d stopped having children, and that illness of hers – her constant suffering on account of the children – had begun to clear up; well, it didn’t really clear up, but it was as though she’d come to after a bout of drunkenness, as though she’d recovered her senses and realized that God’s world was still there with all its delights, the world she’d forgotten about and had no idea of how to live in, God’s world, of which she knew absolutely nothing. “I mustn’t let it slip! Time flies, and one doesn’t get it back again!” I reckon that’s the way she thought, or rather felt, and it was impossible she could have thought or felt any differently. She’d been brought up to believe that there was only one thing in the world worth bothering about – love.",1,0.011687259,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 But I was ashamed of myself and of myself! I myself was my own judge, and - O God, what was in my soul! But I will not describe this hellish, unbearable feeling and this consciousness of filth and vileness. But still, I must confess, because it seems that the time has come. This should be noted in my notes. So, let them know that I did not want to disgrace her and was going to be a witness of how she will give a ransom to Lambert (oh, meanness!), - not in order to save the crazy Versilov and return him to his mother, but in order ... that perhaps he himself was in love with her, in love and jealous! Jealous of whom: of Büring, of Versilov? To all those whom she will look at at the ball and with whom she will talk, while I will stand in the corner, ashamed of myself? .. Oh, disgrace!","Who was he jealous of: Björing, Versilov?",1,0.012053779,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 Silence. Not a person around, no lights, not a sound. I tell you, I have made myself available, and you have rejected me, you have repulsed me, and I turn my back on you for time and eternity because you did not know your visiting time. I tell you, you Holy Baal of Heaven, you do not exist, but if you existed, I would curse you so that your sky would vibrate with the fire of hell. Since it is of no use at all, no matter how hard I try, I sling my leg towards the gate, full of the most powerless hatred, raptured by rage, shouting and threatening violently at the sky, screaming hoarsely and penetratingly the name of God and bending my fingers like claws .. I am almost out of sense and collection, I gasp heavily and loudly for the breath and cry tooth-and-nail every time I have to sacrifice these meat fibers that might be able to satiate me a little. I'm telling you this, I know that I am going to die, and I mock you anyway, even face to face with death, you Apis in the sky! You have used force against me and you don't realize that force does not work with me. Couldn't you have seen that? Were you asleep when you made my heart and my soul? I am telling you this, all my energy and every drop of blood in me rejoices that I mock you and spit on your grace. From this hour on, I will renounce all your works and all your ways, I will exile my thoughts if they think of you again, and I will rip my lips out if they say your name once more. Now if you do exist, I will tell you my final word in life or in death, I tell you goodbye. And so I am dumb, and I turn my back on you, and I go my way. . . .","I was in a wild state, I breathed heavily and audibly, and sobbed, gnashing my teeth, every time I had to abandon these bits of meat which might have satisfied my hunger. When nothing helped, no matter how hard I tried, I threw the bone against the gate, maddened by the most impotent hatred. Carried away by rage, I shouted and roared threats up to the sky, shrieked God's name hoarsely and savagely, and curled my fingers like claws. . . . I'll tell you this, you sacred Baal in the sky, you do not exist, and if you do, I'll curse you so that your heaven will start shuddering with hellfire! I'm telling you this, you know I offered myself as your servant, and you rejected me , you pushed me away, and now I turn my back on you for all eternity because you did not know your time of visitation!",1,0.012053779,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 To me at least, the first question at the time, and long afterwards was: how Versilov could have brought himself to act in concert with a man like Lambert, and what were his objects in doing so? Little by little, I have arrived at an explanation of a sort; to my thinking, at those moments, that is, all that last day and the day before, Versilov can have had no definite aim, and I believe, indeed, he did not reflect on the matter at all, but acted under the influence of a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. But the theory of actual madness I cannot accept, especially as he is not in the least mad now. But the ""second self"" I do accept unquestionably. What exactly is a doppelgänger? The second self, according to a medical book, written by an expert, which I purposely read afterwards, is nothing else than the first stage of serious mental derangement, which may lead to something very bad. And in that scene at my mother's, Versilov himself had with strange frankness described the ""duality"" of his will and feelings. But I repeat again: though that scene at mother's and that broken ikon were undoubtedly partly due to the influence of a real ""second self,"" yet I have ever since been haunted by the fancy that there was in it an element of a sort of vindictive symbolism, a sort of resentment against the expectations of those women, a sort of angry revolt against their rights and their criticism. And so hand in hand with the ""second self"" he broke the ikon, as though to say ""that's how your expectations will be shattered!"" In fact, even though the ""second self"" did come in, it was partly simply a whim… . But all this is only my theory; it would be hard to decide for certain.",What is a second self exactly?,1,0.012053779,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 0 Baoyu saw that Xiren's eyes were reddish, pink and smooth, so she quietly asked Xiren, ""Why are you crying?"" Xiren smiled and said, ""Why are you crying, that's why you rubbed your eyes."" So she covered it up. At the moment, Baoyu was wearing a big red gold python fox armpit arrow sleeves, and an outer jacket of stone green mink fur. Xiren said, ""You came here especially to change your clothes, so they didn't ask you where you were going?"" Baoyu smiled and said, ""So it was Mr. Zhen who asked me to go to the show to change."" Xiren nodded. Then he said, ""Just sit down and go back. You didn't come here."" Baoyu smiled and said, ""It's better if you just go home, and I'll keep some good things for you."" Xiren whispered, "" Quietly, ask them to listen to what it means."" He stretched out his hand and took off the psychic jade from the jade neck, and smiled at his sisters: ""You have seen and seen. It is often said that it is rare, and I wish I could see it. Now you can look to your heart’s content. What a rare thing, it's just such a thing."" After saying that, he passed it to them and read it again, and still hung it with Baoyu. He ordered his brother to either hire a sedan or a car to take Baoyu back. Hua Zifang said: ""If I send it, it's okay to ride a horse."" Xiren said: ""It's okay if you don't, just to meet people.""",Erke will try his best to look at it again.,1,0.012241275,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 20 And how many carriages, brother, and all this en gros.[8] I played fortune [9]: I won two cans of lipstick, a china cup and a guitar; then again he set it once and scrolled, channel, more than six rubles. He came from God knows where, I also live here ... Kiss me, soul, death love you! Mizhuev, look, fate brought together: what is he to me or me to him?","But never mind. Embrace me. I like you immensely. Mizhuev, see how curiously things have turned out. Chichikov has nothing to do with me, or I with him, yet here is he come from God knows where, and landed in the very spot where I happen to be living! I may tell you that, no matter how many carriages I possessed, I should gamble the lot away. Recently I went in for a turn at billiards, and lost two jars of pomade, a china teapot, and a guitar. Then I staked some more things, and, like a fool, lost them all, and six roubles in addition.",1,0.012241275,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 “But this is absurd though! It’s out of the question! It’s impossible that officials could scare themselves so , could make up such nonsense, could stray so far from the truth when a child could have seen through it!” Many readers will say this, and will blame the author for improbability, or will call the poor officials fools, for man is lavish in the use of the word fool, and is ready to apply it to his neighbour twenty times a day. It is quite enough if out of ten points in his character he has one stupid one, for him to be set down as a fool in spite of his nine good points. It is easy for readers to criticise, looking down from their comfortable niche on the heights from which the whole horizon lies open, at all that is taking place below, where man can only see the object nearest to him. And in the history of humanity there are many whole centuries which he would , I fancy, strike out and suppress as unnecessary. Many mistakes have been made in the world which now one would hardly think a child could make. How many crooked, narrow, impassable blind alleys, leading far off the track, has mankind chosen in the effort to reach the eternal verity, while before him the straight road lay open like the road that leads to a magnificent mansion destined to be a royal palace! It is wider and more luxurious than all other paths, illuminated by the sun and illuminated by lights all night, but people flowed past it in the dead darkness. And how many times already induced by the meaning descending from heaven, they knew how to stagger back and stray to the side, they knew how in broad daylight to fall back into impenetrable backwoods, they knew how to throw a blind fog into each other’s eyes again and, dragging after the marsh lights, they knew how to get to the abyss, then to ask each other with horror: where is the exit, where is the road? The present generation sees everything clearly, marvels at the errors and laughs at the follies of its forefathers, not seeing that there are streaks of heavenly light in that history, that every letter in it cries aloud to them, that on all sides a pointing finger is turned upon it, upon the present generation. But the present generation laughs and proudly, self-confidently, enters upon a series of fresh errors at which their descendants will laugh again in their turn.","It is broader and more splendid than all the other paths, with the sun lighting it up by day and many lights by night. But men have streamed past it in blind darkness. And how many times even when guided by understanding that has been given them from heaven, they have managed even then to halt and go astray, have managed in the light of day to get into the impassable jungle, have managed to throw a blinding fog again over one another’s eyes, and lured by will-of-the-wisps have succeeded in reaching the brink of the abyss, only to ask one another with horror: “Where is the way out? Where is the road?”",1,0.012241275,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 Then already I began to experience the tides of those pleasures, which I already spoke about in the first chapter. After the incident with the officer, I began to be drawn there even more strongly: it was on the Nevsky that I met him the most, and it was there that I admired him. He also went there more on holidays. Although he also turned off the road in front of the generals and in front of high-ranking persons, and also wagged like a loach between them, but he simply crushed such as our brother, or even cleaner than our brother; walked straight towards them, as if there was an empty space in front of him, and in no case did he give way. I reveled in my anger, looking at him, and ... embittered in front of him every time I turned. I was tormented that even on the street I could not be on an equal footing with him. “Why is it you and not he? “Why must you invariably be the first to move aside?” I kept asking myself in hysterical rage, waking up sometimes at three o’clock in the morning. After all, there is no law for this, because it is not written anywhere? Well, let it be evenly divided, as usually happens when delicate people meet: he will give up half, and you will give in half, and you will pass, mutually respecting each other. But it wasn’t like that, and still I turned off, and he didn’t even notice that I was yielding to him. And then a most amazing thought suddenly dawned on me. “But what,” I thought, “what if I meet him and ... do not step aside? Don’t step aside on purpose, even if you have to push him: what will it be like?” This impudent thought gradually took possession of me to such an extent that it gave me no rest. I dreamed about it incessantly, terribly, and deliberately went to the Nevsky more often in order to imagine even more clearly how I would do it when I did it. I was delighted. More and more, this intention seemed to me both probable and possible. “Of course, not quite a push,” I thought, already kind with joy in advance, “but just don’t step aside, bump into him, not so much that it hurts very much, but like that, shoulder to shoulder, exactly as much as is determined by decency; so that as much as he hits me, so much I will hit him. I finally made up my mind. But the preparations took a very long time. The first is that during the performance it was necessary to be in a more decent form and take care of the costume. “Just in case, for example, if a public story starts (and the audience is superfluous here: {30} the Countess walks, Prince D. walks, all literature walks), you need to be well dressed; it inspires and directly puts us in some way on an equal footing in the eyes of high society. To this end, I begged a salary in advance and bought black gloves and a decent hat from Churkin. The black gloves seemed to me both more solid and more bonton than the lemon ones, which I had tried at first. ""The color is too harsh, too like a person wants to show off,"" and I did not take the lemon ones. A good shirt, with white bone cufflinks, I had prepared a long time ago; but she delayed the overcoat very much. By itself, my greatcoat was very good, warm; but it was wadded, and the collar was raccoon, which was already the height of servility. It was necessary to change the collar at all costs and get a beaver, sort of like the officers. To do this, I began to walk around Gostiny Dvor and, after several attempts, set my sights on one cheap German beaver. These German beavers, although they wear them out very soon and take on the most miserable appearance, but at first, from a new thing, they even look very decently; And after all me only for one times and need to was. I asked the price: it was still expensive. After careful consideration, I decided to sell my raccoon collar.","“Why do you always turn first? I molested myself, in a furious hysteria, sometimes waking up at three o'clock in the night. Why are you and not him?",1,0.01243165,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 The black women, with clothes around their middle, their dresses hiked up a little, some inside the tank, others outside, leaning over the articles of clothing, beating them, soaping them, twisting them, went on listening to Uncle Joéo’s jokes and commenting on them from time to time, saying: After a time the one who sought him out was I and he liked me a lot, gave me candy, took me for walks. At home, when he would come to spend a few days, it happened quite often that I would find him in the rear of the house in the laundry chatting with the slave girls who were washing clothes. ‘ That’s where he’d string together stories, comments, questions, and there’d be an explosion of laughter that nobody could hear because the laundry was too far away from the house.","At the end of a certain time, I was the one looking for him; and he was very fond of me , he gave me sweets, he took me for walks. At home, when I was going to spend a few days there, I often found him, at the back of the farm, in the wash, talking to the slaves who were washing clothes; That's where it was a string of anecdotes, sayings, questions, and a burst of laughter, which no one could hear, because the washhouse was a long way from home. The black women, with a loincloth on their stomachs, pulling up their dresses an inch, some inside the tank, others outside, bent over the garments, beating them, soaping them, wringing them, listening to and replying to Uncle João's jokes, and commenting on them from time to time with this word:",1,0.012624948,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 I opened the letter; well, it was the usual thing, saying: “Kind gentleman, a mother’s dying with three children hungry, so help us now, and as I am dying I will pray for you, my benefactor, in the next world for not forgetting my babes now.” He watched the German’s dolls dancing, while his own hands and feet were numb with cold; he shivered and nibbled the edge of his sleeve. At the clink of the coin the boy started, looked round and evidently thought that I had given the money. I noticed that he had a bit of paper of some sort in his hands. A gentleman passed and flung the hurdy-gurdy man some small coin, which fell straight into the box in a little garden in which the toy Frenchman was dancing with the ladies. He ran up to me, his little hands trembling, his little voice trembling, he held the paper out to me and said, “A letter.”","He stared in wonderment as the German is dolls danced; his own arms and legs were stiff with cold, he was shivering, and nibbling the end of one of his sleeves. I observed that he was holding a small sheet of paper in his hand. A gentleman walked by and threw the hurdy-gurdy man some coin of little value; it landed right inside the hurdy-gurdy man is box, which had a small surround on which was depicted a Frenchman dancing with some ladies. At the clink of the coin, the little boy gave a start and timidly looked round, evidently supposing that I had thrown the money. He came running up to me, his little hands trembling and his little voice quavering, held the sheet of paper out to me and said: ‘Here is a letter!’ I unfolded it. It was the usual thing: ‘ Dear Benefactor, a mother with children is dying, she has three and they are hungry, so if you will please help us, and not forget my little fledglings, when I die I will not forget you in the next world, my benefactor.’",1,0.012624948,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 60 As soon as they were heard, they suddenly ceased, as if cut short. The heat, which seemed to have intensified, was cold, though it was still heat. Through the crack between the window’s two shutters, the only visible tree displayed an exaggeratedly expectant attitude. The atmosphere, like a flower, had closed its petals. It had a different kind of green, which infused it with silence.","My eyes fill with tears, and the taste of chocolate mingles with the taste of my past happiness, my lost childhood, and I cling voluptuously to that sweet pain. The simplicity of this ritual tasting does not detract from the solemnity of the occasion. But it is cigarette smoke that most subtly rebuilds past moments for me. lt just barely touches my consciousness of having a sense of taste and that’s why, part wrapped in gauze, part transparent, it evokes hours to which I am now dead, makes far-off times present, makes them mistier the closer they wrap about me, more ethereal when I make them flesh. A mentholated cigarette or a cheap cigar can bathe in tenderness almost any moment from my past.",1,0.012821214,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 ‘I see,’ said Bao-yu to himself. ‘I wonder what the meaning of “passion that outlasts all time” can be. And what are “love’s debts ” ? From now on I must make an effort to understand these things.’ He could not, of course, have known it, but merely by thinking this he had invited the attentions of the demon Lust, and at that very moment a little of the demon’s evil poison had entered Bao-yu’s body and lodged itself in the innermost recesses of his heart. Wholly unconscious of his mortal peril, Bao-yu continued to follow the fairy woman. They passed through a second gateway, and Bao-yu saw a range of palace buildings ahead of them on either hand. The entrance to each building had a board above it proclaiming its name, and there were couplets on either side of the doorways. Bao-yu did not have time to read all of the names, but he managed to make out a few, viz: DEPARTMENT OF FOND INFATUATION DEPARTMENT OF CRUEL REJECTION DEPARTMENT OF EARLY MORNING WEEPING DEPARTMENT OF LATE NIGHT SOBBING DEPARTMENT OF SPRING FEVER DEPARTMENT OF AUTUMN GRIEF ‘Madam Fairy,’ said Bao-yu, whose interest had been whetted by what he had managed to read, ‘couldn’t you take me inside these offices to have a look around ?’ ‘In these offices,’ said the fairy woman, ‘are kept registers in which are recorded the past, present and future of girls from all over the world. It is not permitted that your earthly eyes should look on things that are yet to come.’ Bao-yu was most unwilling to accept this answer, and begged and pleaded so persistently that at last Disenchantment gave in. ‘Very well. You may make a very brief inspection of this office here.’ Delighted beyond measure, Bao-yu raised his head and read the notice above the doorway: DEPARTMENT OF THE ILL-FATED FAIR Spring hatred and autumn sorrow are all self-inflicted, and who is the beauty of the flower and the moon?"" ","The couplet inscribed vertically on either side of the doorway was as follows: Spring griefs and autumn sorrows were by yourselves provoked. Flower faces, moonlike beauty were to what end disclosed ?",1,0.013020489,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 Reading this document aloud, the old nobleman became so heated and moved that, even though what he read was quite contrary to my sentiments, he nevertheless aroused my admiration. He, too, in his way, had been a hero. I had another proof of his heroism in a story he chose to tell me: the story concerned a lily of gilded wood, also displayed there in the drawing room. On the morning of September 5, 1860, the King rode out of his palace in Naples in a little open landau with the Queen and two gentlemen of the court. When the carriage reached Via Chiaia, it had to stop because a number of wagons and carts were blocking the way, held up in front of a pharmacy which had these golden lilies on its sign. He, the Marquis d'Auletta, was at that moment passing by: indignant, furious, he had rushed into the pharmacy, had grabbed the coward by the collar of his jacket, had shown him the King outside, had then he spat in his face and, brandishing one of those detached lilies, he started shouting in the crowd: ""Long live the King!"" A ladder, leaning against the sign, prevented the passage. Some workers, having climbed that ladder, detached the lilies from the sign. The King noticed this and pointed with his hand to the Queen that act of cowardly prudence of the pharmacist, who in other times had also solicited the honor of embellishing his shop with that royal symbol. ","A ladder, propped up against the sign, was preventing the traffic from going on. Some workmen had climbed up the ladder and were removing the royal lilies. The King noticed this, and pointed out to the Queen this pharmacist's act of cowardly caution, this from a man who had once begged for the honor of putting the royal symbol on the front of his shop. The Marchese d’Auletta also happened to be passing by; furious, outraged, he rushed to the pharmacist, seized the coward by his coat collar and showed him the King, there in the carriage. Then the Marchese spat in the man’s face and, brandishing one of the lilies that had been removed, he shouted at the crowd: “Long live the King!”",1,0.01384861,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 20 To an old pater there came a little blondine, a Norman girl of about twenty. She stooped down and whispered her sin through the speak-hole. Beauty, curves, a perfect pose – enough to make one’s mouth water. Here is another instance for you, from just the other day. That very same night, upon returning home, the unhappy young man shot himself; I was with him constantly until the very last moment … But as for those Jesuit confession boxes, they really are the sweetest diversion I know in the melancholy minutes of life. ‘Mon ami, my intention was simply to make you laugh, but I swear to you that that is authentic Jesuit casuistry, and I also swear that it happened letter for letter as I have described it to you. This recent incident caused me a great deal of trouble.","“My friend, I only wanted to make you laugh, but I swear this is real Jesuit casuistry, and I swear it all happened letter for letter, as I have explained to you. This incident is recent and gave me a lot of trouble. The unhappy young man, returning home, shot himself the same night; I was with him inseparably until the last moment ... As for these Jesuit booths for confession, this is truly my sweetest entertainment in the sad moments of my life. Here's another case for you, just the other day. A blond girl, a Norman, about twenty, a girl comes to the old man's father. Beauty, body, nature - drooling. She bent down and whispered her sin into the hole to the pater.",1,0.0140636265,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 “Did you see it with your own eyes, you who were for so many years your master’s most trusted servant?” And once again Gregory repeated with stubborn insistence that he had seen the door leading into the garden open. Gregory replied that he had not seen it with his own eyes and that, in fact, he had not even heard about that money “until just now when everybody was talking about it.” But he emphatically, indeed almost heatedly, attested to Smerdyakov’s honesty, and told them about the time when Smerdyakov had found some money his master had dropped and had returned it, and how Fyodor Karamazov had given him a ten-ruble gold piece as a reward and had trusted him completely ever after. (By the way, Fetyukovich asked that question about the envelope with the money in it of every witness who was at all likely to know about it, just as persistently as the prosecutor asked about the settlement of the estate left by Mitya’s mother, and he received a series of similar answers to the effect that they had all heard of the envelope with the money in it, but that none of them had actually seen it. At last it was time for the defense counsel to cross-examine him, and the first thing Fetyukovich wanted to know was about “the envelope that allegedly contained three thousand rubles intended for a certain person.” The defense counsel’s insistence on that question was noted from the very beginning.) As to Mitya’s striking him in the face and knocking him down, Gregory said that he held no grudge for that and had forgiven him long ago. When questioned about Smerdyakov, Gregory crossed himself and said that “he was an able fellow, but stupid and pestered by his sickness and, worst of all, he was a godless man, and it was Mr. Karamazov and Mr. Ivan who taught him his godlessness.” But he was asked so many questions in the direct examination that I cannot remember them all.","He observed that he was not angry with Mitya for having knocked him down and struck him on the face; he had forgiven him long ago, he said. Of the deceased Smerdyakov he observed, crossing himself, that he was a lad of ability, but stupid and afflicted, and, worse still, an infidel, and that it was Fyodor Pavlovitch and his elder son who had taught him to be so. But he defended Smerdyakov's honesty almost with warmth, and related how Smerdyakov had once found the master's money in the yard, and, instead of concealing it, had taken it to his master, who had rewarded him with a ""gold piece"" for it, and trusted him implicitly from that time forward. He maintained obstinately that the door into the garden had been open. But he was asked so many questions that I can't recall them all. At last the counsel for the defense began to cross-examine him, and the first question he asked was about the envelope in which Fyodor Pavlovitch was supposed to have put three thousand roubles for ""a certain person."" ""Have you ever seen it, you, who were for so many years in close attendance on your master?"" Grigory answered that he had not seen it and had never heard of the money from any one ""till everybody was talking about it. "" This question about the envelope Fetyukovitch put to every one who could conceivably have known of it, as persistently as the prosecutor asked his question about Dmitri's inheritance, and got the same answer from all, that no one had seen the envelope, though many had heard of it. From the beginning every one noticed Fetyukovitch's persistence on this subject.",1,0.0140636265,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 They had declared, the heads, in the accents of a corps-student, that they were on track of the actual causes of the instability of Hans Castorp’s heating economy. And those causes, according to their scientific pronouncement, were so easy to come at that a veritable cure and legitimate dismissal to the flat-land had leaped into the foreground. Blinking and paling slightly, he admired the glorious ruby red of his lifeblood, which increasingly filled the clear container. The young man's heart beat fast, assailed by manifold emotions, as he stretched out his arm to bleed. The Hofrat himself, assisted by Dr. Krokowski and a Sister of Mercy, performed the slight but portentous operation. Then passed several days, occupied in Hans Castorp’s mind with the question how this blood of his, this part of himself, would behave out of his control and under the eye of science.","The young man’s heart throbbed stormily with manifold emotions, when he stretched out his arm for the blood-letting. Going slightly pale, and blinking, he expressed his admiration for the splendid ruby colour of his life-blood, as it mounted in the glass container.",1,0.014281935,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 Without really wanting to, they pay visits, hold conversations, work fixed office hours – all of it compulsorily, mechanically, against their will. It could all be done just as well by machines, or not done at all. And it is this perpetual mechanical motion that prevents them from criticizing their own lives in the way I do, from realizing and feeling just how stupid and shallow, how horribly, grotesquely questionable, how hopelessly sad and barren their existence is. In my fury I managed to cut my chin with the razor in the same old place again. I spent some time cauterizing the wound, but I still had to replace the clean collar I had just put on. At the same time I was thinking to myself: just as I am now getting dressed, going out to visit the professor and exchange polite remarks with him – all the opposite of what I really want to do – so most human beings spend their lives acting compulsorily, day after day, hour after hour. They would also have given a lot to be able to utter just one single sincere, serious word of mourning and despair over the demise of this world, instead of which they had no alternative but to stand with awkward grins on their faces around its grave. However, one part of Harry was putting on an act again, calling the professor a likeable chap, yearning for a whiff of humanity, a chance to chat, and good company. Recalling that the professor had a pretty wife, this part of Harry was, in spite of everything, basically cheered up by the thought of spending the evening with such friendly hosts. He helped me stick a plaster on my chin and put on a decent tie, thus gently persuading me to abandon my real wish, which was to stay at home. I had absolutely no idea why I was doing all this since I hadn’t the least desire to go to the professor’s.","And nothing was left them but the embarrassed grimaces of a company round a grave. As I raged on like this I cut my chin in the usual place and had to apply a caustic to the wound; and even so there was my clean collar , scarce put on, to change again, and all this for an invitation that did not give me the slightest pleasure. And yet a part of me began play-acting again, calling the professor a sympathetic fellow, yearning after a little talk and intercourse with my fellow men, reminding me of the professor's pretty wife, prompting me to believe that an evening spent with my pleasant host and hostess would be in reality positively cheering, helping me to clap some court plaster to my chin, to put on my clothes and tie my tie well, and gently putting me, in fact, far from my genuine desire of staying at home. Whereupon it occurred to me—so it is with every one. Just as I dress and go out to visit the professor and exchange a few more or less insincere compliments with him, without really wanting to at all, so it is with the majority of men day by day and hour by hour in their daily lives and affairs. Without really wanting to at all, they pay calls and carry on conversations, sit out their hours at desks and on office chairs; and it is all compulsory, mechanical and against the grain, and it could all be done or left undone just as well by machines; and indeed it is this never-ceasing machinery that prevents their being, like me, the critics of their own lives and recognizing the stupidity and shallowness, the hopeless tragedy and waste of the lives they lead, and the awful ambiguity grinning over it all.",1,0.014281935,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 People do not know who the scavenger is bringing in the closet! So they talk nonsense. Yet, the god of madness does not have to make himself so disgusting. Cheesy! Sitting on the couch and disappearing into the place of the queen of the spoiler and going to town? Is this what masculinity is all about? And how would he protect a kingdom obtained this way? Would he not have to depend on Pazhuvettarayar and the others? Would he not have to conform to their wishes while he reigned? In this matter, not even what the Emperor Sundara Chozhar was doing was commendable. Must he earn a kingdom this way? He should not have given so much power and influence to people like the repairman.",Want to earn such a kingdom? Can he save the kingdom he has earned like this? Should the administration of the kingdom be subordinated to the plunderers and others? What the Sundara Chola emperor is doing in this matter is not so silly!,1,0.014281935,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 A great variety of additions occurred in the ladies’ attire. Along with that, something was said which was even rather insulting with regard to the slim man: that he was nothing more than a sort of toothpick, and not a man. There was crowding in the shopping district, almost a crush; a fête even formed itself from all the carriages driving through. The millionaire has this advantage, that he is able to observe meanness, a perfectly disinterested, pure meanness, not based on any calculations: many know very well that they will not get anything from him and have no right to get anything, but they want to be sure at least to run ahead for him, at least to laugh, at least to doff their hats, at least to wangle themselves an invitation to dinner where they know the millionaire has been invited. It cannot be said that this tender inclination to meanness was felt by the ladies; nevertheless, in many drawing rooms there was talk of Chichikov being, not outstandingly handsome, of course, but still such as a man ought to be, that if he were any fuller or fatter, it would be not so good.","The millionaire has one great advantage: he can witness meanness that is utterly disinterested, meanness pure and unadulterated, meanness not based upon any ulterior motives whatsoever; many know very well that they won t get a thing out of him and that they aren’t entitled to anything, yet they’ll never fail at least to catch his eye, or to laugh ingratiatingly, or to doff their hats, or to wangle an invitation to the dinner to which, as they have learned, the millionaire has been invited. It can’t be said that this tender predisposition to meanness had been experienced by the ladies; however, in many of the drawing rooms they began saying that while Chichikov was not, of course, the handsomest of men, he was, just the same, all that a man should be, that were he but a little fatter (or stouter, rather) it would be a pity. In connection with this something would be said, even quite offensively somehow, concerning the man who was decidedly thin, that he was something in the nature of a toothpick rather than a man. Many and sundry additional touches appeared on the attire of the ladies. There was a great stir at the shopping arcade, almost a crush. There was something very like a parade of carriages, so many of them had gathered there.",1,0.0145035805,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 EVERYTHING GREW completely quiet as the famous orator’s first words resounded. The eyes of all the spectators were fastened on him. He started simply, directly, with an air of sincere conviction and without a trace of conceit. He made no attempt at eloquence, at emotional modulations, at pathos, or at dramatic phrasemaking. He sounded like a man trying to explain something to intimate friends. His voice was beautiful—warm and powerful—and in itself conveyed sincerity and frankness. Nevertheless, everyone present felt that if he chose to, the speaker could suddenly raise himself to the summits of true pathos and strike at their hearts with uncanny power. His language was perhaps more colloquial than the prosecutor’s, but it was also more precise, and he avoided long and involved sentences. There was one thing in his manner, however, of which the ladies did not approve —that was the way he bent his back. At the beginning of his speech, in particular, it looked as if he were not just bowing to the spectators, but preparing to rush or fly toward them. He obtained that effect by folding his long, thin back roughly in the middle, as if he had a hinge in it that enabled him to keep it bent almost at right angles. At first, he seemed to skip from one subject to another, as though stumbling on topics at random, without any system. Eventually, however, everything fell neatly into its proper place. His speech can be roughly divided into two parts: first, the refutation of the accusation, during which he sometimes used sarcasm and sometimes malice; and the second part, in which he suddenly changed both his tone and his manner and quickly raised himself to the summits of pathos, and when this happened, the audience responded at once with a quiver of delight, as if they had all been waiting for just that. He went straight to the point by announcing that, although he usually practiced in Petersburg, he sometimes agreed to go to other towns to defend people of whose innocence he was either certain or at least instinctively convinced. “And this is just such as case,” he said, “for the very first newspaper reports suggested something to me that was very much in favor of the accused. There was a certain legal problem that interested me here, and, although similar problems occur quite often in legal practice, I believe I have never seen this one appear so fully, with all its characteristic aspects, as here. I should really have kept this point for the end of my speech, for my final summation, but I will explain my idea now, at the outset, because I have a weakness for going straight to the point, without trying to save any possible effect for later, without economizing my ammunition. I may be accused of improvidence, but at least no one can say that I am not straightforward. I at once hurried here and here became finally convinced. You see, it is in order to smash this terrible weight of the facts and to demonstrate the unproven and fantastic nature of each incriminatory fact taken separately that I have taken it upon myself to defend this case.’ This reflection, this formula of mine is the following: the overwhelming weight of the facts is against the defendant and yet at the same time not one of those facts will withstand criticism if it is examined in isolation, on its own! As I followed the case further by means of rumours and the newspapers, I grew more and more confirmed in my reflection, and suddenly from the kinsfolk of the accused I received a request to defend him. ","This idea of mine is that, while I concede that the sum total of facts does point to the guilt of the accused, there is not one single fact that could be considered unassailable if taken individually. The more I read and heard about this case, the more this impression was confirmed. And then one day the family of the accused approached me and asked me to handle his defense. I accepted immediately and now I am completely convinced that my first impressions were absolutely correct. I accepted the case in order to destroy that frightening collection of facts by exposing them, one by one, as unproven and far-fetched.”",1,0.014728613,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 ""Ah, yes—you were going away just now, and I thought to myself: 'I shall never see these people again-never again! This is the last time I shall see the trees, too. I shall see nothing after this but the red brick wall of Meyer's house opposite my window. Tell them about it—try to tell them,' I thought. ' Here is a beautiful young girl—you are a dead man; make them understand that. Tell them that a dead man may say anything—and Mrs. Grundy will not be angry—ha-ha! You are not laughing?"" He looked anxiously around. "" But you know I get so many queer ideas, lying there in bed. I have grown convinced that nature is full of mockery —you called me an atheist just now, but you know this nature… why are you laughing again? You are very cruel!"" he said suddenly with sad indignation, looking round at them all. ‘I’ve not been corrupting Kolya,’ he concluded in a completely different tone, serious and with conviction, as though he had suddenly also remembered this. ","he added suddenly, regarding them all with mournful reproach. ""I have not corrupted Colia,"" he concluded in a different and very serious tone, as if remembering something again.",1,0.014728613,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 Bewildered and distracted, he knew not where he went. After walking a few steps, he found himself upon the Pont Saint-Michel. There was a light at the window of a room on the ground-floor; he went up to it. Through a cracked pane he saw a dirty room, which roused a vague memory in his brain. In this room, dimly lighted by a small lamp, there was a fresh, fair-haired, merry-faced youth, who with loud bursts of laughter kissed a gaudily-dressed girl; and near the lamp sat an old woman spinning and singing in a cracked voice. As the young man did not always laugh, the old woman's song reached the priest in tatters. It was something unintelligible and awful. ","As the young man occasionally ceased laughing, fragments of the old woman’s song reached the priest; it was something unintelligible and frightful:—",1,0.014957086,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 And these last three words, spoken with considerable emphasis, sent a quiver of admiration and astonishment through all assembled. This affable, artless man not only sparred with poets, but also discoursed with duchesses! A Bocage and a Cadaval! At coming into contact with such a man, the ladies felt themselves superbly refined; the men looked on him with respect, some with envy, not a few with incredulity. He, all the while, sailed along, piling adjective upon adjective, adverb upon adverb, running through all of the rhymes for tyrant and usurper. Dessert had come; nobody thought of eating. In between glosses, there came a cheerful murmur, the chatter of satisfied stomachs; languid and moist eyes, or lively and bright ones, sprawled out or darted up and down the table, which was crowded with sweets and fruits: here slices of pineapple, there cuts of melon, the glass serving dishes revealing the finely grated coconut sweet, gleaming yolk-yellow; farther along, the dark, thick molasses, not far from the cheese and the sweet yams. Now and then a jovial, hearty, unselfconscious laugh, the way one laughs when among family, would come to break through the political solemnity of the banquet. Alongside the grand common interest, smaller, personal matters stirred as well. The young ladies spoke of the songs they would sing at the harpsichord, of minuets and English solo dancing; and there was, of course, a matron who swore she’d dance a measure or two, just to show how she’d made merry in her girlhood. A guy next to me was giving another recent news about the new blacks who were coming, according to letters he had received from Luanda, a letter in which his nephew told him he had already traded about forty heads, and another letter in which… He had them right in his pocket, but he couldn't read them on that occasion. What he did hazard is that this journey alone would bring us some hundred and twenty blacks at the very least.","A fellow next to me was telling another the latest about the new blacks that were coming in, according to letters he’d received from Luanda, one letter in which his nephew reported he’d already acquired around forty, and another letter in which . . . He was carrying them right there in his pocket, but couldn’t read them out just yet.",1,0.014957086,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 60 I have mentioned this hurdy-gurdy man, little mother, because today I have had occasion to experience an especially keen sense of my own poverty. I had stopped to look at the hurdy-gurdy man. There were all these thoughts swarming about in my head – so, in order to divert myself, I stopped. Among the spectators, apart from myself, there were some cabbies, some prostitute or other, and a little girl who was all covered in grime. The hurdy-gurdy man had stationed himself in front of the windows of someone is house. I noticed a street-urchin, a little boy, who must have been about ten; he would have been pretty, but he looked so weak and ill; he was dressed in a shirt and not much else, and stood there practically barefoot, listening to the music open-mouthed – like the child he was! He stared in wonderment as the German is dolls danced; his own arms and legs were stiff with cold, he was shivering, and nibbling the end of one of his sleeves. I observed that he was holding a small sheet of paper in his hand. A gentleman walked by and threw the hurdy-gurdy man some coin of little value; it landed right inside the hurdy-gurdy man is box, which had a small surround on which was depicted a Frenchman dancing with some ladies. At the clink of the coin, the little boy gave a start and timidly looked round, evidently supposing that I had thrown the money. He came running up to me, his little hands trembling and his little voice quavering, held the sheet of paper out to me and said: ‘Here is a letter!’ I unfolded it. It was the usual thing: ‘ Dear Benefactor, a mother with children is dying, she has three and they are hungry, so if you will please help us, and not forget my little fledglings, when I die I will not forget you in the next world, my benefactor.’ Well, that was clear enough, there was nothing unusual about it, but what did I have to give them? So I didn’t give them anything. But how sorry I felt for him! The boy looked so wretched, he was blue with cold and probably hungry as well, and he was in earnest, oh yes, he was in earnest; I know a bit about these things. What is bad is that these scurvy mothers don’t look after their children and go sending them out with letters half-naked in cold weather like this. Perhaps she is a stupid peasant woman with no strength of character; and perhaps she has no one to go out and work for her, so she just sits cross-legged and is genuinely ill. But she could still apply in the quarters where such cases are dealt with. On the other hand, perhaps she is just a fraud, purposely sending a hungry, feeble child out to dupe people, and thereby making him ill. And what does the poor boy learn from handing out these letters? His heart merely grows hardened; he goes around, runs up to people, begging. The people are going about their business, and they have no time. Their hearts are stony; their words are cruel: ‘Be off with you! Go away! You won’t make a monkey out of me!’ That is what he hears from everyone is lips. His child is heart grows hardened, and the poor frightened boy shivers for nothing in the cold, like a little bird that has fallen out of a broken nest. His arms and legs are frozen; he gasps for breath. The next time you see him, he is coughing; it is not long before illness, like some unclean reptile, creeps into his breast, and when you look again, death is already standing over him in some stinking corner somewhere, and there is no way out, no help at hand – there you have his entire life! That is what life can be like! Oh, Varenka, it is so agonizing to hear those words ‘For the love of Christ’, and to walk on, and give the boy nothing, to say to him: ‘God will provide.’ Some ‘For the love of Christ’ are not so bad. (There are various kinds of them, little mother.) Others are long-drawn-out, habitual, studied – a beggar is stock-in-trade; it is not so hard to refrain from giving to one of those – he is an inveterate beggar, one of long standing, a beggar by trade; he’s used to it, you think , he’ll get over it, he knows how to get over it. But another will be unpractised, coarse, terrible – as today when, just as I was about to take the letter from the boy, a man standing by the fence, who was selecting the people he asked for money, said to me: ‘Give me a half-a-copeck, barin, for the love of Christ!’ in such a rude, abrupt voice that I shuddered with a sense of terrible emotion, but did not give him a half-copeck: I didn’t have one. And then again, there’s the fact that rich people don’t like the poor to complain of their lot out loud – they say they are causing trouble, being importunate! Yes, poverty is always importunate – perhaps those groans of hunger keep the rich awake!","No, no, he was not lying.",1,0.015189049,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 You can imagine the rapture, the gratitude, the tears of gratitude! Platon, yesterday’s crushed and dead Platon, sobs on my breast. Alas! All husbands have been like that since the creation … of lawful wedlock! ‘Now that, my dear man, is another matter,’ he says, ‘good, noble, and pleasing to God. And, you know, I liked him, this Russian old man, Russian to the root, so to speak, de la vraie souche.f Delighted with my success, I immediately set out on the way back; we made a detour to avoid meeting Petya. As soon as I arrived, I sent the bouquet in to Anfisa Alexeevna, who was just waking up. ‘In that case, my esteemed sir,’ I say, ‘give the hundred roubles to the local hospital, for the improvement of conditions and food.’ I’ll give it for the sake of your health.’","' Oh, if that's the case, give it to the village hospital,' I say. ' Ah,' he says, 'that's quite a different matter; that's good of you and generous. I'll pay it in there for you with pleasure.' I liked that old fellow, Russian to the core, de la vraie souche. I went home in raptures, but took another road in order to avoid Peter. Immediately on arriving I sent up the bouquet for Anfisa to see when she awoke. ""You may imagine her ecstasy, her gratitude. The wretched Platon, who had almost died since yesterday of the reproaches showered upon him, wept on my shoulder.",1,0.015424551,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 All this struck me, Makar Alekseevich. I have brought you such misfortunes that you have not experienced before in your modest and solitary life. misfortune is a contagious disease. The unfortunate and the poor need to stay away from each other, so as not to become even more infected. But now I know everything. Ah, my friend! Explain to me what it all means? You write that you were afraid to open up to me, that you were afraid to lose my friendship with your confession, that you were in despair, not knowing how to help me in my illness, that you sold everything to support me and not let me go to the hospital, that you owed as much debt as possible, and you have troubles with your landlady every day - but by hiding all this from me, you have chosen the worst. You were ashamed to force me to confess that I was the cause of your unfortunate situation, and now you have brought me twice as much grief with your behavior. All this tortures and kills me. Your story with these officers also frightens me; I have heard a lot about her.","I am alarmed about your affair with those officers, too; I have heard a vague account of it. Do explain what it all means. You write that you were afraid to tell me, that you were afraid to lose my affection by your confession, that you were in despair, not knowing how to help me in my illness, that you sold everything to keep me and prevent my going to hospital, that you got into debt as far as you possibly could, and have unpleasant scenes every day with your landlady—but you made a mistake in concealing all this from me. Now I know it all, however. You were reluctant to make me realise that I was the cause of your unhappy position, and now you have caused me twice as much grief by your behaviour. All this has shocked me, Makar Alexyevitch. Oh, my dear friend! misfortune is an infectious disease, the poor and unfortunate ought to avoid one another, for fear of making each other worse. I have brought you trouble such as you knew nothing of in your old humble and solitary existence. All this is distressing and killing me.",1,0.015424551,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 40 AT FIRST TILL WE—that is mother and I—had grown used to our new home we both felt strange and miserable at Anna Fyodorovna’s. Anna Fyodorovna lived in a house of her own in Sixth Row. There were only five living-rooms in the house. In three of them lived Anna Fyodorovna and my cousin Sasha, a child who was being brought up by her, an orphan, fatherless and motherless. Then we lived in one room, and in the last room, next to ours, there was a poor student called Pokrovsky who was lodging in the house. Anna Fyodorovna lived very well, in a more wealthy style than one could have expected; but her fortune was mysterious and so were her pursuits. She was always in a bustle, was always full of business, she drove out and came back several times a day; but what she was doing, what she was in a fuss about and with what object she was busy I could never make out. She had a large and varied circle of acquaintances. Visitors were always calling upon her, and the queerest people, always on business of some sort and to see her for a minute. Mother always carried me off to my room as soon as the bell rang. Anna Fyodorovna was horribly vexed with mother for this and was continually repeating that we were too proud, that we were proud beyond our means, that we had nothing to be proud about, and she would go on like that for hours together. I did not understand these reproaches at the time and, in fact, it is only now that I have found out, or rather that I guess why mother could not make up her mind to live with Anna Fyodorovna. Anna Fyodorovna was a spiteful woman, she was continually tormenting us. To this day it is a mystery to me why it was she invited us to live with her. At first she was fairly nice to us, but afterwards she began to show her real character as soon as she saw we were utterly helpless and had nowhere else to go. Later on she became very affectionate to me, even rather coarsely affectionate and flattering, but at first I suffered in the same way as mother. Every minute she was upbraiding us, she did nothing but talk of her charitable deeds. She introduced us to outsiders as her poor relations—a helpless widow and orphan to whom in the kindness of her heart, out of Christian charity, she had given a home. At meals she watched every morsel we took, while if we did not eat, there would be a fuss again; she would say we were fastidious, that we should not be over-nice, that we should be thankful for what we had; that she doubted if we had had anything better in our own home. She was continually abusing father, saying that he wanted to be better than other people and much good that had done him; that he had left his wife and daughter penniless and that if they had not had a benevolent relation, a Christian soul with a feeling heart, then, God knows, they might have been rotting in the street and dying of hunger. What did she not say! It was not so much painful as disgusting to hear her. Mother was continually crying; her health grew worse from day to day. She was visibly wasting, yet she and I worked from morning till night, taking in sewing, which Anna Fyodorovna very much disliked, she was continually saying that she was not going to have her house turned into a dressmaker’s shop. But we had to have clothes; we had to lay by for unforeseen expenses; it was absolutely necessary to have money of our own. We saved on the off-chance, hoping we might be able in time to move elsewhere. But mother lost what little health was left her over work; she grew weaker every day. The disease sucked the life out of her like a worm and hurried her to the grave. I saw it all, I felt it all, I realised it all and suffered; it all went on before my eyes.","But it was necessary to dress, it was necessary to put aside for unforeseen expenses, it was imperative to have your own money.",1,0.015906392,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 Awake: moderate, bluish light; glittering glass walls, glass chairs, table. It calmed her down and her heart stopped beating. I … Is it possible that my brain, this precise, clean, glittering mechanism, like a chronometer without a speck of dust on it, is …? Yes, it is, now. They say that to see dreams was a common normal thing with the ancients. I am sick Yes, after all, their life was a whirling carousel: green, orange, Buddha, sap. How absurd! Sap! Buddha! But we, people of today, we know all too well that dreaming is a serious mental disease. , it is clear; I never saw dreams before. I really feel there in the brain some foreign body like an eyelash in the eye. One does not feel one’s whole body, but this eye with a hair in it; one cannot forget it for a second.… ","Sok, Buddha... what an absurdity? Obviously sick. I have never dreamed before. They say that among the ancients it was the most ordinary and normal thing - to dream. Well, yes: after all, their whole life was such a terrible carousel: green - orange - Buddha - juice. But we know that dreams are a serious mental illness. And I know: until now, my brain was a chronometrically verified, sparkling, without a single mote mechanism, but now ... Yes, now it’s exactly like this: I feel there, in the brain, some kind of foreign body - like the thinnest ciliary hair in the eye: everything you feel yourself, but this eye with a hair - you can’t forget about it for a second ...",1,0.016152835,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 ""Of course,"" said the woman, ""my husband is a court clerk. "" It was only now that K. noticed that the room that had previously only had a washtub was now a fully furnished living room. The woman noticed his astonishment and said: ""Yes, we have a vacant apartment here, but we have to clear the room on meeting days. My husband's position has a number of disadvantages."" ""I'm not so surprised about the room,"" said K., glaring at her, ""as much as about the fact that you're married."" ""Perhaps you're playing on what happened in the last one meeting during which I interrupted your speech?” asked the woman. ' Of course,' said K., 'it's over now and almost forgotten, but at the time it made me downright angry. And now you say yourself that you are a married woman.' ' The way they talked about you after you'd gone was really bad."" ""It wasn't any disadvantage for you to have your speech interrupted. ",It was not to your detriment that her speech was cut short. Afterwards they were judged very unfavorably.”,1,0.016657041,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 ‘I see,’ said Bao-yu to himself. ‘I wonder what the meaning of “passion that outlasts all time” can be. And what are “love’s debts ” ? From now on I must make an effort to understand these things.’ He could not, of course, have known it, but merely by thinking this he had invited the attentions of the demon Lust, and at that very moment a little of the demon’s evil poison had entered Bao-yu’s body and lodged itself in the innermost recesses of his heart. Wholly unconscious of his mortal peril, Bao-yu continued to follow the fairy woman. They passed through a second gateway, and Bao-yu saw a range of palace buildings ahead of them on either hand. The entrance to each building had a board above it proclaiming its name, and there were couplets on either side of the doorways. Bao-yu did not have time to read all of the names, but he managed to make out a few, viz: DEPARTMENT OF FOND INFATUATION DEPARTMENT OF CRUEL REJECTION DEPARTMENT OF EARLY MORNING WEEPING DEPARTMENT OF LATE NIGHT SOBBING DEPARTMENT OF SPRING FEVER DEPARTMENT OF AUTUMN GRIEF ‘Madam Fairy,’ said Bao-yu, whose interest had been whetted by what he had managed to read, ‘couldn’t you take me inside these offices to have a look around ?’ ‘In these offices,’ said the fairy woman, ‘are kept registers in which are recorded the past, present and future of girls from all over the world. It is not permitted that your earthly eyes should look on things that are yet to come.’ Bao-yu was most unwilling to accept this answer, and begged and pleaded so persistently that at last Disenchantment gave in. ‘Very well. You may make a very brief inspection of this office here.’ Delighted beyond measure, Bao-yu raised his head and read the notice above the doorway: DEPARTMENT OF THE ILL-FATED FAIR Upon one’s self are mainly brought regrets in spring and autumn gloom; A face, flowerlike may be and moonlike too; but beauty all for whom? ","The couplet inscribed vertically on either side of the doorway was as follows: Spring griefs and autumn sorrows were by yourselves provoked. Flower faces, moonlike beauty were to what end disclosed ?",1,0.016657041,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 ""H'm! and he receives a good salary, I'm told. Well, what should you get but disgrace and misery if you took a wife you hated into your family (for I know very well that you do hate me)? , you do detest me, don’t you! Well, now I can see how someone like that could kill for money! They’ve all been so overcome by greed, they’re so fixated on money, they’ve gone completely crazy. He’s still wet behind the ears, but already wants to go into the moneylending business! Or else he’d wrap a razor in a piece of silk, creep up from behind and slash a friend to death as though he were no more than a grazing sheep, something I read recently. No, no! I may be shameless, but you are far worse. I don't say a word about that other—""","No, no! I believe now that a man like you would murder anyone for money— sharpen a razor and come up behind his best friend and cut his throat like a sheep —I've read of such people. Everyone seems money-mad nowadays.",1,0.01678549,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 At home, first of all, I read most of all. I wanted to drown out everything that constantly boiled inside me with external sensations. And from external sensations, only one reading was possible for me. Reading, of course, helped a lot - it excited, delighted and tormented. But at times it was terribly boring. Still, I wanted to move, and I suddenly plunged into the dark, underground, ugly - not depravity, but debauchery. Passions in me were sharp, burning from my constant painful irritability. The impulses were hysterical, with tears and convulsions. There was nowhere to go but reading—that is, there was nothing for me to respect then in my surroundings and to which I would be drawn. Boiled, moreover, melancholy; there was a hysterical thirst for contradictions, contrasts, and so I set about debauchery. I didn’t just say so much to justify my just now ... But, by the way, no! lied! I just wanted to justify myself. This is for myself, gentlemen, making a note. I have given my word… I won’t lie. ",I don't want to lie. He gave the word.,1,0.016914913,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 He turned quickly and began to walk to the front. You must do it properly, and without being detected.” “That’s easy,” said Pilgrim. “Old Monkey will go, and they will be at the reach of his hands!” Eight Rules caught hold of him and said, “Elder Brother, I heard them talking in the room, and they mentioned something about using a gold mallet to knock down the fruits. Instead, they hid them from us. Just now in the room next door, each had a fruit to himself and finished it with great relish. I know you are quite tricky. How about going to their garden and stealing a few for us to have a taste of them?” I got so excited that I was drooling, wondering how I could have a taste of this fruit.","He hid it from us, so he sat in the next room, one by one, and ate it out, making my mouth water in urgency. How to get a new one? I think you're a little rambunctious, go steal some from his garden and try it, how about that? The walker said: ""This is easy, Lao Sun will go and capture it. He pulled away in a hurry and walked forward. Bajie grabbed it and said, ""Brother, I heard him say in this room that he would use some kind of gold hammer to beat him. "" It must be done properly, and it must not be exposed to the wind.",1,0.017045317,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 So why bother? My deeds, whatever they may be, will all be forgotten - sooner, later, and I will not be. Not today - tomorrow illnesses will come, death (and have already come) on loved ones, on me, and nothing will remain but stench and worms. All this has been known to everyone for so long. But whether or not there is this someone who laughs at me, it does not make me feel better. How can a person not see this and live - that's what's amazing! I could not give any rational meaning to any act, nor to my whole life. I was only surprised how I could not understand this at the very beginning. You can only live as long as you’re drunk with life; but when you sober up, you can’t help but see that all this is just a fraud, and a stupid fraud. Precisely that: there’s nothing even amusing or witty about it; it’s simply cruel and stupid.","But whether there is or isn’t this somebody who was laughing at me gave me no relief. I couldn’t attribute any intelligent meaning to a single act or to the whole of my life. I was surprised that I couldn’t understand that at the very beginning. All this had been known to everyone for so long. One day sickness and death will come (and have come) to my loved ones, to myself, and nothing will remain but stink and worms. My works, of whatever kind, will all be forgotten sooner or later, and I too will not exist. So why worry? How can a man see this and go on living —that is what’s astonishing.",1,0.01798621,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 And then something happened. Once, when Maxim left the room, the boy put down his book, jumped up on a chair to get his ball, which he'd thrown on top of the sideboard. As he was reaching for it, his sleeve caught in a china lamp that fell to the floor smashing into a thousand pieces so that the whole house resounded. It was an expensive Saxony china lamp. Maxim, who was two rooms away, heard the crash and roared with anger. The boy, frightened to death, rushed out onto the verandah, then into the garden, and started running, not knowing where he was going. He crossed the garden, went out the back gate, and reached the riverbank where there was a sort of promenade along the river lined with old willow trees, a pretty place. People saw the boy run down to the water, to the jetty where the ferry was tied, stretch his arms toward the water, and then stop dead, terrified. The river was wide at that spot and the current was swift and barges were passing. . . . On the opposite bank of the river there was a square with shops and a church with the sun shining on its golden cupolas. And it so happened that, just at that moment, the wife of Colonel Ferzing, the commanding officer of the infantry regiment stationed in the town, came down to take the ferry. The daughter, also a child of about eight years old, walks in a little white dress, looks at the boy and laughs, and in her hands she carries such a small village purse, and in a purse a hedgehog. In that basket was a hedgehog. ""Mummy, why is that little boy looking at my hedgehog like that?"" ""No, darling,"" Mrs. Ferzing said, ""he seems to have been frightened by something. . . . What frightened you like that, nice little boy? (That's exactly what she called him, as all those who heard her repeated later.) Ah, you are such a nice and pretty little boy and you're so beautifully dressed! Whose boy are you? "" The little boy, who'd never seen a hedgehog before, came closer and was staring at it. He'd forgotten all his troubles by now, for that's how young children are. ""What's that you have there?"" ""It's a hedgehog,"" the little girl said; ""we just bought it from a peasant who found it in the forest."" ""What's a hedgehog?"" the little boy said, and he was already laughing and poking his finger into the animal, who put up its bristles, and the little girl was laughing happily, looking at the boy. ""We're going to take him home and tame him,"" she said. "" Ah . . . Please can I have your hedgehog? "" The way he asked sounded as if he wanted it very much, the hedgehog. But hardly had the boy uttered these words than Maxim appeared on top of the bank above them. ""There he is!"" Maxim screamed. ""Get him, get a hold of him!"" He must have rushed out of the house like a madman to catch the boy: he was hatless and in a rage. Now everything, of course, came back to the boy: he let out a cry, stepped to the edge of the water, pressed his little fists against his chest, looked up at the sky —yes, they all saw him do that—and jumped. Splash! There were cries, shouts, screams; some men dove from the ferry, but the swift current carried the boy off so that by the time they'd pulled him out he'd swallowed lots of water and it was too late. He was too delicate anyway: it'd been more than he could take. Besides, how much does it take to kill a weak little boy like that? No one from those parts remembered ever having heard of a small child taking his own life. That was a terrible sin. For what can such a young soul tell our Lord in the next world?","She had with her a little girl in a pretty white dress, her daughter, a child of eight or so. The little girl held in her hand a basket of the kind the peasants make.",1,0.018546565,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 100 But I can’t do that, they mustn’t know my despair , I can’t let them see the wounds which they have caused, I couldn’t bear their sympathy and their kind-hearted jokes, it would only make me want to scream all the more. Everyone thinks I’m showing off when I talk, ridiculous when I’m silent, insolent when I answer, cunning when I have a good idea, lazy when I’m tired, selfish when I eat one bite more than I should, stupid, cowardly, calculating, etc., etc. The whole day long I hear nothing else but that I am an insufferable baby, and although I laugh about it and pretend not to take any notice, I do mind. I would like to ask God to give me a different nature, so that I didn’t put everyone’s back up.","If I talk, everyone thinks I’m showing off; when I’m silent they think I’m ridiculous; rude if I answer, sly if I’ve got a good idea, lazy if I’m tired, selfish if I eat a mouthful more than I should, stupid, cowardly, crafty, etc.",1,0.018689308,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 Manon was a creature of extraordinary character. Never had a girl been less fond of money than she was, but she could not be quiet for a moment, fearing she would run out of it. It was fun and hobbies that he needed. She would never have wanted to get a penny, if one could amuse oneself without cost. She did not even inquire what was the fund of our wealth, provided she could pass the day pleasantly, so that, being neither excessively given up to gambling nor capable of being dazzled by the pomp of great expenditure, nothing was easier than to satisfy her, by giving her every day amusements to her liking. But it was such a necessary thing for her, to be so occupied with pleasure that there was not the least ground to be made, without it, on her mood and her inclinations. Although she loved me tenderly, and I was the only one, as she willingly admitted, who could make her taste perfectly the sweetness of love, I was almost certain that her tenderness would not hold against certain fears. She would have preferred me to all the earth with mediocre fortune; but I had no doubt that she would abandon me for some new B... when I had nothing left but constancy and fidelity to offer her. I therefore resolved to regulate my private expense so well that I would always be able to provide for his, and rather to deprive myself of a thousand necessities than to limit it even to the superfluous. The carriage frightened me more than anything else; for there was no prospect of being able to maintain horses and a coachman. I mentioned my perplexity to M. Lescaut (from whom I had not concealed my having had a hundred pistoles from a friend); and once again he said that if I wanted to try my hand at gaming he did not think it impossible that, provided I were willing to invest a hundred francs or so and treat his friends to a dinner, I might be admitted on his recommendation to the fraternity.10 I swallowed the distaste I had for swindling, and let myself be carried along by cruel necessity. ","I revealed my grief to M. Lescaut. I had not concealed from him that I had received a hundred pistoles from a friend. He repeated to me that, if I wanted to try the chance of the game, he did not despair that by willingly sacrificing a hundred francs to treat his associates, I could not be admitted, on his recommendation, to the League of Industry. However reluctant I felt to deceive, I allowed myself to be carried away by a cruel necessity.",1,0.018978037,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 0 after all, you are now a simple man, a ruined nobleman and the same beggar:","I wondered to myself what this could mean, and concluded that the recluse had been unwilling to accord me his counsel. Next I repaired to the Archimandrite, and had scarce reached his door when he inquired of me whether I could commend to him a man meet to be entrusted with the collection of alms for a church—a man who should belong to the dvoriane or to the more lettered merchants, but who would guard the trust as he would guard the salvation of his soul.",1,0.019124037,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 May they roll and roar, weep and rejoice, embrace each other in effervescence and behave as supernaturally as they please! The bad thing, the really painful thing, was the silence that followed them, which then reigned for so long, up there in the drawing room, and which was too deep and inanimate not to arouse horror. Then Thomas Buddenbrook sat at his desk and waited until he also saw himself, his wife's friend, enter his house, until the harmonies surged above him in the drawing room, with singing, lamentations and superhuman rejoicing raised up, as it were, with convulsively outstretched, folded hands and, after all the mad and vague ecstasies in weakness and sobs, sank into night and silence. Herr von Throta played the piano, violin, viola, violoncello and flute - all excellently - and the Senator was often informed of the coming visit in advance by Herr von Throta's boy, dragging the cello case on his back, at the green sills of the private office passed by and disappeared into the house...","Herr von Throta played the piano, violin, viola, cello, and flute, and played them all unusually well. Often the Senator became aware of an impending visit when Heir von Throta's man passed the office-door with his master's cello-case on his back. Thomas Buddenbrook would sit at his desk and watch until he saw his wife's friend enter the house. Then, overhead in the salon, the harmonies would rise and surge like waves, with singing, lamenting, unearthly jubilation; would lift like clasped hands outstretched toward Heaven; would float in vague ecstasies; would sink and die away into sobbing, into night and silence. But they might roll and seethe, weep and exult, foam up and enfold each other, as unnaturally as they liked! They were not the worst. The worst, the actually torturing thing, was the silence. It would sometimes reign so long, so long, and so profoundly, above there in the salon, that it was impossible not to feel afraid of it.",1,0.019124037,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 Ojosan was sitting near me when I told them what my friend had said that morning: she even said merrily, “That’s going too far!”; but she had quietly withdrawn to the corner of the room in the course of the conversation, and was now sitting with her back turned towards me.",I rounded up the story in a sloppy way and tried to go back to my room.,1,0.019271135,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 He didn't say anything and left. I got up, locked the door, and, taking out cigarettes and a match, began to smoke. I had not finished smoking my cigarettes, when sleep seized me and threw me down. I slept, right, two hours. I remember I saw in a dream that we were friends with her, we quarreled, but we put up, and that something was a little disturbing, but we were friendly. I was awakened by a knock on the door. “This is the police,” I thought, waking up. But maybe it is she herself and nothing has happened.’ ‘I must have killed her! There was still a knock on the door. I didn't answer anything, solving the question: was it or wasn't it? Yes it was. I remembered the resistance of the corset and the sinking of the knife, and a chill ran down my spine. "" Yes it was. Yes, now you need yourself, too,” I said to myself. But I said it and I knew that I would not kill myself. However, I got up and picked up the revolver again. But a strange thing: I remember how many times before I was close to suicide, how that day, even on the railway, it seemed easy to me, easy precisely because I thought how I would amaze her with this. Now I could not only kill myself, but even think about it. ""Why would I do this? "" I asked myself, and there was no answer. There was another knock on the door. “Yes, first you need to find out who it is knocking. I can still do it. "" I put down the revolver and covered it with newspaper. I went to the door and pushed back the latch. She was the wife's sister, a kind, stupid widow.","“After all, I killed, it seems. Or maybe it's her, and nothing happened.",1,0.019419348,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 Candide first kissed the bottom of the commandant's robe, then they sat down to table. ""So you are German?"" said the Jesuit to him in that language. "" Yes, my Reverend Father,"" said Candide. Both of them, while pronouncing these words, looked at each other with extreme surprise and an emotion of which they were not the masters. “And which country of Germany are you from? said the Jesuit. — From the filthy province of Vestphalia, said Candide: I was born in the castle of Thunder-ten-tronckh. — O heaven! Is it possible? cried the commander. - What a miracle! exclaimed Candide. ""Could it be you?"" said the commander. ""That is not possible,"" said Candide. They both fall backwards, they kiss, they shed streams of tears. "" What! would it be you, my Reverend Father? you, the brother of the beautiful Cunégonde! you, who were killed by the Bulgarians! you, the son of Monsieur le Baron! you, Jesuit in Paraguay! We must admit that this world is a strange thing. O Pangloss! Pangloss! how glad you would be if you had not been hanged! » ","It’s a mad world, indeed it is. Oh, Pangloss! Pangloss! how happy you would be, if you hadn’t been hanged.",1,0.019419348,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 Perhaps she felt that he could not succeed, and she even feared that nothing by speaking of her would provoke revelations that she dreaded. Still, she had made him promise never to say her name. The reason she didn't want to go out into the world, she told him, was a falling out she had once had with a friend who, in revenge, had then spoken ill of her. Swann objected: “But not everyone knew your friend. – “But yes, it does the oil stain, the world is so wicked. On the one hand Swann did not understand this story, but on the other hand he knew that these propositions: “The world is so wicked” and “a slanderous statement spreads oil” are generally held to be true; there had to be cases to which they applied. Was Odette's one of those? He wondered, but not for long, because he, too, was subject to that heaviness of spirit that weighed on his father when he faced a difficult problem. Besides, this world which frightened Odette so much perhaps did not inspire her with great desires, for for her to picture it clearly to herself, it was too far removed from the one she knew. However, while having remained in certain respects really simple (she had kept for a friend, for example, a little retired seamstress whose steep, dark and fetid staircase she climbed almost every day), she had a thirst for chic, but did not give up on it. did not have the same idea as the people of the world. For the latter, fashion is a thing that emanates from a comparatively small number of leaders, who project it to a considerable distance—with more or less strength according as one is nearer to or farther from their intimate centre—over the widening circle of their friends and the friends of their friends, whose names form a sort of tabulated index. People 'in society' know this index by heart, they are gifted in such matters with an erudition from which they have extracted a sort of taste, of tact, so automatic in its operation that Swann, for example, without needing to draw upon his knowledge of the world, if he read in a newspaper the names of the people who had been guests at a dinner, could tell at once how fashionable the dinner had been, just as a man of letters, merely by reading a phrase, can estimate exactly the literary merit of its author. But Odette was one of the people (extremely numerous whatever people in the world think of it, and as there are in all classes of society) who do not possess these notions, imagine a completely different chic, which takes on various aspects according to the environment to which they belong, but has the particular character – whether it is the one Odette dreamed of, or the one before which Mme Cottard bowed – of being directly accessible to all. The other, that of the people of the world, is, to tell the truth, also, but it requires some delay. Odette said of someone:","For them, chic is an emanation of a few few people who project it to a fairly distant degree – and more or less weakened insofar as one is distant from the center of their intimacy – in the circle of their friends. or friends of their friends whose names form a kind of directory. The people of the world possess it in their memory, they have an erudition on these matters from which they have extracted a kind of taste, of tact, so that Swann for example, without needing to appeal to his worldly knowledge, s he read in a newspaper the names of the people who were at a dinner could immediately tell the nuance of the chic of this dinner, as a scholar, by simply reading a sentence, appreciates exactly the literary quality of its author.",1,0.019419348,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 Once, and only once, did she manage to have a more or less sensible dream. It was of a solitary monk in some dark room, which she was frightened to enter. “Hm, imperturbable and as silly as they come, a silly goose to a tee, nothing will move her, all she knows is how to mope! For instance, Alexandra was very fond of sleeping late and usually had copious dreams; but these were invariably distinguished by their utter vacuousness and naivety as might indicate the level of intelligence of a child under seven. This very naivety began to get on her mother’s nerves. On one occasion Alexandra Ivanovna dreamt of a row of nine chickens, and this led to a full-blown row with her mother – why precisely? – there was no telling. Lizaveta Prokofyevna really had a soft spot for Alexandra Ivanovna, more so even than for her idol, Aglaya. The dream was immediately communicated to Lizaveta Prokofyevna by her two sisters, barely able to contain their laughter; but mother again flew into a temper and denounced all three as imbeciles. I’m talking nonsense – these daughters of mine will be the end of me!” But her caustic remarks (to be sure, the principal expressions of her maternal love and care), her fault-finding and such epithets as “wet lettuce”, only made Alexandra laugh. It often happened that the most trivial things annoyed and exasperated Lizaveta Prokofyevna intensely.","They’ve got me totally confused!” Lizaveta Prokofyevna had some inexplicable commiserating sympathy with Alexandra Ivanovna, more even than with Aglaya, who was her idol. But her acrimonious outbursts (in which her maternal care and sympathy chiefly expressed itself), her taunts, such names as “wet hen,” only made Alexandra laugh. It would reach the point where the most trifling things would anger Lizaveta Prokofyevna terribly and put her beside herself. Alexandra Ivanovna liked, for instance, to sleep long hours and usually had many dreams; but her dreams were always distinguished by a sort of extraordinary emptiness and innocence—suitable for a seven-year-old child; and so even this innocence of her dreams began for some reason to annoy her mother. Once Alexandra Ivanovna saw nine hens in a dream, and this caused a formal quarrel between her and her mother—why?—it is difficult to explain. Once, and only once, she managed to have a dream about something that seemed original—she dreamed of a monk, alone, in some dark room, which she was afraid to enter. The dream was at once conveyed triumphantly to Lizaveta Prokofyevna by her two laughing sisters; but the mother again became angry and called all three of them fools. “Hm! She’s placid as a fool, and really a perfect ‘wet hen,’ there’s no shaking her up, yet",1,0.019719128,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 20 Apropos of the organ-grinder, I may tell you, dearest, that today I experienced a double misfortune. As I was looking at the grinder, certain thoughts entered my head and I stood wrapped in a reverie. Some cabmen also had halted at the spot, as well as a young girl, with a yet smaller girl who was dressed in rags and tatters. These people had halted there to listen to the organ-grinder, who was playing in front of some one’s windows. Next, I caught sight of a little urchin of about ten—a boy who would have been good-looking but for the fact that his face was pinched and sickly. Almost barefooted, and clad only in a shirt, he was standing agape to listen to the music—a pitiful childish figure. Nearer to the grinder a few more urchins were dancing, but in the case of this lad his hands and feet looked numbed, and he kept biting the end of his sleeve and shivering. Also, I noticed that in his hands he had a paper of some sort. Presently a gentleman came by, and tossed the grinder a small coin, which fell straight into a box adorned with a representation of a Frenchman and some ladies. The instant he heard the rattle of the coin, the boy started, looked timidly round, and evidently made up his mind that I had thrown the money; whereupon, he ran to me with his little hands all shaking, and said in a tremulous voice as he proffered me his paper: “Pl-please sign this.” I turned over the paper, and saw that there was written on it what is usual under such circumstances. “Kind friends I am a sick mother with three hungry children. Pray help me. Though soon I shall be dead, yet, if you will not forget my little ones in this world, neither will I forget you in the world that is to come.” The thing seemed clear enough; it was a matter of life and death. Yet what was I to give the lad? Well, I gave him nothing. But my heart ached for him. I am certain that, shivering with cold though he was, and perhaps hungry, the poor lad was not lying. No, no, he was not lying. The shameful point is that so many mothers take no care of their children, but send them out, half-clad, into the cold. Perhaps this lad’s mother also was a feckless old woman, and devoid of character? Or perhaps she had no one to work for her, but was forced to sit with her legs crossed—a veritable invalid? Or perhaps she was just an old rogue who was in the habit of sending out pinched and hungry boys to deceive the public? What would such a boy learn from begging letters? His heart would soon be rendered callous, for, as he ran about begging, people would pass him by and give him nothing. Yes, their hearts would be as stone, and their replies rough and harsh. “Away with you!” they would say. “You are seeking but to trick us.” He would hear that from every one, and his heart would grow hard, and he would shiver in vain with the cold, like some poor little fledgling that has fallen out of the nest. His hands and feet would be freezing, and his breath coming with difficulty; until, look you, he would begin to cough, and disease, like an unclean parasite, would worm its way into his breast until death itself had overtaken him—overtaken him in some foetid corner whence there was no chance of escape. Yes, that is what his life would become. There are many such cases. Ah, Barbara, it is hard to hear “For Christ’s sake!” and yet pass the suppliant by and give nothing, or say merely: “May the Lord give unto you!” Of course, SOME supplications mean nothing (for supplications differ greatly in character). Occasionally supplications are long, drawn-out and drawling, stereotyped and mechanical—they are purely begging supplications. Requests of this kind it is less hard to refuse, for they are purely professional and of long standing. “The beggar is overdoing it,” one thinks to oneself. “He knows the trick too well.” But there are other supplications which voice a strange, hoarse, unaccustomed note, like that today when I took the poor boy’s paper. He had been standing by the kerbstone without speaking to anybody—save that at last to myself he said, “For the love of Christ give me a groat!” in a voice so hoarse and broken that I started, and felt a queer sensation in my heart, although I did not give him a groat. Indeed, I had not a groat on me. Rich folk dislike hearing poor people complain of their poverty. “They disturb us,” they say, “and are impertinent as well. Why should poverty be so impertinent? Why should its hungry moans prevent us from sleeping?”","And something else for the sake of Christ is unusual, rude, terrible -",1,0.019719128,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 He waited two minutes, but his heart was beating terribly, and for moments he was almost gasping for breath. No, the heartbeat won't go away, he thought, I can't wait any longer. He stood behind a bush in the shade; the front half of the bush was lit from a window. "" Kalina, what red berries!"" He whispered, not knowing why. Quietly, with separate, inaudible steps, he walked to the window and stood on tiptoe. The entire bedroom of Fyodor Pavlovich appeared before him at a glance. It was a small room, all divided across by red screens, ""Chinese"", as Fyodor Pavlovich called them. "" Chinese,"" flashed through Mitya's mind, ""and behind the screens Grushenka. "" He began to examine Fyodor Pavlovich. The latter was in his new striped silk robe, which Mitya had never seen before, girded with a silk cord with tassels. After that he stood still for a while, then went over to the mirror by the window, pushed his red bandage aside slightly, and examined the bruises and scratches that were still clearly visible. An immaculate white linen shirt with gold studs showed under the dressing gown. “All dressed up,” Mitya thought. On his head Mr. Karamazov had the same red bandage that he had worn when Alyosha had seen him last. His father was standing near the window, apparently lost in thought; suddenly he raised his head as if listening for something but then, hearing nothing, gave up, walked to the table, poured himself half a glass of brandy, drank it down, and took a deep breath. He is alone,"" thought Mitya, ""in all probability one."" Fyodor Pavlovich moved away from the mirror, suddenly turned to the window and looked into it. Mitya instantly jumped into the shadows.","From under the collar of the robe peeped out clean, dapper linen, a thin Dutch shirt with gold cufflinks. Fyodor Pavlovich had the same red bandage on his head that Alyosha had seen on him. “I’ve got dressed,” thought Mitya. Fyodor Pavlovich was standing near the window, apparently lost in thought, suddenly he lifted his head, listened a little and, hearing nothing, went up to the table, poured half a glass of brandy from the decanter and drank it. Then he sighed with all his chest, stood again, absentmindedly walked to the mirror in the wall, lifted a little red bandage from his forehead with his right hand and began to examine his bruises and sores, which had not yet passed. """,1,0.019870715,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 “I'm the only one going crazy. If only you knew how pathetic I am!","Evening was closing in, and the lamp had been lit. Moonlike, it cast through the ivy-covered trellis a light so dim that the dusk still veiled the outlines of Olga's face and figure--it still shrouded them, as it were, in crêpe; while the soft, strong voice, vibrating with nervous tension, came ringing through the darkness with a note of mystery.",1,0.019870715,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 20 When I preached K, I definitely wanted to clarify that. However, I'm sure it was rebellious. Also, I thought that I must bring the examples of old people to the inquiries. Then I would have to clearly state what makes K different from those people. It would be nice if K would be able to agree with that, but by his nature, once the discussion goes that far, it won't easily turn back. I will go ahead. Then, it will take action to realize the street that was mentioned earlier by mouth. He would wilfully proceed to his own destruction. In this respect, he was really quite frightening—and very impressive. From the results, he was just great in the sense of crushing his own success, but it was never mediocre. Knowing his temperament, I couldn't say anything at last. What's more, from my point of view, he seemed to have some memory weakness, as I said before. Alright, wherever I persuade him, he must be fierce. I wasn't afraid to quarrel with him, but when I look back on my situation where I couldn't stand the feeling of loneliness, it's best to put him in the same loneliness situation. It was something I couldn't stand. I was still reluctant to go one step further and plunge into a more lonely situation. So I didn't add any criticism on him for the time being, even after he moved home. I just decided to gently look at the consequences for him around me.",He was a terrifying man when this happened. It was great. Proceed while destroying yourself.,1,0.020332353,0
+"lexical = 100, order = 100 What about now?","If he hadn’t informed when he did, the authorities would have gone for the whole family – root and branch.",1,0.020488555,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 In the newspapers they will say of you that you died regretted not only by your subordinates, but also by humanity at large, as well as that, a respected citizen, a kind father, and a husband beyond reproach, you went to your grave amid the tears of your widow and orphans. Yet, should those journals be put to it to name any particular circumstance which justified this eulogy of you, they would be forced to fall back upon the fact that you grew a pair of exceptionally thick eyebrows!” Lastly came a few empty drozhkis. As soon as the latter had passed, our hero was able to continue on his way. Yet the movements of their hands and lips made it evident that they were indulging in animated conversation—probably about the Governor-General, the balls which he might be expected to give, and their own eternal fripperies and gewgaws. Throwing back the hood of the britchka, he said to himself: “Ah, good friend, you have lived your life, and now it is over!","By the movement of their lips and hands one could see that they were engaged in lively conversation; perhaps they, too, were talking about the arrival of the new governor-general, making speculations concerning the balls he would give, and worrying about their eternal festoons and appliqués. Finally, after the carriages, came several empty droshkies, strung out in single file, and finally there was nothing more left, and our hero could go. Opening the leather curtains, he sighed, saying from the bottom of his heart: “So, the prosecutor! He lived and lived, and then he died! And so they’ll print in the newspapers that there passed away, to the sorrow of his subordinates and of all mankind, a respectable citizen, a rare father, an exemplary husband, and they’ll write all sorts of stuff; they’ll add, maybe, that he was accompanied by the weeping of widows and orphans; but if one looks into the matter properly, all you had, in fact, was bushy eyebrows.”",1,0.021287354,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 Frau Permaneder came up the main staircase, raising her dress up in front with one hand and pressing the large, brown muff against her cheek with the other. She fell and stumbled more than she walked, her cloche hat was on untidy, her cheeks were flushed, and little beads of sweat stood out on her slightly protruding upper lip. Although she met no one, she spoke incessantly, hurrying on, and now and then a word broke out of her whisper with a sudden rush, which fear gave a loud tone to. . . . ""It's nothing . . . "" she said. ' It doesn't mean anything... I firmly believe that. The Lord can’t want this—He knows what He’s doing. It certainly has nothing to say... Oh, Lord, every day I want to pray...' She just babbled nonsense with fear, rushed up the stairs to the second floor and across the corridor...",God won't want it... He knows what he's doing; I keep my faith...,1,0.021287354,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 40 As he walked, Siddhartha also thought back on everything he had experienced in the garden of Jetavana: the doctrine he had heard there, the divine Buddha, bidding farewell to Govinda, his conversation with the Sublime One. He thought back on the words he had spoken to the Sublime One, on each of them, and with astonishment he realized he had said things that he had not yet really known. What he had said to Gautama—that his, the Buddha’s, treasure and secret was not his doctrine but rather the inexpressible, unteachable things he had experienced in the hour of his enlightenment—was precisely what he, Siddhartha, was now setting off to experience, was now beginning to experience. It was he himself he now had to experience. To be sure, he had known for a long time that his Self was Atman, of the same eternal essence as Brahman. But never had he truly found this Self, for he had been trying to capture it with a net made of thought. While certainly body was not Self—nor was it the play of the senses— this Self was also not thought, was not mind, was not the wisdom amassed through learning, not the learned art of drawing conclusions and spinning new thoughts out of old. No, even thought was still in this world; no goal could be reached by killing off the happenstance Self of the senses while continuing to fatten the happenstance Self of thought and learnedness. Thought and senses were both fine things. Ultimate meaning lay hidden behind them; both should be listened to, played with, neither scorned nor overvalued, for in each of them the secret voice of the innermost core might be discerned. He would aspire to nothing but what this voice commanded him, occupy himself with nothing but what the voice advised. Why had Gautama once, in the hour of hours, sat down beneath the bo tree where enlightenment struck him? He had heard a voice, a voice in his own heart, commanding him to rest beneath this tree, and he had not chosen to devote himself instead to self-castigation, sacrifice, ablution, or prayer, nor to eating or drinking, nor to sleeping or dreaming; he had obeyed the voice. To obey like this, to obey not a command from the outside but only the voice, to be in readiness—this was good, this was necessary. , that was necessary, nothing else was necessary. ",Nothing else was necessary.,1,0.02145073,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 In the restaurant where I ate at that time, a man who sat next to me had already indicated his readiness to strike up a friendship with me. He was about forty: rather bald, dark, with gold spectacles which refused to stay on his nose, perhaps because of their heavy golden chain. Ah, he was such a nice little man! Just think: when he stood up and put his hat on his head, he immediately seemed a different person: he looked like a boy. His physical defect was his legs; they were too short; they didn't even reach the floor when he was seated. It would be incorrect to say that he rose from his chair, he climbed down from it really. And what is wrong with that? He tried to make up for this defect by wearing high heels. Yes, those heels did make too much noise; but they made his little birdlike steps so charmingly imperious.",He tried to compensate for this failing by wearing high heels. What's wrong with that?,1,0.021615336,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 But the door opened. The sluggard Emelyan and the thief Antoshka made their appearance with table napkins, laid the table, set a tray with six decanters of various coloured homemade wines; soon round the trays and decanters there was a necklace of plates—caviare, cheese, salted mushrooms of different kinds, and something was brought in from the kitchen covered with a plate, under which could be heard the hissing of butter. The sluggard Emelyan and the thief Antoshka were quick and excellent fellows. Their master gave them those titles because to address them without nicknames seemed tame and flat, and he did not like anything to be so; he was a kind-hearted man, but liked to use words of strong flavour. Anyhow, his servants were not angered by it. ","His servants did not resent it, however.",1,0.021615336,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 Then, sighing, she says, ‘It is the fault of people like you that problems have arisen between my brother and me. My mother has agreed to this trip – as indeed has my brother. It’s not as if this is an elopement – I’m after all married to Lord Xuande. ‘We’ve been instructed by Lord Sun to ensure you both return.’ For a moment, Lady Sun looks at them in distasteful silence. She tells him to ride on for the river with three hundred of his men while she and Zhao Zilong deal with this new threat. And once again Lady Sun takes control. No sooner do the four officers see Lady Sun than they leap from their horses and bow deeply. Lady Sun barks, ‘Chen Wu, Pan Zhang. What are you doing here?’ We’re simply fulfilling our ritual and filial duties!","Madam said, ""My husband will go first, and Zilong and I will follow."" Xuande led three hundred troops and went to the river bank. Zilong reined his horse to the side of the chariot and set aside his soldiers to wait for the coming general. When the four generals saw Mrs. Sun, they had to dismount and stand with arms crossed. The lady said, ""Chen Wu and Pan Zhang, what are you doing here?"" The two generals replied, ""At the command of the lord, I ask the lady and Xuande to come back."" Brother and sister are not on good terms! I have married someone else, and I am going back today, so I must not be running away with someone else. I am following my mother's merciful order and ordered my husband and wife to return to Jingzhou. Even if my brother comes, we must obey the etiquette.",1,0.02178117,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 I would like to go ahead and give the reasons why it was convenient to choose those who in the republic had to have such a necessary job, but it is not the right place for it: one day I will tell it to whoever can provide and remedy it. I am only saying now that the pain caused by seeing these white gray hairs and this venerable face in so much fatigue, as a pimp, has been taken from me by the adjunct of being a sorcerer; although I know well that there are no spells in the world that can move and force the will, as some simple people think; that our will is free, and there is no herb or charm that forces it. ""Unless he had added those tips and a collar,"" said Don Quixote, ""just because he was a clean pimp, he did not deserve to go rowing in the galleys, but to mandallas and to be general of the galleys;"" because the job of pimp is not like that, which is the job of the discreet and very necessary in a well-ordered republic, and which should be exercised only by very well-born people; and there still had to be an overseer and examiner of such, as there are of the other trades, with a deputed and known number, as brokers of the market; And in this way many evils that are caused by walking this trade and exercise would be excused among idiotic people and of little understanding, such as little women from little more to less, pages and crooks of a few years and little experience, who, to the most necessary On occasion and when it is necessary to give a trace that matters, the crumbs spread between their mouth and hand and they do not know which is their right hand. What some silly little strumpets and deceitful rogues do is to make certain poisonous mixtures that they use to turn men mad, claiming that they have the power to make them fall in love, whereas it is, as I have just said, impossible to coerce the will.’","‘If it were not for the touch of the sorcerer,’ said Don Quixote, ‘for being a pimp alone he does not deserve to go to row in the galleys, but rather to be the admiral in charge of them. Because the pimp’s trade is no ordinary trade; it must be carried out by intelligent people and it is absolutely essential to any well-ordered society, and only the well-born should exercise it; and there should be an official inspector of pimps, as there is of other trades, and a maximum permitted number of them established and published, as is the case with stockbrokers, and this would be the way to forestall many evils that arise from the fact that this trade is in the hands of untrained and unqualified people such as little strumpets, page-boys and other scoundrels of no age or experience who, when at a critical moment some decisive action is called for, make a mess of the whole thing because they cannot tell their right hands from their left. I should like to go on to give the reasons why it would be advisable to make a careful selection of those who do such a necessary job in society, but this is not the place: one day I shall present my ideas to the proper authorities. All I shall say now is that the distress caused me by the sight of these white hairs and this venerable face in such a plight through his being a pimp is dissipated by the addition of his being a sorcerer. I know, of course, that there are no spells in the world that can control a person’s will, as some simple people believe; for our free will is sovereign, and there is no herb or enchantment that can control it.",1,0.02178117,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 We will, at the drop of a hat and with all the consistency of a weather-vane, launch societies for philanthropic purposes, for the encouragement of this and that, and for Heaven alone knows what else. In all our assemblies, beginning with the village meeting of the peasants and going all the way up to all possible sorts of learned committees and the like, a most impressive confusion will prevail if they lack a single leader who directs everything. Thus did the officials discourse; but whether it’s really possible to withstand the Devil or not is not an author’s business to judge. In the council now convened there was a very noticeable absence of that indispensable something which among the common folk is called horse sense. You, of course, haven’t much to worry you—all you’ve got is one little boy—but in my case, brother, my Praskovia Fedorovna has been endowed by God with such a blessed fertility that not a year passes without her bringing forth either a Praskushka or a Petrushka. In a case like that, brother, you’d strike up a different tune.” It’s difficult to say why this is so; evidently it must be so because we’re that sort of folk. Only those conferences succeed which are undertaken with the ultimate goal of having a good time or a banquet, such organizations as clubs and all kinds of vauxhall pleasure gardens, patterned after the German style. In general we Russians haven’t, somehow, been created for representative bodies. But as for willingness, it’s on tap at a moment’s notice and for any purpose you will.","You, of course, happily, you have one little son, and here, brother, God endowed Praskovya Fedorovna with such grace that a year brings either Praskushka or Petrushka: here, brother, you’ll sing something else. So the officials said, but is it really possible to resist the devil, it is not up to the author to judge this. In the council assembled this time, the absence of that necessary thing, which the common people call plainly, was very noticeable. In general, we were somehow not created for representative meetings. In all our meetings, from the peasant secular gathering to all sorts of possible scholars and other committees, if they do not have one head that governs everything, there is a great confusion. It is even difficult to say why this is; it is evident that the people are already like that, only those meetings are successful that are arranged in order to stir up or dine, somehow: clubs and all sorts of voxals[26] on a German footing. And readiness every minute is, perhaps, for everything. All of a sudden, as the wind blows, we will start charitable, incentive and who knows what societies.",1,0.021948254,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 — My daughter ran away from me; it was with a guy, I don't even want to know… He left me alone, but so sad, so sad, I thought I would die. There was no one else in the world and she was almost old and sick. It was during this time that I met Iaiá's family: good people, who gave me something to do, and even gave me a house. Then I lived as God willed it. I left when Iaiá got married. Look at my fingers, look at these hands …” And she showed her thick, wrinkled hands, the tips of her fingers pricked by needles … “You don’t get this way by chance, sir. God knows how you get this way … Luckily Iaiá took care of me, and you too, doctor … I was afraid of ending up begging on the street …” I was there for several months, a year, over a year, a house servant, sewing. ","I was there for many months, a year, more than a year, aggregated, sewing. I left when Iaiá got married. Then I lived as God was served. Look at my fingers, look at these hands…” And he showed me his thick, cracked hands, the tips of his fingers pricked by the needle. — This is not created for nothing, my lord; God knows how this is created… Fortunately, Iaiá protected me, and so did the doctor… I was afraid of ending up on the street, begging…",1,0.021948254,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 40 The Master, much pleased with the events at Fengshan, rode on his way, and arrived at a religious gathering at Yuhua, a most flourishing place, where rice was sold at four candarins per ten bushels, and oil for ten cash per catty. The officials and people escorted them thirty li on their journey, and parted with them in tears.","and I’ll block his escape route into the river.” Back Pigsy went with his rake, bursting in just as the fiend was waking up.",1,0.02211659,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 - It was necessary to go thirty-five miles on horseback and eight hours on a cast-iron. The horse riding was great. It was a frosty autumn time with a bright sun. You know, this is the time when the studs are stamped on the oily road. The roads are smooth, the light is bright and the air is invigorating. It was good to ride in the tarantass. When it dawned and I went, I felt better. Looking at the horses, at the fields, at the oncoming ones, I forgot where I was going. Sometimes it seemed to me that I was just driving and that there was nothing that caused me, nothing of this. And it was especially joyful for me to be so forgotten. When I remembered where I was going, I said to myself: “Then it will be clear, don’t think about it.” In the middle of the road, moreover, an event occurred that delayed me on the road and amused me even more: the tarantass broke down, and it was necessary to repair it. This breakdown was of great importance in that it made me arrive in Moscow not at five o'clock, as I had expected, but at twelve o'clock and go home at one o'clock, since I did not get on the courier, but had to go on the passenger side. The cart ride, the mending, the payback, tea at the inn, conversations with the janitor - all this amused me even more. By dusk everything was ready, and I set off again, and it was even better to go at night than during the day. It was a young month, a little frost, still a beautiful road, horses, a cheerful driver, and I rode and enjoyed it, almost not thinking at all about what awaited me, or precisely because I especially enjoyed it because I knew what awaited me, and said goodbye to joys life. But this calm state of mine, the ability to suppress my feelings, ended with a ride on horseback. As soon as I entered the car, something completely different began. This eight-hour journey in the carriage was something terrible for me, which I will never forget for the rest of my life. Either because as soon as I entered the carriage I vividly imagined myself as having already reached the end, or because railroad travel has an exciting effect on people—in any case, as soon as I took my seat I no longer had control over my imagination, which ceaselessly, with extraordinary vividness, began to bring up before me pictures kindling my jealousy. One after another they arose and always to the same effect: what had taken place during my absence and how she had deceived me! I was burning with indignation, anger and some special feeling of ecstasy at my humiliation, contemplating these pictures, and could not tear myself away from them; couldn't help but look at them, couldn't erase them, couldn't help calling them out. Moreover, the more I contemplated these imaginary pictures, the more I believed in their reality. The vividness with which these pictures appeared to me seemed to prove that what I imagined was reality. Some devil, as if against my will, invented and suggested to me the most terrible ideas. I remembered a long-standing conversation with Trukhachevsky's brother, and with some kind of delight I tore my heart with this conversation, referring it to Trukhachevsky and my wife.","Whether because, having got into the carriage, I vividly imagined myself already arrived, or because the railway has such an exciting effect on people, but only since I got into the carriage, I could no longer control my imagination, and it without ceasing with extraordinary brightness, she began to draw pictures for me that incited my jealousy, one after another and one more cynical than the other, and all about the same thing, about what happened there, without me, how she cheated on me.",1,0.022286188,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 He’s a good-looking man, good-looking; a very good-looking man, in fact. Only there is something queer about it, the point is not whether he is a good-looking man. I saw him as he came out from you. Indeed, I am not myself at all. Mr. Bykov has business—of course, everyone has business, and he may have it too.... Yes, business.... Of course you will be happy now, my precious, you will live in comfort, my darling, my little dearie, little angel and light of my eyes—only Varinka, how can it be so soon? ...","Of course, now you will be happy, little mother, you will have a sufficiency of everything, my little dove, my little treasure, my beloved, my little angel – only Varenka, why are you doing it so quickly?… Yes, business… Mr Bykov has business to attend to – of course, who hasn’t? he is just as likely to have business to attend to as the next person … I saw him as he was leaving the house after seeing you. He’s a fine figure of a man, a fine figure of a man; even a very fine figure of a man. It’s just that it somehow seems all wrong, it’s not really to do with his being a fine figure of a man but rather with the fact that I’m not myself now.",1,0.0226292,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 His physical condition had deteriorated. Loss of appetite, insomnia, dizziness, and those chills to which he had always been prone, compelled him several times to consult Doctor Longneck. But he failed to follow the doctor's orders. His willpower, weakened by years of busy and harried inactivity, was not enough. He had begun to sleep very late in the mornings, although each evening he made an angry determination to get up early to take the bidden walk before tea. In fact, he did this two or three times... and so it went in everything and everything. The constant strain of will without success or satisfaction sapped his self-esteem and made him desperate. He was far from denying himself the intoxicating pleasure of the small, pungent Russian cigarettes which he had smoked en masse every day since his youth. He said straight to Doctor Longneck into his vain face: “You see, doctor, it is your duty to forbid me to smoke cigarettes… a very easy and very pleasant duty, really! that’s not a joke. May I offer you one?” A man is so dreadfully alone. And so I smoke. But obeying that prohibition is up to me—you must realize that. Don’t laugh— No, we shall work together on my health, but the roles have been unevenly divided, and I end up with much the larger share of work to do. ","Holding the ban is my business! you can watch it... No, we want to work together on my health, but the roles are distributed too unfairly , I have too much of a part in this work! Don't laugh... This isn't a joke... It's so terribly alone... I smoke. may I ask?'",1,0.022802636,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 Tai-yue went on to ask. “Books, you say!” exclaimed dowager lady Chia; “why all they know are a few characters, that’s all.” The sentence was barely out of her lips, when a continuous sounding of footsteps was heard outside, and a waiting maid entered and announced that Pao-yue was coming. Tai-yue was speculating in her mind how it was that this Pao-yue had turned out such a good-for-nothing fellow, when he happened to walk in. He was, in fact, a young man of tender years, wearing on his head, to hold his hair together, a cap of gold of purplish tinge, inlaid with precious gems. Parallel with his eyebrows was attached a circlet, embroidered with gold, and representing two dragons snatching a pearl. He wore an archery-sleeved deep red jacket, with hundreds of butterflies worked in gold of two different shades, interspersed with flowers; and was girded with a sash of variegated silk, with clusters of designs, to which was attached long tassels; a kind of sash worn in the palace. Over all, he had a slate-blue fringed coat of Japanese brocaded satin, with eight bunches of flowers in relief; and wore a pair of light blue satin white-soled, half-dress court-shoes. His face was like the full moon at mid-autumn; his complexion, like morning flowers in spring; the hair along his temples, as if chiselled with a knife; his eyebrows, as if pencilled with ink; his nose like a suspended gallbladder (a well-cut and shapely nose); his eyes like vernal waves; his angry look even resembled a smile; his glance, even when stern, was full of sentiment. Round his neck he had a gold dragon necklet with a fringe; also a cord of variegated silk, to which was attached a piece of beautiful jade. As soon as Tai-yue became conscious of his presence, she was quite taken aback. “How very strange!” she was reflecting in her mind; “it would seem as if I had seen him somewhere or other, for his face appears extremely familiar to my eyes;” when she noticed Pao-yue face dowager lady Chia and make his obeisance. “Go and see your mother and then come back,” remarked her venerable ladyship; and at once he turned round and quitted the room. On his return, he had already changed his hat and suit. All round his head, he had a fringe of short hair, plaited into small queues, and bound with red silk. The queues were gathered up at the crown, and all the hair, which had been allowed to grow since his birth, was plaited into a thick queue, which looked as black and as glossy as lacquer. Between the crown of the head and the extremity of the queue, hung a string of four large pearls, with pendants of gold, representing the eight precious things. On his person, he wore a long silvery-red coat, more or less old, bestrewn with embroidery of flowers. He had still round his neck the necklet, precious gem, amulet of Recorded Name, philacteries, and other ornaments. Below were partly visible a fir-cone coloured brocaded silk pair of trousers, socks spotted with black designs, with ornamented edges, and a pair of deep red, thick-soled shoes. (Got up as he was now,) his face displayed a still whiter appearance, as if painted, and his eyes as if they were set off with carnation. As he rolled his eyes, they brimmed with love. When he gave utterance to speech, he seemed to smile. There is a natural charm, all in the eyebrows; all the emotions in my life are piled up at the corners of my eyes. The word is: Later generations have the two words ""West Red Moon"", which criticize Baoyu very appropriately. Seeing its appearance is the most excellent, but it is difficult to know its details. ","But the chief natural pleasing feature was mainly centred in the curve of his eyebrows. The ten thousand and one fond sentiments, fostered by him during the whole of his existence, were all amassed in the corner of his eyes. His outward appearance may have been pleasing to the highest degree, but yet it was no easy matter to fathom what lay beneath it. There are a couple of roundelays, composed by a later poet, (after the excellent rhythm of the) Hsi Chiang Yueh, which depict Pao-yue in a most adequate manner. The roundelays run as follows:",1,0.022802636,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 The vitriol of L'Assommoir was also beginning to wreak havoc in the Coupeau household. The laundress saw the hour coming when her man would take a whip like Bijard, to lead the dance. And the misfortune that threatened her naturally made her even more sensitive to the child's misfortune. Yes, Coupeau spun bad cotton. The time had passed when the jack gave him color. He could no longer beat himself on the chest, and show off, saying that the damned dog made him fat; for his ugly yellow grease of his early years had melted away, and he was turning to dryness, he was getting leaden, with the green tones of a stiff rotting in a pond. The appetite, too, was shaved. Little by little, he no longer had a taste for bread, he had even come to spit on the fricot. He could have been served the best suited ratatouille, his stomach was stopping, his soft teeth refused to chew. To sustain himself, he needed his pint of brandy a day; it was his ration, his food and drink, the only food he digested. In the morning, as soon as he jumped out of bed, he remained bent over for a good quarter of an hour, coughing and clicking his bones, holding his head and letting out pituite, something as bitter as snag that swept his throat. throat. It never failed, we could prepare Thomas in advance. He only landed on his feet after his first drink of consolation, a real remedy whose fire cauterized his guts. But, during the day, the strength resumed. First, he had felt tickling, tingling on his skin, on his feet and hands; and he was laughing, he was saying that they were teasing him, that his bourgeoise had to put hair to scratch between the sheets. Then, his legs had become heavy, the tickling had ended up changing into abominable cramps which pinched his meat like in a vise. That, for example, seemed less funny to him. He no longer laughed, stopped short on the sidewalk, dazed, his ears ringing, his eyes blinded by sparks. Everything appeared to him to be yellow; the houses danced and he reeled about for three seconds with the fear of suddenly finding himself sprawling on the ground. What bothered him the most was a slight trembling of both his hands; the right hand especially must have been guilty of some crime, it suffered from so many nightmares. At other times, while the sun was shining full on his back, he would shiver as though iced water had been poured down his shoulders. was he then no longer a man? He was becoming an old woman! Then in a fury he emptied it into his gullet, yelling that he would require dozens like it, and afterwards he undertook to carry a cask without so much as moving a finger. Gervaise, on the other hand, told him to give up drink if he wished to cease trembling, and he laughed at her, emptying quarts until he experienced the sensation again, flying into a rage and accusing the passing omnibuses of shaking up his liquor. He furiously strained his muscles, he seized hold of his glass and bet that he would hold it perfectly steady as with a hand of marble; but in spite of his efforts the glass danced about, jumped to the right, jumped to the left with a hurried and regular trembling movement. Mon Dieu! ","Everything seemed yellow to him, the houses danced, he festooned for three seconds, afraid of spreading out. Other times, his spine in the bright sun, he shivered, like icy water running from his shoulders to his behind. What bothered him the most was a slight tremor in both hands; the right hand especially must have done something wrong, she had so many nightmares. For God Sake ! he was therefore no longer a man, he was turning into an old woman! He tensed his muscles furiously, he grabbed his glass, bet on holding it motionless, as if at the end of a marble hand; but the glass, in spite of its effort, danced the ruckus, leapt to the right, leapt to the left, with a hurried and regular little trembling. So he emptied it into the coco, furious, yelling that he would need dozens of them and then he would carry a barrel without moving a finger. On the contrary, Gervaise told him not to drink any more, if he wanted to stop shivering. And he didn't care about her, he drank gallons of water trying to repeat the experiment, flying into a rage, accusing the passing omnibuses of jostling his liquid.",1,0.02297737,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 It’s just that there wasn’t so much of it, that’s all,’ he said. ‘You can’t expect anything else nowadays.",“At the present time it can’t help happening.,1,0.023330767,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 I go to the water at midday, I didn't feel like eating. Everything was desolate, a cold, damp evening wind blew from the mountain, and the gray rain clouds drew in the valley. From afar I see a man in a bad green coat who was crawling around between the rocks and seemed to be looking for herbs. As I came nearer to him and he turned round at the noise I was making, I saw a most interesting physiognomy in which a quiet sadness made the main feature, but which otherwise expressed nothing but a straight good sense; his black hair was pinned into two coils, and the rest braided into a strong plait that hung down his back. As his dress seemed to me to indicate a man of low rank, I thought he would not mind my noticing his occupation, and so I asked him what he was looking for? - ""I'm looking for,"" he answered with a deep sigh, ""flowers - and can't find any."" - ""It's not the season either,"" I said, smiling. - ""There are so many flowers,"" he said, coming down to me. » In my garden there are two kinds of roses and jellyfish, my father gave me one , they grow like weeds; I've been looking for it for two days and can't find it. There are always flowers there, yellow and blue and red, and the centaury has a pretty little flower.[88] I can't find any. « – I noticed something uncanny, and so I asked in a roundabout way: »What does he want with the flowers? « – A wonderful, twitching smile twisted his face. ""If he doesn't want to betray me,"" he said, putting his finger to his mouth, ""I promised my sweetheart a bouquet."" ""That's good,"" I said. - ""Oh!"" he said, ""she has many other things, she is rich."" - "" And yet she loves his bouquet,"" I replied. - ""Oh!"" he continued, ""she has jewels and a crown."" - ""What is her name?"" - ""If the States-General wanted to pay me,"" he replied, ""I would be a different person! Now that’s all over and done with. Now I am…” Yes, yes, there was a time when I was very well off. A wet look at the sky said it all. "" So he was happy? "" I asked. ""Oh, I wish I were like that again!"" he said. ""I felt so good, so merry, as easy as a fish in water!"" - ""Heinrich!"" cried an old woman who came along the path, "" Heinrich, where are you? We've been looking for you everywhere, come eat.” – “Is that your son?” I asked, stepping up to her. "" Well, my poor son!"" she replied. ""God has put a heavy cross on me."" - ""How long has he been like this?"" I asked. "" So quiet,"" she said, ""he's been half a year now. Thank God he's only gotten that far, before that he was mad for a whole year, lying in chains in a madhouse. Now he doesn't harm anyone, only he always has to deal with kings and emperors. He was such a good, quiet person who helped feed me, wrote his beautiful hand, and suddenly he became profound, fell into a violent fever, and from that into a frenzy, and now he is as you see him. If I should tell you, sir..."" - I interrupted the stream of her words with the question: ""What was that time about which he boasts that he was so happy, so comfortable in it?"" - "" The foolish man!"" she cried with a pitying smile, ""he means the time when he was on his own, he always boasts about that; that's the time when he was in the madhouse, where he knew nothing about himself. « - That struck me like a thunderbolt, I pressed a piece of money into her hand and left her in a hurry.[89]","Yes, there was a time when I felt so good! It's over with me now. I'm now...'",1,0.02350945,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 But no—I cannot say that I had NEVER foreseen it, for my mind DID get an inkling of what was coming, through my seeing something very similar to it in a dream. I will tell you the whole story—simply, and as God may put it into my heart. Today I went to the office as usual, and, upon arrival, sat down to write. You must know that I had been engaged on the same sort of work yesterday, and that, while executing it, I had been approached by Timothei Ivanovitch with an urgent request for a particular document. “Makar Alexievitch,” he had said, “pray copy this out for me. Copy it as quickly and as carefully as you can, for it will require to be signed today.” Also let me tell you, dearest, that yesterday I had not been feeling myself, nor able to look at anything. I had been troubled with grave depression—my breast had felt chilled, and my head clouded. All the while I had been thinking of you, my darling. Well, I set to work upon the copying, and executed it cleanly and well, except for the fact that, whether the devil confused my mind, or a mysterious fate so ordained, or the occurrence was simply bound to happen, I left out a whole line of the document, and thus made nonsense of it! The work had been given me too late for signature last night, so it went before his Excellency this morning. I reached the office at my usual hour, and sat down beside Emelia Ivanovitch. Here I may remark that for a long time past I have been feeling twice as shy and diffident as I used to do; I have been finding it impossible to look people in the face. Let only a chair creak, and I become more dead than alive. Today, therefore, I crept humbly to my seat and sat down in such a crouching posture that Efim Akimovitch (the most touchy man in the world) said to me sotto voce: “What on earth makes you sit like that, Makar Alexievitch?” Then he pulled such a grimace that everyone near us rocked with laughter at my expense. I stopped my ears, frowned, and sat without moving, for I found this the best method of putting a stop to such merriment. All at once I heard a bustle and a commotion and the sound of someone running towards us. Did my ears deceive me? It was I who was being summoned in peremptory tones! My heart started to tremble within me, though I could not say why. I only know that never in my life before had it trembled as it did then. Still I clung to my chair—and at that moment was hardly myself at all. The voices were coming nearer and nearer, until they were shouting in my ear: “Dievushkin! Dievushkin! Where is Dievushkin?” Then at length I raised my eyes, and saw before me Evstafi Ivanovitch. He said to me: “Makar Alexievitch, go at once to his Excellency. You have made a mistake in a document.” That was all, but it was enough, was it not? I felt dead and cold as ice— I felt absolutely deprived of the power of sensation; but, I rose from my seat and went whither I had been bidden. Through one room, through two rooms, through three rooms I passed, until I was conducted into his Excellency’s cabinet itself. Of my thoughts at that moment I can give no exact account. I merely saw his Excellency standing before me, with a knot of people around him. I have an idea that I did not salute him—that I forgot to do so. Indeed, so panic-stricken was I, that my teeth were chattering and my knees knocking together. In the first place, I was greatly ashamed of my appearance (a glance into a mirror on the right had frightened me with the reflection of myself that it presented), and, in the second place, I had always been accustomed to comport myself as though no such person as I existed. Probably his Excellency had never before known that I was even alive. Of course, he might have heard, in passing, that there was a man named Dievushkin in his department; but never for a moment had he had any intercourse with me.",This is what happened!,1,0.023870835,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 They have been called up, these comrades here, for a final push in a battle that has lasted all day, to regain that hill position and the burning villages just beyond, which were lost to the enemy two days before. It is a regiment of volunteers, youngsters, students mostly, not long at the front. They were rousted out in the night, rode the train till morning, marched in the rain until afternoon, taking wretched roads, or, since the roads were already jammed, no roads at all, just field and moor. If one did not care to lose one’s boots, one stooped at every second step, clutched with one’s fingers into the straps and pulled them out of the quaking mire. It was no pleasure excursion. It had taken one whole hour to cross a little meadow. And now here they are—youth has done it, their exhausted but excited bodies, tense with the last reserves of energy, have no need of the sleep and food they have been denied. Their flushed, wet faces, splattered with mud, are framed by chin straps and gray cloth-covered helmets worn askew; they are flushed with exertion and the sight of the casualties they took moving through the marshy wood. For the enemy, informed of their advance, had laid a barrage across their path, shrapnel and large-caliber grenades that burst into their ranks while they were still in the woods—a splintering, howling, spraying, flaming scourge across the wide, newly plowed fields.","Seven hours in heavy, rain-sodden coats, with battle gear—this was no promenade. To keep from losing your boots, you had to bend down at almost every step and grab hold of the tongue with your fingers and tug your foot out of the squishy mire.",1,0.024053553,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 Starting with the matter of his finances. Mihály had infinite respect for economic necessity. Perhaps for the very reason that he had no real grip on it. If someone told him that “in the name of economic necessity, such and such had to be done”, Mihály was immediately silenced, allowing all sorts of shady actions to be justified. This aspect of his behaviour made him rather uneasy, and he had voiced his concern earlier, only to have Erzsi pass it off as laughable. When it came to money, he was a very poor match for Erzsi, the former wife of a rich man, and now she was doomed to the middle-class. this will sooner or later get revenge, which Zoltán Pataki, who is so sober and financially homely, already sees clearly. ",And sooner or later she would regret it — as the clear-headed and financially clever Zoltán Pataki indicated all too clearly.,1,0.024423089,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 20 The cars there at this hour are not very frequent; these are musical. In my heart there is a peace of anguish, and my calm is made of resignation. Slow, strong, and weak, the recruits sleepwalk in clusters that are sometimes very noisy and sometimes more than noisy. Normal people come along every now and then. Future couples pass by, seamstresses pass by, young men pass by in a hurry for pleasure, retirees of everything smoke on their usual walk, at one or another door the idle loafers who own the shops notice little.","Some spend their lives looking for something they don’t want; others earnestly look for something they do want, but that is of no use at all; still others lose themselves […] However, most men are happy and enjoy life anyway. In general, men weep little and, when they do complain, they make literature out of it. Pessimism is not really viable as a democratic formula. Those who bemoan the ills of the world are an isolated few — they are only bemoaning their own ills.",1,0.02479816,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 For not in vain are we a poet, not in vain have we burned up our life like a candle at both ends. “To her, to her – and there, oh, there I shall give a sumptuous feast, the like of which there has never been, so that it shall be remembered and long described. He runs to retrieve his pistols which he has pawned with the civil servant Perkhotin and at the same time, on his way, as he runs, pulls from his pocket all his money, for the sake of which he has just splashed his hands with the blood of his father. Amidst wild shouts, the reckless songs and dances of the gypsies we shall raise the toasting cup and toast the adored woman in her new happiness, and then – right there, at her feet, blow open our skull and bring retribution to our life! Oh, money is now the thing most necessary to him: Karamazov is going to his death, Karamazov is going to shoot himself, and this shall be remembered!","He ran for the pistols he had left in pledge with his friend Perhotin and on the way, as he ran, he pulled out of his pocket the money, for the sake of which he had stained his hands with his father's gore. Oh, now he needed money more than ever. Karamazov would die, Karamazov would shoot himself and it should be remembered! To be sure, he was a poet and had burnt the candle at both ends all his life. ' To her, to her! and there, oh, there I will give a feast to the whole world, such as never was before, that will be remembered and talked of long after! In the midst of shouts of wild merriment, reckless gypsy songs and dances I shall raise the glass and drink to the woman I adore and her new-found happiness! And then, on the spot, at her feet, I shall dash out my brains before her and punish myself!",1,0.024987794,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 Thank God that the first blow and the first shock are over and that you have taken it as you have, and don’t look on me as a false friend, or an egoist for keeping you here and deceiving you because I love you as my angel and could not bring myself to part from you. she does nothing more than grumble; as for other people, they don’t matter, one mustn’t borrow money of them, that’s all, and to conclude my explanations I tell you, Varvara Alexyevna, that your respect for me I esteem more highly than anything on earth, and I am comforted by it now in my temporary troubles. Yevstafy Ivanovitch did just say a word when I passed him by yesterday. I’ve set to work again assiduously and have begun performing my duties well. I will not conceal from you, Varinka, that I am overwhelmed by my debts and the awful condition of my wardrobe, but that again does not matter, and about that too , I entreat you, do not despair, my dear.","As for the rest, they are nothing; they just do not need to ask for a loan, otherwise they will do nothing. And in conclusion of my explanations, I will tell you, mother, that I consider your respect for me above everything in the world, and thus I now console myself in my temporary disturbances. Thank God that the first blow and the first troubles have passed and you have accepted it in such a way that you do not consider me a treacherous friend and selfish person for keeping you at my place and deceiving you, unable to part with you and loving you as mine. angel. Carefully now he set to work and began to correct his position well. Evstafy Ivanovich at least said a word when I passed by them yesterday. I will not hide from you, mother, that my debts and the poor state of my wardrobe are killing me, but this is nothing again, and I also beg you about this - do not despair, mother.",1,0.024987794,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 Bibi-the-Smoker suggested that they play cards. Boche slyly suggesting a most amusing game, the game of true confessions. Madame Gaudron thought of going to eat onion tarts on the Chaussee Clignancourt. Madame Lerat wanted to hear some stories. Gaudron said he wasn’t a bit put out and thought they were quite well off where they were, out of the downpour. He suggested sitting down to dinner immediately. That made some of them laugh; but the general ill-humor increased. They must decide on something unless they planned to sit there, staring at each other, until time for dinner. So for the next quarter of an hour, while the persistent rain continued, they tried to think of what to do. Lorilleux had to get his word in. He finally suggested a walk along the outer Boulevards to Pere Lachaise cemetery. They could visit the tomb of Heloise and Abelard. Madame Lorilleux exploded, no longer able to control herself. She was leaving, she was. There was a discussion after each proposal. Some said that this would put everybody to sleep or that that would make people think they were stupid. It was becoming ludicrous. Were we making fun of the world? She got dressed, she received the rain, and it was to lock herself up in a wine merchant's! No, no, she was tired of a wedding like that, she preferred her home. Coupeau and Lorilleux had to bar the door. She repeated:","It made her laugh. But the bad mood grew. It was getting boring by the end. Something had to be decided. No doubt we weren't counting on looking at each other like that with the whites of our eyes until dinner. So, for a quarter of an hour, in the face of the stubborn downpour, we racked our brains. Bibi-la-Grillade offered to play cards; Boche, of a naughty and sly temperament, knew a very funny little game, the game of the confessor; Madame Gaudron was talking about going to eat some onion tart, Chaussée Clignancourt; Madame Lerat would have liked stories to be told; Gaudron didn't bother, was there, only offered to sit down to eat right away. And, with each proposal, we discussed, we got angry: it was stupid, it would put everyone to sleep, we would take them for brats. Then, as Lorilleux, wanting to say his word, found something very simple, a walk on the outer boulevards to Père-Lachaise, where one could enter to see the tomb of Héloïse and Abélard, if the there was time, Madame Lorilleux, no longer containing herself, broke out. She was driving away, she! That's what she was doing!",1,0.02517884,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 In front, the richly ornamented priest was conducting the office, moving about and singing; incense poured forth, clouding the weak little flame of the candle on the altar—and with the sweet, stuffy sacrificial odour another seemed to commingle faintly: the smell of the infested city. On Sundays, for instance, the Poles never appeared on the beach. He guessed that they must be attending mass at San Marco. He hurried there; and stepping from the heat of the square into the golden twilight of the church, he found the boy he was hunting, bowed over a prie-dieu, praying. Lately he had not been relying simply on good luck and the daily routine for his chances to be near the boy and look at him. He pursued him, stalked him. Then he stood in the background, on the cracked mosaic floor, with people on all sides kneeling, murmuring, and making the sign of the cross. And the compact grandeur of this oriental temple weighed heavily on his senses.","Lately he has not contented himself with thanking the nearness and sight of beauty, the rule of the day, and luck; he pursued him, he pursued him. On Sundays, for example, the Poles never appeared on the beach; he guessed that they were attending mass in San Marco, he hurried there, and emerging from the glow of the square into the golden twilight of the sanctuary, he found the deprived man bent over a prayer desk at the service. Then he stood in the background, on a jagged mosaic floor, in the midst of kneeling, murmuring, cross-beating people, and the squat splendor of the oriental temple weighed heavily on his senses. In front the heavily decorated priest walked, worked and sang, incense rose up, it misted the feeble flames of the altar candles, and in the dull-sweet sacrificial scent something else seemed to mingle: the smell of the diseased city.",1,0.02517884,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 Ah! poor fellow!","I suspected as much! Oh, the poor pet. lexical = 60, order = 60 You know my aunt, Madame Lerat? poor fellow! Oh, the poor pet. Do you know my aunt Lerat? lexical = 60, order = 60 Next time she comes get her to tell you the story of the green-grocer who lives in her street. You know my aunt, Madame Lerat? Do you know my aunt Lerat? When she comes get her to tell you the story about the fruiterer who lives opposite her. lexical = 60, order = 60 Just fancy, the green-grocer-Drat it! Next time she comes get her to tell you the story of the green-grocer who lives in her street. When she comes get her to tell you the story about the fruiterer who lives opposite her. Just fancy that man-- lexical = 80, order = 60 the fire is hot; I must turn round again. Just fancy, the green-grocer-Drat it! Just fancy that man-- Damn it, how hot this fire is! I must turn round. lexical = 100, order = 100 the fire is hot; I must turn round again. Damn it, how hot this fire is! I must turn round. lexical = 60, order = 40 I’ll cook my left side this time.” the fire is hot; I must turn round again. Damn it, how hot this fire is! I must turn round. I'm going to roast my left side now.",1,0.02517884,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 “Yes, he, you see, sharp-legged!” - the peasants began to say and even scratch their heads, because from the long-term woman's management they all pretty much became emaciated. But this did not last long. The Russian muzhik is quick-witted and clever: he soon realized that the master, although he is quick and has a desire in him to take on a lot, but how exactly, how to take it on - he still does not understand this, he speaks somehow too competently and intricately, the peasant is not able to not into science. It turned out that the master and the peasant somehow did not understand each other at all, but simply did not sing together, did not adapt to deduce the same note. Tentetnikov began to notice that everything turned out somehow worse on the master's land than on the peasant's: it was sown earlier, it sprouted later. And they seemed to work well: he himself was present and ordered to give out even a cup of vodka for hard work. The muzhiks had long been earing rye, oats were spilling out and millet was bushing, but his bread had barely begun to go into the tube, the heel of the ear was not yet tied. In a word, the gentleman began to notice that the peasant was simply cheating, despite all the benefits. I tried to reproach, but received the following answer: “How is it possible, master, that we do not care about the master's, that is, the benefit? They themselves deigned to see how hard they tried when they plowed and sowed: they ordered vodka to be served at the chaporukha. What was the objection to this? “But why is it bad now?” the barin asked. ""Who knows! It can be seen that the worm has eaten up from below, and summer, you see, what it is: it didn’t rain at all. But the master saw that the worm did not eat up the bottom of the peasants, and the rain was somehow strange, in a strip: he pleased the peasant, but at least dropped a drop on the master's field. It was even more difficult for him to get along with the women. Every now and then they asked for time off from work, complaining about the burden of corvée. Strange affair! He completely destroyed all sorts of offerings of linen, berries, mushrooms and nuts, half reduced other work from them, thinking that the women would use this time for household chores, sew, clothe their husbands, multiply the gardens. It wasn't there! Idleness, fights, gossip and all sorts of quarrels started up between the fair sex, such that husbands now and then came to him with such words: “Master, calm down the demon woman! Exactly what the hell! there is no life from her!” Several times, reluctantly, he wanted to take up severity. But how to be strict? Baba came in like a woman, squealed so much , she was so ill, sick, she wrapped such nasty, nasty rags on herself - where did she get them from, God knows her. “Go, go only from my eyes, God be with you!” said poor Tentetnikov, and after that he had the pleasure of seeing how the sick woman, having gone out of the gate, grabbed some turnips with her neighbor and broke off her sides in such a way that even a healthy peasant would not be able to. He took it into his head to try to start some kind of school between them, but this turned out to be such nonsense that he hung his head - it was better not to even think about it! All this significantly cooled his zeal for the economy, and for the judicial case, and in general for activity. At work, he was already present almost without attention: his thoughts were far away, his eyes searched for foreign objects. During mowing, he did not look at the rapid lifting of sixty scythes at once and the measured, with a slight noise, falling under them in rows of tall grass; he looked instead at some meander of the river, along the banks of which a red-nosed, red-legged martyn walked - of course, a bird, and not a man; he watched how this martyn, having caught a fish, held it across his nose, as if considering whether to swallow or not to swallow, and at the same time gazing intently along the river, where in the distance another martyn was visible, who had not yet caught the fish, but was looking intently at martyn, who had already caught a fish. During the harvesting of bread, he did not look at how sheaves were stacked in shocks, crosses, and sometimes just a shish. He did not care whether lazily or quickly threw haystacks and laid luggage. Screwing up his eyes and gazing upwards at the vast expanse of the sky, he let his nostrils drink in the scent of the fields and his ears marvel at the voices of the numberless singers of the air when from all sides, from heaven and earth alike they unite in one chorus, without jarring on one another. The quail lashes its whip, the landrail utters its harsh grating cry among the grass, the linnets twitter and chirrup as they flit to and fro, the trills of the lark fall drop by drop down an unseen airy ladder, and the calls of the cranes, floating by in a long string, like the ringing notes of silver bugles, resound in the void of the melodiously vibrating ether. Whether work was done near, he was away from it; whether she was far away - his eyes searched for what was closer. And he looked like that absent-minded student who looks at a book, but at the same time sees a fig, substituted for him by a comrade. Finally and completely he stopped going to work, he completely abandoned both the court and all reprisals, sat down in the rooms and stopped receiving even the reports of the clerk.","Closing his eyes and raising his head upwards to the expanses of heaven, he allowed his sense of smell to drink in the smell of the fields, and his hearing to be amazed by the voices of the airy melodious population, when it from everywhere, from heaven and from earth, unites into one sound-consonant choir, without contradicting each other. The quail beats, the twitch twitches in the grass, the flying linnets rumble and chirp, the larks trill down the invisible air stairs, and the chirping of the cranes, rushing to the side in a line - the exact ringing of silver trumpets - is heard in the void of the resoundingly shaking air desert.",1,0.02517884,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 ""Are they ours, Grandfather? STROKED THE TWO GOATS IN TURN * * * Suddenly a shrill whistle was heard. Down from the heights above, the goats came springing one after another, with Peter in their midst. Are they both ours? * * * HEIDI TENDERLY STROKED THE TWO GOATS IN TURN HEIDI TENDERLY Heidi sprang forward with a cry of joy and rushed among the flock, greeting first one and then another of her old friends of the morning. As they neared the hut the goats stood still, and then two of their number, two beautiful, slender animals, one white and one brown, ran forward to where the grandfather was standing and began licking his hands, for he was holding a little salt which he always had ready for his goats on their return home. Then the wind began to roar louder than ever through the old fir trees; Heidi listened with delight to the sound, and it filled her heart so full of gladness that she skipped and danced round the old trees, as if some unheard of joy had come to her. The grandfather stood and watched her from the shed. Heidi tenderly stroked the two goats in turn, jumping about in her glee at the pretty little animals. Peter went on down the mountain with the remainder of his flock.","The old fir-trees were rustling and a mighty wind was roaring and howling through the tree-tops. Those sounds thrilled Heidi's heart and filled it with happiness and joy. She danced and jumped about under the trees, for those sounds made her feel as if a wonderful thing had happened to her. The grandfather stood under the door, watching her, when suddenly a shrill whistle was heard. Heidi stood still and the grandfather joined her outside. Down from the heights came one goat after another, with Peter in their midst. Uttering a cry of joy, Heidi ran into the middle of the flock, greeting her old friends. When they had all reached the hut, they stopped on their way and two beautiful slender goats came out of the herd, one of them white and the other brown. They came up to the grandfather, who held out some salt in his hands to them, as he did every night. Heidi tenderly caressed first one and then the other, seeming beside herself with joy. ""Are they ours, grandfather? Do they both belong to us?",1,0.02517884,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 - Indeed? If you hadn’t said so, I should never have thought so.’ ","Don't ask me, it doesn't look like it,"" she said.",1,0.025565214,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 Her turban was twice the size of one of the others; He was browed and his nose was somewhat flat; the big mouth, but red the lips; the teeth, which perhaps he discovered, showed to be sparse and not well set, although they were white as peeled almonds; in his hands he was carrying a thin canvas, and between it, as far as I could make out, a heart of mummy flesh, as it was dry and bruised. ""And when it is not so,"" replied the injured Durandarte with a faint and low voice, ""when it is not so, oh cousin! I say, patience and shuffle."" Montesinos told me how all those people in the procession were servants of Durandarte and Belerma, who there with their two masters were enchanted, and that the last, who carried her heart between the canvas and in her hands, was Mrs. Belerma, who with their maids four days a week they made that procession and sang, or, to put it better, they wept dirges over the body and over the wounded heart of their cousin; and that if she had seemed somewhat ugly to me, or not as beautiful as the fame had, it was the cause of the bad nights and worst days that she spent in that enchantment, as I could see in her large dark circles and her brittle color. At the end and end of the lines came a lady, who seemed so in gravity, also dressed in black, with white headdresses so stretched out and long, that they kissed the ground. And his yellowness and dark circles do not take the opportunity to be with mensil, ordinary in women, because for many months, and even years, he has not had him or appears through his doors, but of the pain that his heart feels for the one that he continually holds in his hands, that renews him and brings to mind the misfortune of his ill-accomplished lover; If this were not the case, the great Dulcinea del Toboso, so celebrated in all these contours, and even throughout the world, would hardly equal her in beauty, grace and verve. '' '' In this great screams and cries were heard, accompanied by deep groans and anguished sobs; I turned my head, and saw through the glass walls that a procession of two lines of most beautiful maidens passed through another room, all dressed in mourning, with white turbans on their heads, in the turquoise manner. Know that you have here in your presence, and open your eyes and you will see him, that great gentleman about whom the wise Merlin has prophesied so many things, that Don Quixote de la Mancha, I say, that again and with greater advantages than in past centuries has resurrected in those present the already forgotten cavalry errant, by whose means and favor it could be that we were disenchanted; that great deeds for great men are in store. '' And, turning on his side, he returned to his customary silence, without speaking another word.","Know that here in your presence—if you open your eyes you will see him—you have that great knight about whom the wise Merlin has made so many prophecies : I mean Don Quixote of La Mancha, who once again, and to greater advantage than in past times, has revived in the present a long-forgotten knight errantry, and through his mediation and by his favor it may be that the spell over us will be broken, for great deeds are reserved for great men.’ ‘And if this is not the case,’ responded the mournful Durandarte in a low, faint voice, ‘if this is not the case, dear cousin, I say have patience and shuffle the deck.’ And turning on his side, he resumed his customary silence and did not utter another word. At this point a great weeping and wailing was heard, along with deep moans and anguished sobs; I turned my head and saw through the crystal walls a procession of two lines of beautiful maidens passing through another chamber, all of them dressed in mourning and wearing white turbans on their heads, in the Turkish fashion. At the very end and conclusion of the two lines came a matron, for her gravity made her seem one, also dressed in black, and wearing a white train so lengthy and long it brushed the ground. Her turban was twice as large as the largest of the others; she was beetle-browed and snub-nosed; her mouth was large, but her lips were red; her teeth, which she may have shown, were few in number and crooked, though as white as peeled almonds; in her hands she carried a delicate cloth, and in it, as far as I could tell, was a heart that had been mummified, it looked so dry and shriveled. Montesinos told me that all the people in the procession were servants of Durandarte and Belerma, enchanted along with their master and mistress, and that the last one, who carried the heart in the cloth, was Señora Belerma herself, who along with her maidens walked in that procession four days a week and sang, or rather wept, dirges over the body and wounded heart of his cousin; and if she had seemed rather ugly, and not as beautiful as her fame proclaimed, the cause was the bad nights and worse days she had spent in that enchantment, as one could see in the deep circles under her eyes and her sickly color. ‘ And her sallow complexion and deep circles arise not from the monthly distress common in women, because for many months, even years, she has not had it nor has it appeared at her portals, but from the sorrow her heart feels for the one she continually holds in her hands, which always renews and brings to mind the affliction of her unfortunate lover; if this were not the case, then the great Dulcinea of Toboso, so celebrated here and in the rest of the world, would barely be her equal in beauty, grace, and charm.’",1,0.025957355,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 - Get married ! at twenty-one! You fixed that! You only have one more permission to ask! a formality. Sit down, sir. Well, you have had a revolution since I had the honor of seeing you. The Jacobins had the upper hand. You must have been happy. Haven't you been a republican since you were a baron? You accommodate that. The republic makes a barony sauce. Are you decorated for July? have you taken the Louvre a little, sir? Quite near here, in the Rue Saint-Antoine, opposite the Rue des Nonamdières, there is a cannon-ball incrusted in the wall of the third story of a house with this inscription: ‘July 28th, 1830.’ Go see it. It has a good effect. Ah! they do pretty things, your friends! By the way, aren't they making a fountain in place of the monument to M. le Duc de Berry? So you want to get married? whose ? can one without indiscretion ask to whom?","There is here very close, rue Saint-Antoine, opposite the rue des Nonaindières, a ball embedded in the wall on the third floor of a house with this inscription: July 28, 1830.",1,0.025957355,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 [1929?]","And so I am, futile and sensitive, capable of violent and absorbing impulses, bad and good, noble and base, but never of a feeling that subsists, never of an emotion that continues, and enters the substance of the soul.",1,0.026355354,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 ‘He knows of course what this loss means to me. He can’t want my ruin. Wasn’t he my friend? Wasn’t I fond of him? But it’s not his fault. What’s he to do if he has such luck? … And it’s not my fault either,’ he thought to himself. ‘I have done nothing wrong. Have I killed anyone, or insulted or wished harm to anyone? Why such a terrible misfortune? And when did it begin? Just now, when I came to this table, wishing to win a hundred roubles to buy that sewing box for mama's birthday and go home, I was so happy, so free, so cheerful! And I did not realize how happy I was! When did that end and when did this new, terrible state of things begin? What marked the change? I sat all the time in this same place at this table, chose and placed cards, and watched those broad-boned agile hands in the same way. When did it happen and what has happened? I am well and strong, and still the same and in the same place. No, it can’t be! Surely it will all end in nothing!’","Such a little while ago I came to this table with the thought of winning a hundred rubles to buy that casket for Mama’s name-day and then going home. I was so happy, so free, so light-hearted!",1,0.026556572,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 He talks to me about her good mother—how, on her deathbed, she handed over house and children to Lotte, who since then has been quite changed; how, through having to care for a household and face the more serious aspects of life, she has become a real mother, and not a moment of her time passes without work or an act of love; how, in spite of all this, her blitheness and vitality have never forsaken her. I wander along at his side, pick flowers, arrange them carefully into a bouquet and…throw them into the stream rushing by and look after them as they are slowly sucked down. I forget whether I told you that Albert is to remain here. He has received a government appointment, with a very good salary; and I understand he is in high favour at court. I have rarely seen his equal when it comes to orderliness and diligence in matters of business.","I don’t know whether I wrote to you that Albert intends to remain here, and that the Prince will let him have a tidy little income because he is well liked at court.",1,0.026759284,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 ""And what of our old comrades?"" There's a budget of news for you!"" Lastly, the Commission has now concluded its sittings.","Why do you frighten me with your indecision, bring me to doubt? I am your goal, you say, and you walk towards it so timidly, slowly; and you still have a long way to go: you must become taller than me. I expect it from you!",1,0.027169231,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 “Well, then it is a precedent for you for the future—though don’t suppose I should venture to instruct you after the articles you publish about crime! No, I simply make bold to state it by way of fact, if I took this man or that for a criminal, why, I ask, should I worry him prematurely, even if I had evidence against him? In one case I may be bound, for instance, to arrest a man at once, but another may be in quite a different position, you know, so why shouldn’t I let him walk about the town a bit, he-he-he! But I see you don’t quite understand, so I’ll give you a clearer example. If I put him in prison too soon, I may very likely give him, so to speak, moral support, he-he! You’re laughing?” (Raskolnikov didn’t even think of laughing: he sat with his lips pressed together, never taking his inflamed gaze off Porfiry Petrovich’s eyes.) “Yes, that is the case, with some types especially, for men are so different. You say evidence. Well, there may be evidence. But evidence, you know, can generally be taken two ways. I am an examining lawyer and a weak man, I confess it. I should like to make a proof, so to say, mathematically clear, I should like to make a chain of evidence such as twice two is four, it ought to be a direct, irrefutable proof! And if I shut him up too soon—even though I might be convinced he was the man, I should very likely be depriving myself of the means of getting further evidence against him. And how? By giving him, so to speak, a definite position, I shall put him out of suspense and set his mind at rest, so that he will retreat into his shell. They say that at Sevastopol, soon after Alma,43 the clever people were in a terrible fright that the enemy would attack openly and take Sevastopol at once. But when they saw that the enemy preferred a regular siege, they were delighted, I am told and reassured, for the thing would drag on for two months at least. You’re laughing, you don’t believe me again? Of course, you’re right, too. You’re right , you’re right. These are special cases, I admit. But you must observe this, my dear Rodion Romanovich, the general case, the case for which all legal forms and rules are intended, for which they are calculated and laid down in books, does not exist at all, for the reason that every case, every crime for instance, as soon as it actually occurs, at once becomes a thoroughly special case and sometimes a case unlike any that’s gone before. Very comic cases of that sort sometimes occur. If I leave one man completely alone, if I don’t touch him and don’t worry him, but let him know or at least suspect every moment that I know all about it and am watching him day and night, and if he is in continual suspicion and terror, he’ll be bound to lose his head. He’ll come forward of his own accord, or maybe do something which will make it as plain as twice two is four—it’s delightful. It may be so with a simple peasant, but with one of our sort, an intelligent man cultivated on a certain side, it’s a dead certainty. For, my dear fellow, it’s a very important matter to know on what side a man is cultivated. And then there are nerves , there are nerves, you have overlooked them! Why, they are all sick, nervous and irritable! . . . And then how angry they all are! That I assure you is a regular gold mine for us. And it’s no anxiety to me, him running about the town free! Let him, let him walk about for a bit! I know well enough that I’ve caught him and that he won’t escape me. Where could he escape to, he-he? Abroad, perhaps? A Pole will escape abroad, but not here, especially as I am watching and have taken measures. Will he escape into the depths of the country? But you know, peasants live there, real rude Russian peasants. A modern cultivated man would prefer prison to living with such strangers as our peasants. He-he! But that’s all nonsense, and on the surface. It’s not merely that he has nowhere to run to, he is psychologically unable to escape me , he-he! What an expression! Through a law of nature he can’t escape me if he had anywhere to go. Have you seen a butterfly round a candle? That’s how he will keep circling and circling round me. Freedom will lose its attractions. He’ll begin to brood, he’ll weave a tangle round himself, he’ll worry himself to death! What’s more he will provide me with a mathematical proof—if I only give him a long enough interval . . . And he’ll keep circling round me, getting nearer and nearer and then—flop! He’ll fly straight into my mouth and I’ll swallow him, and that will be very amusing, he-he-he! You don’t believe me?”","Raskolnikov had no intention of laughing. He was sitting with compressed lips, his feverish eyes fixed on Porfiry Petrovich’s.",1,0.027169231,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 Thank God that the first blow and the first shock are over and that you have taken it as you have, and don’t look on me as a false friend, or an egoist for keeping you here and deceiving you because I love you as my angel and could not bring myself to part from you. she does nothing more than grumble; as for other people, they don’t matter, one mustn’t borrow money of them, that’s all, and to conclude my explanations I tell you, Varvara Alexyevna, that your respect for me I esteem more highly than anything on earth, and I am comforted by it now in my temporary troubles. At home our landlady did nothing but shout, and now that with the help of your ten roubles I have paid part of what I owe her","At home, the hostess screams, but now, when I paid her part of the debt with the help of your ten rubles, she only grumbles, but nothing more. As for the rest, they are nothing; they just do not need to ask for a loan, otherwise they will do nothing. And in conclusion of my explanations, I will tell you, mother, that I consider your respect for me above everything in the world, and thus I now console myself in my temporary disturbances. Thank God that the first blow and the first troubles have passed and you have accepted it in such a way that you do not consider me a treacherous friend and selfish person for keeping you at my place and deceiving you, unable to part with you and loving you as mine. angel.",1,0.027376488,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 40 When Levin, having loaded his gun, moved on, the sun, although not yet visible behind the clouds, had already risen. The month, having lost all its brilliance, like a cloud, shone white in the sky; there were no more stars to be seen. The lobes, formerly silvery with dew, now gilded. The rust was all amber. The blue of the grasses turned into yellowish greens. Marsh birds swarmed on the bushes by the brook, shining with dew and forming a long shadow. Jackdaws flew into the fields, and a barefoot boy was already driving the horses towards an old man, who had got up from under his caftan and was scratching himself. A hawk woke up and sat on a haystack, turning its head from side to side, looking with displeasure at the marsh. The smoke from the shots gleamed like milk on the green grass.","The hawk woke up and sat on a hayk, turning his head from side to side, looking displeased at the swamp. Jackdaws flew into the field, and the barefoot boy was already urging the horses to the old man who had risen from under the caftan and was scratching himself.",1,0.027376488,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 He rode in his light chariot with a few natives as guides. He came to the ford, and from a secluded spot in the mountains on the north bank, he looked about him. The whole country was mountainous and difficult, impassable for any carriage. So he got out and went afoot. Presently, from a hill he saw a long winding valley, like a huge serpent. The sides were very precipitous and bare. However, a road ran through the middle. “What is the name of the valley?” asked Zhuge Liang. “It is called 'Coiled Serpent Valley,'“ said the guides. “At the other end you come into the high road to Three Rivers. The road goes by a valley called 'Talang See.' “ “The very thing,” cried Zhuge Liang. “Surely this is providence. I shall score a great success here.” Having seen enough, he retraced his steps, found his chariot, and returned to camp. Arrived at the camp, Ma Dai was called and put in charge of the preparations. Zhuge Liang gave him an order: “I will give you the ten black painted carts, and you are to get a thousand long bamboo poles. Open the carts, and follow my instructions there. Then you are to keep the two ends of the Coiled Serpent Valley. Half a month is the deadline, and all of these must be performed with the most perfect secrecy under military law and punishment.” Then Zhao Zilong is given his instructions. But do not come looking for me until after the fifteenth battle.’ Make camp there. In two weeks I want you to “lose” fifteen battles and abandon up to seven camps. ‘Go and control the end of the valley that leads to Sanjiang and make sure you are ready.’ Again Kong Ming gives his orders, and Zhao Zilong departs to carry them out. The most complex instructions are given to Wei Yan. ‘ Go to the banks of Peach Blossom river. Now, when the Man soldiers attack, abandon the camp and retreat to where you will see a white flag flying. This is not quite what Wei Yan hoped he would be called upon to do, but he accepts, even though his heart is troubled by these strange commands. Next, Zhang Yi was sent to make a stockade at a certain indicated point, and Zhang Ni and Ma Zhong was told to lead the Mang soldiers who had surrendered, and other orders were given.","Next Zhao Yun was sent to a point on the Three River road; Wei Yan to camp at the Peach Flowers Ford. Zhuge Liang told Wei Yan, “If the Mangs come over the river, you are to abandon the camp and march toward a certain white flag you will see. Further, in half a month you would have to acknowledge defeat some fifteen times and abandon seven camps. On no account are you to come to interview me even after fourteen defeats.” Wei Yan went off, not a little hipped at the prospect, but prepared to obey.",1,0.027585285,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 40 We are going to see M. Jean.” “Thy father! Cosette, thy father more than ever. Cosette, I guess it. You told me that you had never received the letter that I sent you by Gavroche. It must have fallen into his hands. Cosette, he went to the barricade to save me. As it is a necessity with him to be an angel, he saved others also; he saved Javert. He rescued me from that gulf to give me to you. He carried me on his back through that frightful sewer. Ah! I am a monster of ingratitude. Cosette, after having been your providence, he became mine. Just imagine, there was a terrible quagmire enough to drown one a hundred times over, to drown one in mire. Cosette! he made me traverse it. I will pass the rest of my life in venerating him. Yes, that must be it, do you see, Cosette? We are going to bring him back, take him with us, whether he will or no, he shall never leave us again. If he is only at home! If we only find him! I had fainted; I saw nothing , I heard nothing, I could know nothing of my own fate. Gavroche must have delivered my letter to him. All is explained. You understand.”","I was unconscious; I saw nothing, I heard nothing, I could know nothing of my own adventure. We are going to bring him back, to take him with us, whether he is willing or not, he shall never leave us again. If only he is at home! Provided only that we can find him, I will pass the rest of my life in venerating him. Yes, that is how it should be, do you see, Cosette?",1,0.027585285,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 The trees on these mountains are my company, the clear waters of these streams are my mirrors; and to the trees and the waters I reveal my thoughts and my beauty. I am the distant fire and the far-off sword. Those who have loved me for my looks I have disabused with my words. If desires feed on hopes, and since I have given no hope to Grisóstomo or to any other man regarding those desires, it is correct to say that his obstinacy, not my cruelty, is what killed him. And if you claim that his thoughts were virtuous, and for this reason I was obliged to respond to them, I say that when he revealed to me the virtue of his desire, on the very spot where his grave is now being dug, I told him that mine was to live perpetually alone and have only the earth enjoy the fruit of my seclusion and the spoils of my beauty; and if he, despite that discouragement, wished to persist against all hope and sail into the wind, why be surprised if he drowned in the middle of the gulf of his folly? If I’d encouraged him, I should have been false; if I’d gratified him, I should have been acting against my own intentions, better than his. He persisted although disabused, he despaired although not hated: and now you tell me whether it’s just for me to be blamed for his grief!","And if desires are kept alive on hope, I have never given any hope to Grisóstomo or fulfilled any man’s desires, so it can truly be said of all of them that they were killed by their own obstinacy rather than by my cruelty. And if it’s objected that his intentions were honourable and that for this reason I should have been more responsive to him, I reply that when, in that very place where his grave is being dug now, he revealed those honourable intentions of his to me, I told him that mine were to live in perpetual solitude and to allow nothing but the earth to enjoy the fruits of my seclusion and the remains of my beauty. If, after I’d spoken as plainly as that, he still chose to persevere against all hope and sail against the wind, is it surprising that he sank in the middle of the gulf of his own folly?",1,0.027795624,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 “Thus I imagined she thought, or rather felt, and indeed it would have been impossible for it to be otherwise. She had been educated to believe that in this world there is only one thing worthy of anyone’s attention—love. How to keep it from being wasted? “She grew fuller after she stopped bearing children, and her malady—the constant worriment over the children— began to disappear. It did not really disappear, but she awoke, as it were, from a drunken stupor; she began to remember and to see that there was a whole world, a divine world, with joys she had forgotten and in which she did not know how to live—a wonderful world which she did not understand at all! ‘ “I am a little tired, but I will go on with my story. She had become married, she had got some notion of what this love was, but it was far from what had been promised, from what she expected. She had undergone the loss of many illusions; she had borne many sufferings, and then that unexpected torment—so many children! His face had undergone a complete change: a sad look came into his eyes and a strange sort of smile curved his lips. Yes,” he began again, after he had lit a cigarette. There is plenty of time left; it has not begun to grow light yet. Time is fleeting—it will not return.’","His face became completely different, his eyes were miserable, and a kind of strange almost smile wrinkled his lips. I'm a little tired, but I'll tell you. There's still plenty of time, it hasn't dawned yet. Yes, sir,” he began again, lighting a cigarette. - She has gained weight since she stopped giving birth, and this illness - eternal suffering for children - began to pass; not only to pass, but she seemed to wake up from drunkenness, came to her senses and saw that there was a whole world of God with its joys, about which she had forgotten, but in which she did not know how to live, the world of God, which she did not understand at all. “How not to miss! Time will pass, you won’t return!” So it seems to me that she thought, or rather felt, and it was impossible for her to think and feel otherwise: she was brought up in the fact that there is only one thing in the world worthy of attention - love. She got married, received something from this love, but not only far from what was promised, what was expected, but also a lot of disappointments, sufferings, and then unexpected torment - children!",1,0.028007522,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 40 No, no, do not make me completely despair! she yelled. What do you want me for? What are you thinking about? Do you think I should…. My God, let's not talk about this anymore, please. Go then! Now you have ruined everything with just a few stupid words, even all our conversations you have ruined, and now we can not meet again. Why did you do that? No if I had known so wrong! Yeah I beg you, don’t mention this again, for your sake as well as mine. You understand then well that I can not be anything to you ; I do not understand how you have ever been able to think that. So let it not last any longer. They have to go home and try to take it with them. My God, it sincerely hurts you too; but I can not act differently.","Al that sounds pretty crap to me, Looks like BT aint for me either.",1,0.028220987,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 It happened in front of that installation, on the other side of which the {328}counselor stood at first. Joachim sat down in a kind of shoemaker's chair in front of a board against which he pressed his chest and also wrapped his arms around it; and with kneading movements the assistant improved his position by pushing Joachim's shoulders further forward and massaging his back. Then he went behind the camera to examine the view, like any photographer, stooped, legs apart, expressed his satisfaction and admonished Joachim, stepping aside, to take a deep breath and, until it was all over, to hold his breath. Joachim's rounded back stretched and stood still. At that moment the assistant at the switchboard had done the necessary thing. For two seconds terrifying forces, the exertion of which was necessary to penetrate matter, played currents of thousands of volts, hundreds of thousands, Hans Castorp thought he remembered. Scarcely subdued to the end, the powers sought to find vent in byways. They could hardly be confined to their office, they tried to escape through other outlets: there were explosions like pistol-shots, blue sparks on the measuring apparatus; long lightnings crackled along the walls. Somewhere a red light, like an eye, silently and menacingly peered into the room, and a vial in Joachim's back was filling with green. Then everything calmed down; the light phenomena disappeared and Joachim let out his breath with a sigh. It had happened.",Discharges cracked like shots. The measuring apparatus crackled blue. Long bolts of lightning crackled along the wall.,1,0.028220987,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 0 “Stop grumbling,” said Monkey. “You'll be the death of me, you ape,” said Sanzang. That night the horse never stopped, and they kept on till dawn. “Because of your greed I've had to stay awake all night.”","“Don’t be afraid. It’s you.” “So it is!” Pigsy and Sandy exclaimed, clapping their hands. “Congratulations!” added the boatman.",1,0.029090757,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 Candide first kissed the bottom of the commandant's robe, then they sat down to table. ""So you are German?"" said the Jesuit to him in that language. "" Yes, my Reverend Father,"" said Candide. Both of them, while pronouncing these words, looked at each other with extreme surprise and an emotion of which they were not the masters. “And which country of Germany are you from? said the Jesuit. — From the filthy province of Vestphalia, said Candide: I was born in the castle of Thunder-ten-tronckh. — O heaven! Is it possible? cried the commander. - What a miracle! exclaimed Candide. ""Could it be you?"" said the commander. ""That is not possible,"" said Candide. They both fall backwards, they kiss, they shed streams of tears. "" What! would it be you, my Reverend Father? you, the brother of the beautiful Cunégonde! you, who were killed by the Bulgarians! you, the son of Monsieur le Baron! you, Jesuit in Paraguay! We must admit that this world is a strange thing. O Pangloss! Pangloss! how glad you would be if you had not been hanged! »",you the baron’s son!,1,0.02931223,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 Then I mounted my horse and traveled for a few miles. I stopped my horse and looked back at the scenery in Longzhong. Sure enough, the mountains were not high but elegant, the waters were not deep but clear; : Watching it endlessly. Suddenly I saw a person, with a handsome face, handsome and handsome, wearing a happy towel, wearing a soap cloth robe, and a stick and quinoa coming from a remote mountain road. Xuande said: ""This must be Mr. Wolong!"" He quickly dismounted from his horse and went forward to salute, and asked, ""Is it not Mr. Wolong? "" The man asked, ""Who is the general?"" ""I am not Kongming, but a friend of Kongming: Boling Cui Zhouping."" Xuande said: ""I have heard the name for a long time, and I am fortunate to meet. I am begging for the right to sit on the ground, please teach me a word. "" The two sat opposite each other on the stone in the forest. , Guan and Zhang Shi stand on the side. Zhou Ping said, ""Why do you want to see Confucius?"" Xuande said, ""Fang is in great chaos today, and the clouds are disturbing in all directions. If you want to see Confucius, ask for the policy of peace and stability of the country. "" It is benevolence, but since ancient times, the governance of chaos has been impermanent: since the Emperor Gaozu cut snakes and revolted, and punished the immoral Qin, it was from chaos and entered governance; to the two hundred years of sorrow and peace, the time of peace was long, Wang Mang usurped and revolted. Governance led to chaos; Guangwu rejuvenation, reorganization of the foundation, and chaos led to governance again; two hundred years ago, the people have been in peace for a long time, so wars have arisen again and again. The general wants to make Kong Ming mediate the heaven and the earth, and make up the universe, it is not easy to do it, and it will only take a lot of effort. Haven't you heard that ""those who follow the sky are easy, those who go against the sky are laborious"", ""where the number is, it can't be rationalized and it is taken away; where the fate is, people Can't you make it stronger? "" Xuande said: ""What the teacher said is sincere. But if you are a Han soldier, you should be able to help the Han family. How dare you entrust the number and life?"" Zhou Ping said: ""The husband of the mountains and the wild , it is not enough to discuss the affairs of the world, and it is suitable to be asked by Ming, so I am talking about it."" Xuande said: ""Mr. Meng saw you. But I don't know where Kongming went?"" Zhou Ping said: ""I also want to visit, but I don't know about it. Where are you going?"" Xuande said, ""Please, sir, come to our county with you, what is it?"" The three brothers also mounted and started homeward. “I am too dilatory, too fond of leisure and ease, and no longer have any ambitions. But I will see you another time.” And with these words Cui Zhouping saluted and left. Presently Zhang Fei said, “We have not found Zhuge Liang, and we have had to listen to the wild ravings of this so-called scholar. There is the whole result of this journey.” Xuande said: ""This is also the words of a hermit.""","Zhou Ping said, ""The foolishness is quite happy and idle, and I don't want to be famous for a long time; let's see you tomorrow."" Xuande went on horseback with Guan and Zhang. Zhang Fei said: ""Kong Ming couldn't visit again, but he met this corrupt Confucian and chatted for a long time!""",1,0.02931223,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 60 “Has that Jade-Face rotted your brain?” replied Iron-Fan, reckless from drink. “Surely you remember—twist the seventh red thread on the handle, chant the magic words ‘hui-xu-he-xi-xi-chui-hu,’ and it will grow twelve feet long and extinguish any blaze!” Monkey decided to seize the moment. Can this really be it? Iron-Fan now rubbed her powdered cheek against his face. Carefully committing these instructions to memory, Monkey popped the fan into his mouth, then rubbed his face and revealed his true identity. “How can such a tiny thing extinguish fire?” he wondered to himself. “Put the fan away and have another drink,” she urged. “What are you thinking about?”","Mother, mother is right, please sit up, wait for me to pray a few times, then you should be worshipping the church, and you should be thanking your relatives, and you will be a child. He's a son-in-law who saves his time. I'm sitting, do you worship. Hey! The silver candles in the hall were full of brilliance, and the idiot bowed up and said, ""Mother, do you match that sister with me?"" His mother-in-law said, ""It is these problems: I want to match the eldest daughter to you, and I am afraid that the two girls will be strange. If you want to match two women with you, you will be afraid of three women; if you want to match three women with you, you will be afraid of the big girl; so it is uncertain."" Bajie said: ""Mother, if you are afraid of fighting, you will all be with me, so you don't have to make trouble. It's arguing and disrupting the family law.",1,0.029535338,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 Bao-yu stood there looking puzzled. It was some moments before it dawned on him that he had been hoaxed. Xue Pan was by this time being apologetic – bowing repeatedly and pumping his hands to show how sorry he was: ‘Don’t blame the lad!’ He hurriedly knelt down. He said with a smile, ""If my uncle called you, you came out so fast."" He smiled and said, ""Don't blame me."" Bao-yu saw that he could do nothing, and might as well accept with a good grace. ‘I don’t mind being made a fool of,’ he said, ‘but I think it was going a bit far to bring my father into it. I think perhaps I’d better tell Aunt Xue and see what she thinks about it all.’ ‘Now look here, old chap,’ said Xue Pan, getting agitated, ‘it was only because I wanted to fetch you out a bit quicker. I admit it was very wrong of me to make free with your Parent, but after all, you’ve only got to mention my father next time you want to fool me and we’ll be quits!’ ‘Aiyo!’ said Bao-yu. ‘Worse and worse!’ He turned to Tealeaf: ‘Treacherous little beast! What are you still kneeling for?’ Tealeaf kotowed and rose to his feet.",he said. ‘It wasn’t his fault. I talked him into it.’,1,0.029760094,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 At first, K. was astonished at this orderly explanation, but then, just as quietly as the painter, he said, “I think you're contradicting yourself.” “How's that?” asked the painter patiently, leaning back with a smile. This smile made K. feel as if he were examining not the words of the painter but seeking out inconsistencies in the procedures of the court itself. Nonetheless, he continued unabashed and said, “You remarked earlier that the court cannot be approached with reasoned proofs, you later restricted this to the open court, and now you go so far as to say that an innocent man needs no assistance in court. That entails a contradiction. Moreover, you said earlier that the judges can be influenced personally but now you insist that an absolute acquittal, as you call it, can never be attained through personal influence. That entails a second contradiction.” “It's quite easy to clear up these contradictions,” said the painter. “We're talking about two different things here, there's what it says in the law and there's what I know from my own experience , you shouldn't get the two confused. I've never seen it in writing, but the law does, of course, say on the one hand that the innocent will be set free, but on the other hand it doesn't say that the judges can be influenced. But in my experience it's the other way round. I don't know of any absolute acquittals but I do know of many times when a judge has been influenced. It's possible, of course, that there was no innocence in any of the cases I know about. But is that likely? Not a single innocent defendant in so many cases? When I was a boy I used to listen closely to my father when he told us about court cases at home, and the judges that came to his studio talked about the court, in our circles nobody talks about anything else; I hardly ever got the chance to go to court myself but always made use of it when I could, I've listened to countless trials at important stages in their development, I've followed them closely as far as they could be followed, and I have to say that I've never seen a single acquittal.” “So. Not a single acquittal,” said K., as if talking to himself and his hopes. “That confirms the impression I already have of the court. So there's no point in it from this side either. They could replace the whole court with a single hangman.” “You shouldn't generalise,” said the painter, dissatisfied, “I've only been talking about my own experience.” “Well that's enough,” said K., “or have you heard of any acquittals that happened earlier?” “They say there have been some acquittals earlier,” the painter answered, “but it's very hard to be sure about it. The courts don't make their final conclusions public, not even the judges are allowed to know about them, so that all we know about these earlier cases are just legends. But most of them did involve absolute acquittals, you can believe that, but they can't be proved. On the other hand, you shouldn't forget all about them either, I'm sure there is some truth to them, and they are very beautiful, I've painted a few pictures myself depicting these legends.” “My assessment will not be altered by mere legends,” said K. “I don't suppose it's possible to cite these legends in court, is it?” The painter laughed. “No, you can't cite them in court,” he said. “Then there's no point in talking about them,” said K., he wanted, for the time being, to accept anything the painter told him, even if he thought it unlikely or contradicted what he had been told by others. He did not now have the time to examine the truth of everything the painter said or even to disprove it, he would have achieved as much as he could if the painter would help him in any way even if his help would not be decisive. As a result, he said, “So let's pay no more attention to absolute acquittal, but you mentioned two other possibilities.” “Apparent acquittal and deferment. They're the only possibilities,” said the painter. “But before we talk about them, would you not like to take your coat off? You must be hot.” “Yes,” said K., who until then had paid attention to nothing but the painter's explanations, but now that he had had the heat pointed out to him his brow began to sweat heavily. “It's almost unbearable.” The painter nodded as if he understood K.'s discomfort very well. “Could we not open the window?” asked K. “No,” said the painter. “It's only a fixed pane of glass, it can't be opened.” K. now realised that all this time he had been hoping the painter would suddenly go over to the window and pull it open. He had prepared himself even for the fog that he would breathe in through his open mouth. The thought that here he was entirely cut off from the air made him feel dizzy. He tapped lightly on the bedspread beside him and, with a weak voice, said, “That is very inconvenient and unhealthy.” “Oh no,” said the painter in defence of his window, “as it can't be opened this room retains the heat better than if the window were double glazed, even though it's only a single pane. There's not much need to air the room as there's so much ventilation through the gaps in the wood, but when I do want to I can open one of my doors, or even both of them.” K. was slightly consoled by this explanation and looked around to see where the second door was. The painter saw him do so and said, “It's behind you, I had to hide it behind the bed.” Only then was K. able to see the little door in the wall. “It's really much too small for a studio here,” said the painter, as if he wanted to anticipate an objection K. would make. “I had to arrange things as well as I could. That's obviously a very bad place for the bed, in front of the door. For instance when the judge I'm painting at present comes he always comes through the door by the bed, and I've even given him a key to this door so that he can wait for me here in the studio when I'm not home. Although nowadays he usually comes early in the morning when I'm still asleep. And of course, it always wakes me up when I hear the door opened beside the bed, however fast asleep I am. If you could hear the way I curse him as he climbs over my bed in the morning you'd lose all respect for judges. I suppose I could take the key away from him but that'd only make things worse. It only takes a tiny effort to break any of the doors here off their hinges.” All the time the painter was speaking, K. was considering whether he should take off his coat, but he finally realised that, if he didn't do so, he would be quite unable to stay here any longer, so he took off his frock coat and lay it on his knee so that he could put it back on again as soon as the conversation was over. He had hardly done this when one of the girls called out, “Now he's taken his coat off!” and they could all be heard pressing around the gaps in the planks to see the spectacle for themselves. “The girls think I'm going to paint your portrait,” said the painter, “and that's why you're taking your coat off.” “I see,” said K., only slightly amused by this, as he felt little better than he had before even though he now sat in his shirtsleeves. With some irritation he asked, “What did you say the two other possibilities were?” He had already forgotten the terms used. “Apparent acquittal and deferment,” said the painter. ""It lies with you to choose between them. You can get either of them if I help you, but it'll take some effort of course, the difference between them is that apparent acquittal needs concentrated effort for a while and that deferment takes much less effort but it has to be sustained. Now then, apparent acquittal. If that's what you want I'll write down an assertion of your innocence on a piece of paper. The text for an assertion of this sort was passed down to me from my father and it's quite unassailable. I take this assertion round to the judges I know. So I'll start off with the one I'm currently painting, and put the assertion to him when he comes for his sitting this evening. I'll lay the assertion in front of him, explain that you're innocent and give him my personal guarantee of it. And that's not just a superficial guarantee, it's a real one and it's binding.” The painter's eyes seemed to show some reproach of K. for wanting to impose that sort of responsibility on him. “That would be very kind of you"", said K. “And would the judge then believe you and nonetheless not pass an absolute acquittal?” “It's like I just said,” answered the painter. “And anyway, it's not entirely sure that all the judges would believe me, many of them, for instance, might want me to bring you to see them personally. So then you'd have to come along too. But at least then, if that happens, the matter is half way won, especially as I'd teach you in advance exactly how you'd need to act with the judge concerned, of course. What also happens, though, is that there are some judges who'll turn me down in advance, and that's worse. I'll certainly make several attempts, but still, we'll have to forget about them, but at least we can afford to do that as no one judge can pass the decisive verdict. Then when I've got enough judges' signatures on this document I take it to the judge who's concerned with your case. I might even have his signature already, in which case things develop a bit quicker than they would do otherwise. But there aren't usually many hold ups from then on, and that's the time that the defendant can feel most confident. It's odd, but true, that people feel more confidence in this time than they do after they've been acquitted. There's no particular exertion needed now. When he has the document asserting the defendant's innocence, guaranteed by a number of other judges, the judge can acquit you without any worries, and although there are still several formalities to be gone through there's no doubt that that's what he'll do as a favour to me and several other acquaintances. You, however, walk out the court and you're free.” “So, then I'll be free,” said K., hesitantly. “That's right,” said the painter, “but only apparently free or, to put it a better way, temporarily free, as the most junior judges, the ones I know, they don't have the right to give the final acquittal. Only the highest judge can do that, in the court that's quite of reach for you, for me and for all of us. We don't know how things look there and, incidentally, we don't want to know. The right to acquit people is a major privilege and our judges don't have it, but they do have the right to free people from the indictment. That's to say, if they're freed in this way then for the time being the charge is withdrawn but it's still hanging over their heads and it only takes an order from higher up to bring it back into force. And as I'm in such good contact with the court I can also tell you how the difference between absolute and apparent acquittal is described, just in a superficial way, in the directives to the court offices. If there's an absolute acquittal all proceedings should stop, everything disappears from the process, not just the indictment but the trial and even the acquittal disappears, everything just disappears. With an apparent acquittal it's different. When that happens, nothing has changed except that the case for your innocence, for your acquittal and the grounds for the acquittal have been made stronger. Apart from that, proceedings go on as before, the court offices continue their business and the case gets passed to higher courts, gets passed back down to the lower courts and so on, backwards and forwards, sometimes faster, sometimes slower, to and fro. It's impossible to know exactly what's happening while this is going on. Seen from outside it can sometimes seem that everything has been long since forgotten, the documents have been lost and the acquittal is complete. No-one familiar with the court would believe it. No documents ever get lost, the court forgets nothing. One day—no-one expects it—some judge or other picks up the documents and looks more closely at them, he notices that this particular case is still active, and orders the defendant's immediate arrest. I've been talking here as if there's a long delay between apparent acquittal and re-arrest, that is quite possible and I do know of cases like that, but it's just as likely that the defendant goes home after he's been acquitted and finds somebody there waiting to re-arrest him. Then, of course, his life as a free man is at an end.” “And does the trial start over again?” asked K., finding it hard to believe. “The trial will always start over again,” said the painter, “but there is, once again as before, the possibility of getting an apparent acquittal. Once again, the accused has to muster all his strength and mustn't give up.” The painter said that last phrase possibly as a result of the impression that K., whose shoulders had dropped somewhat, gave on him. “But to get a second acquittal,” asked K., as if in anticipation of further revelations by the painter, “is that not harder to get than the first time?” “As far as that's concerned,” answered the painter, “there's nothing you can say for certain. You mean, do you, that the second arrest would have an adverse influence on the judge and the verdict he passes on the defendant? That's not how it happens. When the acquittal is passed the judges are already aware that re-arrest is likely. So when it happens it has hardly any effect. But there are countless other reasons why the judges' mood and their legal acumen in the case can be altered, and efforts to obtain the second acquittal must therefore be suited to the new conditions, and generally just as vigorous as the first.” “But this second acquittal will once again not be final,” said K., shaking his head. “Of course not,” said the painter, “the second acquittal is followed by the third arrest, the third acquittal by the fourth arrest and so on. That's what is meant by the term apparent acquittal.” K. was silent. “You clearly don't think an apparent acquittal offers much advantage,” said the painter, “perhaps deferment would suit you better. Would you like me to explain what deferment is about?” K. nodded. The painter had leant back and spread himself out in his chair, his nightshirt was wide open, he had pushed his hand inside and was stroking his breast and his sides. “Deferment,” said the painter, looking vaguely in front of himself for a while as if trying to find a perfectly appropriate explanation, “deferment consists of keeping proceedings permanently in their earliest stages. To do that, the accused and those helping him need to keep in continuous personal contact with the court, especially those helping him. I repeat, this doesn't require so much effort as getting an apparent acquittal, but it probably requires a lot more attention. You must never let the trial out of your sight, you have to go and see the appropriate judge at regular intervals as well as when something in particular comes up and , whatever you do, you have to try and remain friendly with him; if you don't know the judge personally you have to influence him through the judges you do know, and you have to do it without giving up on the direct discussions. As long as you don't fail to do any of these things you can be reasonably sure the trial won't get past its first stages. The trial doesn't stop, but the defendant is almost as certain of avoiding conviction as if he'd been acquitted. Compared with an apparent acquittal, deferment has the advantage that the defendant's future is less uncertain, he's safe from the shock of being suddenly re-arrested and doesn't need to fear the exertions and stress involved in getting an apparent acquittal just when everything else in his life would make it most difficult. Deferment does have certain disadvantages of its own though, too, and they shouldn't be under-estimated. I don't mean by this that the defendant is never free, he's never free in the proper sense of the word with an apparent acquittal either. There's another disadvantage. Proceedings can't be prevented from moving forward unless there are some at least ostensible reasons given. So something needs to seem to be happening when looked at from the outside. This means that from time to time various injunctions have to be obeyed, the accused has to be questioned, investigations have to take place and so on. The trial's been artificially constrained inside a tiny circle, and it has to be continuously spun round within it. And that, of course, brings with it certain unpleasantnesses for the accused, although you shouldn't imagine they're all that bad. All of this is just for show, the interrogations, for instance, they're only very short, if you ever don't have the time or don't feel like going to them you can offer an excuse, with some judges you can even arrange the injunctions together a long time in advance, in essence all it means is that, as the accused, you have to report to the judge from time to time.” Even while the painter was speaking those last words K. had laid his coat over his arm and had stood up. Immediately, from outside the door, there was a cry of 'He's standing up now!'. “Are you leaving already?” asked the painter, who had also stood up. “It must be the air that's driving you out. I'm very sorry about that. There's still a lot I need to tell you. I had to put everything very briefly but I hope at least it was all clear.” “Oh yes,” said K., whose head was aching from the effort of listening. Despite this affirmation the painter summed it all up once more, as if he wanted to give K. something to console him on his way home. “Both have in common that they prevent the defendant being convicted,” he said. “But they also prevent his being properly acquitted,” said K. quietly, as if ashamed to acknowledge it. “You've got it, in essence,” said the painter quickly. K. placed his hand on his winter overcoat but could not bring himself to put it on. Most of all he would have liked to pack everything together and run out to the fresh air. Not even the girls could induce him to put his coat on, even though they were already loudly telling each other that he was doing so. The painter still had to interpret K.'s mood in some way, so he said, “I expect you've deliberately avoided deciding between my suggestions yet. That's good. I would even have advised against making a decision straight away. There's no more than a hair's breadth of difference between the advantages and disadvantages. Everything has to be carefully weighed up. But the most important thing is you shouldn't lose too much time.” “I'll come back here again soon,” said K., who had suddenly decided to put his frock coat on, threw his overcoat over his shoulder and hurried over to the door behind which the girls now began to scream. K. thought he could even see the screaming girls through the door. “Well, you'll have to keep your word,” said the painter, who had not followed him, “otherwise I'll to the bank to ask about it myself.” “Will you open this door for me,” said K. pulling at the handle which, as he noticed from the resistance, was being held tightly by the girls on the other side. “Do you want to be bothered by the girls?” asked the painter. “It's better if you use the other way out,” he said, pointing to the door behind the bed. K. agreed to this and jumped back to the bed. But instead of opening that door the painter crawled under the bed and from underneath it asked K., “Just a moment more, would you not like to see a picture I could sell to you?” K. did not want to be impolite, the painter really had taken his side and promised to help him more in the future, and because of K.'s forgetfulness there had been no mention of any payment for the painter's help, so K. could not turn him down now and allowed him to show him the picture, even though he was quivering with impatience to get out of the studio. From under the bed, the painter withdrew a pile of unframed paintings. They were so covered in dust that when the painter tried to blow it off the one on top the dust swirled around in front of K.'s eyes, robbing him of breath for some time. “Moorland landscape,” said the painter passing the picture to K. It showed two sickly trees, well separated from each other in dark grass. In the background there was a multi-coloured sunset. “That's nice,” said K. “I'll buy it.” K. expressed himself in this curt way without any thought, so he was glad when the painter did not take this amiss and picked up a second painting from the floor. “This is a counterpart to the first picture,” said the painter. Perhaps it had been intended as a counterpart, but there was not the slightest difference to be seen between it and the first picture, there were the trees, there the grass and there the sunset. But this was of little importance to K. “They are beautiful landscapes,” he said, “I'll buy them both and hang them in my office.” “You seem to like this subject,” said the painter, picking up a third painting, “good job I've still got another, similar picture here.” The picture though, was not similar, rather it was exactly the same moorland landscape. The painter was fully exploiting this opportunity to sell off his old pictures. “I'll take this one too,” said K. “How much do the three paintings cost?” “We can talk about that next time,” said the painter. “You're in a hurry now, and we'll still be in contact. And besides, I'm glad you like the paintings, I'll give you all the paintings I've got down here. They're all moorland landscapes, I've painted a lot of moorland landscapes. A lot of people don't like that sort of picture because they're too gloomy, but there are others, and you're one of them, who love gloomy themes.” But K. was not in the mood to hear about the professional experiences of this painter cum beggar. “Wrap them all up!” he called out, interrupting the painter as he was speaking, “my servant will come to fetch them in the morning.” “There's no need for that,” said the painter. “I expect I can find a porter for you who can go with you now.” And, at last, he leant over the bed and unlocked the door. “Just step on the bed, don't worry about that,” said the painter, “that's what everyone does who comes in here.” Even without this invitation, K. had shown no compunction in already placing his foot in the middle of the bed covers, then he looked out through the open door and drew his foot back again. “What is that?” he asked the painter. “What are you so surprised at?” he asked, surprised in his turn. “Those are court offices. Didn't you know there are court offices here? There are court offices in almost every attic, why should this building be any different? Even my studio is actually one of the court offices but the court put it at my disposal.” It was not so much finding court offices even here that shocked K., he was mainly shocked at himself, at his own na�vety in court matters. It seemed to him that one of the most basic rules governing how a defendant should behave was always to be prepared, never allow surprises, never to look, unsuspecting, to the right when the judge stood beside him to his left—and this was the very basic rule that he was continually violating. A long corridor extended in from of him, air blew in from it which, compared with the air in the studio, was refreshing. There were benches set along each side of the corridor just as in the waiting area for the office he went to himself. There seemed to be precise rules governing how offices should be equipped. There did not seem to be many people visiting the offices that day. There was a man there, half sitting, half laying, his face was buried in his arm on the bench and he seemed to be sleeping; another man was standing in the half-dark at the end of the corridor. K. now climbed over the bed, the painter followed him with the pictures. They soon came across a servant of the court—K. was now able to recognise all the servants of the court from the gold buttons they wore on their civilian clothes below the normal buttons—and the painter instructed him to go with K. carrying the pictures. K. staggered more than he walked, his handkerchief pressed over his mouth. They had nearly reached the exit when the girls stormed in on them, so K. had not been able to avoid them. They had clearly seen that the second door of the studio had been opened and had gone around to impose themselves on him from this side. “I can't come with you any further!” called out the painter with a laugh as the girls pressed in. “Goodbye, and don't hesitate too long!” K. did not even look round at him. Once on the street he took the first cab he came across. He now had to get rid of the servant, whose gold button continually caught his eye even if it caught no-one else's. As a servant, the servant of the court was going to sit on the coach-box. But K. chased him down from there. It was already well into the afternoon when K. arrived in front of the bank. He would have liked to leave the pictures in the cab but feared there might be some occasion when he would have to let the painter see he still had them. So he had the pictures taken to his office and locked them in the lowest drawer of his desk so that he could at least keep them safe from the deputy director's view for the next few days.",“It's up to you which one you choose.,1,0.029760094,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 20 The sentence is not over; or rather, she ended up raising her eyes to the ceiling — her eyes, which were her most insinuating feature — black, large, washed with a damp light, like those of dawn. As for the gesture, it was the same one she had used on the day that Simão Bacamarte asked her to marry him. Perhaps a slight smile played on his lips as he said: His eyes remained steady, calm, enduring. No wrinkle disturbed his brow, as serene as the waters of Botafogo Bay. Now she was brandishing her weapon again, this time for the apparent purpose of cutting science’s throat. But the alienist was not perturbed. ","The chronicles do not say whether D. Evarista brandished that weapon with the perverse intention of slaying science once and for all, or, at least, cutting off its hands; but the conjecture is credible. In any case, the alienist did not attribute any other intention to him. And the great man was not angered, he was not even dismayed. The metal of his eyes did not stop being the same metal, hard, smooth, eternal, not even the slightest crease broke the surface of his forehead, as quiet as the water in Botafogo. Perhaps a smile opened his lips, through which he filtered this word, soft as the oil of the Canticle:10",1,0.030214587,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 20 I’ll get her together with Mavriky, and she’ll immediately start remembering you — praising you to him, and abusing him to his face — the heart of a woman! I swear, I even feel a bit sorry for her! There you are, laughing again! However, I’ll fix things up for you in a jiffy. ‘I brought it because of the length of the trip. It’s a good thing I brought mine along. Her tender little heart is aching for Mavriky Nikolayevich right now; at least it should be aching… and you know… Here it is.’ (He pulled a revolver out of his pocket, showed it and immediately put it back again.) You said something about “your racing droshky”, but I simply scooted past him… really, what if he’d had a revolver?","In the racing droshky, you say; but I really just snicked by him... what if he does indeed have a revolver?... It's a good thing I brought mine along. Here it is"" (he took a revolver from his pocket, showed it, and immediately put it back again). ""I brought it along on account of the far distance ... Anyhow, I'll fix it up for you in a second: her little heart is precisely aching for Mavriky now ... at least it should be... and you know-by God, I'm even slightly sorry for her now! I'll put her together with Mavriky, and she'll immediately start remembering you-praising you to him and abusing him to his face-a woman's heart! Well, so you're laughing again?",1,0.030675802,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 Zhang Song looked around and saw the speaker was a man with thin delicate eyebrows crossing narrow eyes set in a pale spiritual face. He asked his name. It was Yang Xiu, son of the former Regent Marshal Yang Biao. The young man was then employed as Chief of the Secretariat of the Prime Minister. He was deeply read and had the reputation of being a clever controversialist, as Zhang Song knew. So on one side was a desire to confound and on the other overweening pride in his own ability, with contempt for other scholars. Perceiving the ridicule in Zhang Song's speech, Yang Xiu invited him to go to the library where they could talk more freely. There, after they had got settled in their respective places, Yang Xiu began to talk about the west. “Your roads are precipitous and wearisome,” said Yang Xiu. “But at our lord's command we travel, even through fire and water; we never decline,” replied Zhang Song. “What sort of a country is this Yiazhou?” “Yiazhou is a name for the group of western counties and territories known of old as the state of Shu. The roads are intersected by streams, and the land bristles with steep mountains. The circuit is over two hundred stations and marches and the area over one hundred thousand square miles. The population is dense, villages being so close that the crowings of cocks in one waken the people in the next, and the dogs barking in this excite the curs in that. The soil is rich and well cultivated, and droughts or famines are equally unknown. Prosperity is general and the music of pipes and strings can always be heard. The produce of the fields is piled mountain high. There is no place its equal.” “But what of the people?” “Our administrators are talented as Sima Xiangru; our soldiers able as Ma Yuan; our physicians are expert as Zhang Ji; our diviners are profound as Yan Zun. Our schools of philosophy and our culture stand forth as models, and we have more remarkable people than I can enumerate. How should I ever finish the tale of them?” “And how many such as you, Sir, do you think there are at the orders of your Imperial Protector?” “Our officers are all geniuses: wise, bold, loyal, righteous, and magnanimous. As for poor simpletons like me, they are counted by hundreds; there are cartloads of them, bushels of them. No one could count them.” “What office may you hold then?” Zhang Song replied, “Mine can hardly be called an office. I am a Supernumerary Charioteer. But, Sir, what state affairs may you control?” “I am the First Secretary in the Palace of the Prime Minister,” replied Yang Xiu. “They say that members of your family held office for many generations, and I do not understand why you are not in court service actually assisting the Emperor, instead of filling the post of a mere clerk in the private palace of the Prime Minister.” Yang Xiu's face suffused with shame at this rebuke, but he mastered himself and replied, “Though I am among the minor officials, yet my duties are of great importance, and I am gaining experience under the Prime Minister's guidance. I hold the office for the sake of the training.” Zhang Song smiled, saying, “If what I have heard is true, Cao Cao's learning throws no gleaming light on the way of Confucius or Mencius, nor does his military skill illumine the art of Sun Zi or Wu Qi. He seems to understand the doctrine of brute force and holding on to what advantages he can seize, but I see not how he can give you any valuable training or enlighten your understanding.” “Ah, Sir; that comes of dwelling in out-of-the-way parts. How could you know of the magnificent talents of the great Prime Minister? But I will show you something.” Yang Xiu called up an attendant and bade him bring a book from a certain case. He showed this to his guest, who read the title “The New Book of Cao Cao”. Then Zhang Song opened it and read it through from the beginning, the whole thirteen chapters. They all dealt with the art of war. “What do you take this to be?” asked Zhang Song, when he had finished. “This is the great Prime Minister's discussion of the art of ancient and modern war composed on the model of Sun Zi's Treatise on the Art of War. You may be disdainful of the Prime Minister's talents, but will this not go down to posterity?” “This book! Every child in Yiazhou knows this by heart. What do you mean by calling it a new book? It was written by some obscure person of the time of the Warring States, and Cao Cao has plagiarized it. But he has deceived no one but you, Sir.” “But what is the use of your sarcastic insult in saying that your school children know the book by rote? The book in the secret collection of the prime minister, although it has been completed, has not been passed on to the world. “Do you disbelieve me? Why, I know it and could repeat it.” Then Zhang Song repeated the whole book, word for word, from beginning to end. Yang Xiu said, “You remember it like this after only one reading! Really you are marvelous.” He boasted not a handsome face,","It has never been given to the world, although copies have been made. It belongs to his private library.”",1,0.030908957,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 ""Yes,"" said Robinson, ""no one could have foreseen that."" And before he continued, he said: “Your health, dear Rossmann” and took a long drag from the perfume bottle Days didn't get any, Delamarche by the way didn't want any work, he would have gotten it already, he just kept sending me out looking and I'm not lucky. He was just hanging around, but it was almost evening when he only had one Brought a lady's purse, it was very nice, made of pearls, now he gave it to Brunelda, but there was almost nothing in it. Then he said we should go begging in the apartments, of course you can find a lot of useful things on this occasion , we are so I went begging and I sang in front of the apartment doors to make it look better. And as Delamarche is always lucky, we only stood in front of the second apartment, a very rich apartment on the ground floor, and we sang at the Singing something to the cook and the servant at the door, Brunelda, the lady who owns this apartment, is coming up the stairs. Maybe she was laced too tight and couldn't even get up the few steps. But how beautiful she looked, Rossmann! She had a white dress and a red parasol. I could have gobbled her up. I could have licked her all over. Oh god, oh god she was beautiful. Such a woman! No just tell me how can there be such a woman? Of course, the girl and the servant immediately ran to meet her and almost carried her upstairs. We stood to the right and left of the door and saluted, that's how they do it here. She stopped for a bit because she still didn't have enough breath and now I don't know how that actually happened, I wasn't quite sane because of the hunger and she was even more beautiful and beautiful nearby enormously wide and because of a special bodice , I can then show it to you in the box, so tight all over – in short , I touched her a little from behind, but you know, very lightly, just touched. Of course one cannot tolerate a beggar touching a rich lady. It wasn't almost a touch, but it was a touch after all. Who knows how bad it would have been if Delamarche hadn't slapped me straight away, and a slap so hard that I immediately needed both my hands to cup my cheek.""",She had an all white dress and a red parasol. She was lickable. She was to be drunk.,1,0.03138043,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 Far from trying to excuse the trifling faults he committed, he was more intent than his worst enemy on magnifying them, and was keener than an envious rival to cast doubt on his own virtues by subjecting them to a rigorous analysis of the motives which might have unwittingly prompted them. Moreover, at this time, we are perforce revealed as either caring or unforgiving and, all things considered, it is better to stand accused of human frailty than to be suspected of indifference. You no longer have the same reasons for withholding your grief as you then had for concealing your felicity. No one will seek to put upon your tears the same interpretation which might have been put on your happiness. Everything is forgiven those who grieve. The earth which is still fresh at this moment will settle over the ashes of the man you loved so tenderly, but your heart will keep his memory alive. Let us submit to the universal law of things when we lose a friend, as we in turn shall submit when it is pleased to deal with us. Let us accept, unsorrowing, the sentence which fate pronounces on them, as we shall accept unresistingly the decree which it will issue against us. The duties of friends do not cease with the rites of burial. I would rather your sorrow were freely expressed, for then it would be less anguished. I would have it extreme, for then it would have a shorter term. Remember, and with increase, what he was: the acuteness with which he plumbed the deepest questions, the subtlety he brought to the discussion of the most delicate issues, his solid sense of the true priorities which ensured he kept his mind fixed firmly on the most important problems, the generous light he threw on the most arid subjects, the supreme art he deployed as the champion of those who stood accused: his humanity gave him quicker wits than self-interest or egoism ever gave the guilty, and he was hard only on himself. Set no limit on your grief other than that which healing time alone prescribes.","You do not have the same reasons for concealing your sorrow as you had for concealing your happiness; no one will think of drawing from your tears the consequences that would have been drawn from your joy. We forgive misfortune. And then it is necessary in this moment to be sensitive or ungrateful, and all things considered, it is better to detect a weakness than to be suspected of a vice. I want your complaint to be free to be less painful, I want it violent to be less long. Remember, even exaggerate what he was; his penetration to probe the deepest matters; his subtlety in discussing the most delicate; his solid taste which attached him to the most important; the fecundity he threw into the most sterile; with what art he defended the accused: his indulgence gave him a thousand times more wit than self-interest or self-love gave to the culprit; he was severe only for himself. Far from seeking excuses for the slight faults which escaped him, he busied himself with all the wickedness of an enemy in exaggerating them and with all the spirit of a jealous person in lowering the price of his virtues by a rigorous examination of the motives which had perhaps determined him without his knowledge. Do not prescribe for your regrets any term other than that which time will give. Let us submit to the universal order when we lose our friends, as we will submit to it when it pleases to dispose of us; let us accept the decree of fate which condemns them, without despair, as we will accept it without resistance when it decides against us. Burial duties are not the last duties of friends. The earth which is stirring at this moment will firm up on the tomb of your lover; but your soul will retain all its sensitivity. »",1,0.03138043,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 - AND! Zakhar croaked significantly, closing his eyes. - So unpleasing, what a disaster! And it’s not like that, and it’s not like that, and you don’t know how to walk, and you don’t understand how to give, and you break everything, and you don’t clean, and you steal, and you eat ... Ugh, damn you! ! For what? There was still a piece of cheese left from that week - the dog is ashamed to leave it - no, man, don’t even think about eating it! “You ought to be hanged,” he says, “you ought to be boiled in pitch,” he says, “and torn limb from limb with red-hot pincers! You ought to have an ashen stake driven through you,” he says. And he climbs and climbs like that ... What do you think, brothers? The other day I scalded him - who knows how - with boiling water on his leg, because I yelled like that! If I hadn't jumped back, he would have pushed me in the chest with his fist ... and he strives! I would really push...","He asked - ""no, they say,"" and went: ""You, he says, should be hanged, you, he says, should be boiled in hot resin and torn with red-hot tongs; an aspen stake, he says, it is necessary to drive into you!",1,0.03138043,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 By the way, I have to apologize to you for constantly changing the subject of conversation. These many and sudden leaps in my thinking are supposed to come partly because I am now so sadly drunk, but partly because I am also at all wrong. The thing is: I'm just a simple agronomist, a student from a couscous academy, I'm a thinker who has not learned to think. Now, let's not get into such special things, they do not interest you, and to me who know my relationships before, they are downright disgusting. You know what, it often goes so far when I sit here alone and think of many things and I then feel myself in the seams, then it often happens that I call myself Rochefort with a loud voice and that I hit the button and call meg Rochefort. What will you say when I tell you that I once ordered a sign with a hedgehog in it? …. This brings me to remember a man whom I once knew as a proper and quite ordinary and respectable philological student at a German university. The man degenerated, in the course of two years he became both a drunkard and a novelist. If he met strangers and they asked him who he was, he finally answered only that he was a fact. I'm a fact! he said, clenching his mouth in pride. Well, this does not interest you…. They were talking about a man, a thinker who had not learned to think. Or was it myself who talked about it? About forgiveness, now I am dead drunk; but it does not matter, just do not let it affect you. By the way, I would like to be allowed to explain this to you with the thinker who could not think. As far as I understood your statement, you would attack the man. Yes, I really got the definite impression, You spoke in a scornful tone; but the man you mentioned deserves to be seen somewhat in its context. First, he was a big fool. Jojo, I do not want to deprive him, he was a fool. He always wore a long red tie and smiled with mere foolishness. Yes, he was so stupid that he looked and often sat immersed in a book when someone came to him, although he never read. He also went without socks in his shoes just to afford a rose in the buttonhole. That's how he was. But the best of all was that he had a number of portraits, portraits of some tacky, neat artisan daughters, and these portraits he wrote some loud and sonorous names on, just to give the impression that he had so and so distinguished acquaintances. In one of the pictures he had written in clear letters ""Miss Stang"" to make one think she was related to the Prime Minister, although the man could at most be called Lie or Haug. Hehehe, what to say to such blistering? He imagined that people were talking about him behind his back—maligning him, he said. Hehehe, do you really think anyone bothered to slander him? So one day he came into a jewelry store, he went and smoked two cigars. On two cigars! He carried one in his hand and the other in his mouth, but there was fire in them both. He may not have known that he had two cigars in use at once, and as a thinker who had not learned to think, he did not ask either.","He imagined that people went and dealt with him, slandered him. People slander me! he said.",1,0.031618766,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 At noon I was walking along the river. I didn’t feel like eating. It was a dreary day. A raw wind was blowing down from the mountains and gray rain clouds were rolling into the valley. Ahead of me, I could see a man in a shabby green coat, scrambling about among the rocks. I thought he was gathering herbs. As I drew nearer, and he, hearing me, turned around, I found myself looking into a most interesting face. Its main expression was a quiet sadness; otherwise it betrayed nothing but candor and honesty. His black hair was pinned up in two rolls; the rest hung in one thick braid down his back. Since, judging by his dress, he seemed to be a man of humble origin, I decided that he would not take offense if I chose to comment on what he was doing, so I asked him what he was looking for. With a deep sigh, he replied, “I am looking for flowers, but can find none.” “This is not the season for them,” I said, smiling. “But there are so many flowers,” he replied, moving down to my level. “I have roses in my garden, and honeysuckle, two kinds. My father gave me one. They grow like weeds. I have been looking for them for two days and cannot find them. And outside there are always flowers, yellow ones, blue and red ones—and centaury has such a pretty blossom. I can’t find any of them.” I could sense something mysterious, so I asked in a roundabout way, “ And what does he want to do with the flowers?” A bright, tremulous smile crossed his face. “If the gentleman won’t give me away,” he said, putting a finger to his lips, “I promised my sweetheart a bouquet.” “Now there’s a good man!” I said. “Oh, she has many other things,” he replied. “She is rich.” “And yet she likes his nosegay,” I said. “Oh,” he countered, “she has jewels and a crown.” “What is her name?” “If the Netherlands would only pay me,” he said, “it would make a changed man of me. Yes, yes, there was a time when I was very well off. Now that’s all over and done with. Now I am…” He turned his moist eyes skyward to express the rest. “So he was once a happy man?” I asked. “Ah, if only I could be like that again,” he replied. “How happy I used to feel in those days— so merry, like a fish in water.” “Henry!” cried an old woman who now came up the path. “Henry, where are you? We’ve been looking for you everywhere. Come and eat.” “Is that your son?” I asked, stepping forward. “Indeed he is my poor son,” she said. “God has given me a heavy cross to bear.” “How long has he been that way?” I asked. “Quiet like that,” she said, “he has been only for the past six months. God be thanked that he is as he is now. The year before, he was a raving maniac and they had to keep him chained in the madhouse. Now he does no harm, but he is always troubled, his kings and emperors on his mind. He was such a good, quiet lad who helped toward my support and could write a pretty hand, but suddenly he became despondent and fell into a violent fever, and from that into raving madness, and now he is as you see him. If I were only to tell you, sir-- "" I interrupted her by asking what period it was in which he boasted of having been so happy. “The fool,” she cried, with a pitying smile. “He means the time he was deranged, the time he spent in the madhouse, when he didn’t know what was going on around him—that’s the time he is forever praising so highly.” It struck me like a thunderbolt. I pressed a coin into her hand and hurried away.","If I were to tell you, sir—” I interrupted her flood of words with the question, “What sort of time was it that he praises so highly, when he was so happy, so content?”",1,0.031858858,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 60 ‘Indeed, you are probably right,’ says Kong Ming and then to celebrate this understanding he orders a banquet to be prepared. When later that night Lu Su reports back to Zhou Yu, his master is far from impressed. ‘But surely,’ says Zhou Yu, ‘Liu Qi is but a youth with many, many years to live?’ ‘Believe me,’ says Lu Su, ‘if you’d met him you’d have seen how his dissolute lifestyle, women and drink, has sapped his qi. “Liu Qi has indulged too freely in wine and women; he is a wreck and rotten to the core, miserably emaciated and panting for breath. I give him six months at the most. Once he is dead, I’ll go and claim Jingzhou by rights, for Xuande will have no excuses left!’ Zhou Yu is still troubled, but this is soon put into context, for a messenger comes announcing that Sun Quan is besieging Hefei and requests more troops. After his collapse Zhou Yu needs to rest and recover in Chaisang, so he sends Cheng Pu to the aid of Sun Quan at Hefei.",He looks weak and wasted. His breathing is laboured.,1,0.032100707,0
+"lexical = 100, order = 40 “Now, do be reasonable,” said K., “if I had wanted to get these two punished I would not now be trying to buy their freedom, would I. I could simply close the door here behind me, go home and see or hear nothing more of it. “I would make it well worth your while if you would let them go,” said K., and without looking at the whip-man again—as such matters are best carried on with both pairs of eyes turned down—he pulled out his wallet. “And then you'd try and put in a complaint against me, too,” said the whip-man, “and get me flogged. But that's not what I'm doing, it really is of much more importance to me to let them go free; if I had realised they would be punished, or even that they might be punished, I would never have named them in the first place as they are not the ones I hold responsible. No, no!” Yeah, I thought as much. “No,” said the whip-man, striking him such a blow with the cane on his neck that it made him wince, “you shouldn't be listening to this, just get undressed.” But a man with a belly like that can't be made into a whip-man and never will be, that is quite out of the question.” “There are whip-men like that,” Willem insisted, who had just released the belt of this trousers.","Yeah, I thought as much. But a man with a belly like that can't be made into a whip-man and never will be, that is quite out of the question."" ""There are whip-men like that,"" Willem insisted, who had just released the belt of this trousers. "" No,"" said the whip-man, striking him such a blow with the cane on his neck that it made him wince, ""you shouldn't be listening to this, just get undressed."" ""I would make it well worth your while if you would let them go,"" said K., and without looking at the whip-man again - as such matters are best carried on with both pairs of eyes turned down - he pulled out his wallet. "" And then you'd try and put in a complaint against me, too,"" said the whip-man, ""and get me flogged. No, no!"" ""Now, do be reasonable,"" said K., ""if I had wanted to get these two punished I would not now be trying to buy their freedom, would I. I could simply close the door here behind me, go home and see or hear nothing more of it. But that's not what I'm doing, it really is of much more importance to me to let them go free; if I had realised they would be punished, or even that they might be punished, I would never have named them in the first place as they are not the ones I hold responsible.",1,0.032344334,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 Indeed such was the interest taken by certain citizens in the matter that they advised the purchaser to provide himself and his convoy with an escort, in order to ensure their safe arrival at the appointed destination; but though Chichikov thanked the donors of this advice for the same, and declared that he should be very glad, in case of need, to avail himself of it, he declared also that there was no real need for an escort, seeing that the peasants whom he had purchased were exceptionally peace-loving folk, and that, being themselves consenting parties to the transferment, they would undoubtedly prove in every way tractable. One particularly good result of this advertisement of his scheme was that he came to rank as neither more nor less than a millionaire. Consequently, much as the inhabitants had liked our hero in the first instance (as seen in Chapter I.), they now liked him more than ever. As a matter of fact, they were citizens of an exceptionally quiet, good-natured, easy-going disposition; and some of them were even well-educated. For instance, the President of the Local Council could recite the whole of Zhukovski’s LUDMILLA by heart, and give such an impressive rendering of the passage “The pine forest was asleep and the valley at rest” (as well as of the exclamation “Phew!”) that one felt, as he did so, that the pine forest and the valley really WERE as he described them. The effect was also further heightened by the manner in which, at such moments, he assumed the most portentous frown. For his part, the Postmaster went in more for philosophy, and diligently perused such works as Young’s Night Thoughts, and Eckharthausen’s A Key to the Mysteries of Nature; of which latter work he would make copious extracts, though no one had the slightest notion what they referred to. For the rest, he was a witty, florid little individual, and much addicted to a practice of what he called “embellishing” whatsoever he had to say—a feat which he performed with the aid of such by-the-way phrases as “my dear sir,” “ my good So-and-So ,” “you know,” “you understand,” “you may imagine,” “relatively speaking,” “for instance,” and “et cetera”; of which phrases he would add sackfuls to his speech. He could also “embellish” his words by the simple expedient of half-closing, half-winking one eye; which trick communicated to some of his satirical utterances quite a mordant effect. Nor were his colleagues a wit inferior to him in enlightenment. For instance, one of them made a regular practice of reading Karamzin, another of conning the Moscow Gazette, and a third of never looking at a book at all. Likewise, although they were the sort of men to whom, in their more intimate movements, their wives would very naturally address such nicknames as “Toby Jug,” “Marmot,” “Fatty,” “Pot Belly,” “Smutty,” “Kiki,” and “Buzz-Buzz,” they were men also of good heart, and very ready to extend their hospitality and their friendship when once a guest had eaten of their bread and salt, or spent an evening in their company. Particularly, therefore, did Chichikov earn these good folk’s approval with his taking methods and qualities—so much so that the expression of that approval bid fair to make it difficult for him to quit the town, seeing that, wherever he went, the one phrase dinned into his ears was “Stay another week with us, Paul Ivanovitch.” In short, he ceased to be a free agent. But incomparably more striking was the impression (a matter for unbounded surprise!) which he produced upon the ladies. Properly to explain this phenomenon I should need to say a great deal about the ladies themselves, and to describe in the most vivid of colours their social intercourse and spiritual qualities. Yet this would be a difficult thing for me to do, since, on the one hand, I should be hampered by my boundless respect for the womenfolk of all Civil Service officials, and, on the other hand—well, simply by the innate arduousness of the task. The ladies of N. were— But no, I cannot do it; my heart has already failed me. Come, come! The ladies of N. were distinguished for— But it is of no use; somehow my pen seems to refuse to move over the paper—it seems to be weighted as with a plummet of lead. Very well. That being so, I will merely say a word or two concerning the most prominent tints on the feminine palette of N.—merely a word or two concerning the outward appearance of its ladies, and a word or two concerning their more superficial characteristics. The ladies of N. were pre-eminently what is known as “presentable.” Indeed, in that respect they might have served as a model to the ladies of many another town. That is to say, in whatever pertained to “tone,” etiquette, the intricacies of decorum, and strict observance of the prevailing mode, they surpassed even the ladies of Moscow and St. Petersburg, seeing that they dressed with taste, drove about in carriages in the latest fashions, and never went out without the escort of a footman in gold-laced livery. Again, they looked upon a visiting card—even upon a make-shift affair consisting of an ace of diamonds or a two of clubs—as a sacred thing; so sacred that on one occasion two closely related ladies who had also been closely attached friends were known to fall out with one another over the mere fact of an omission to return a social call! Yes, in spite of the best efforts of husbands and kinsfolk to reconcile the antagonists, it became clear that, though all else in the world might conceivably be possible, never could the hatchet be buried between ladies who had quarrelled over a neglected visit. Likewise strenuous scenes used to take place over questions of precedence—scenes of a kind which had the effect of inspiring husbands to great and knightly ideas on the subject of protecting the fair. True, never did a duel actually take place, since all the husbands were officials belonging to the Civil Service; but at least a given combatant would strive to heap contumely upon his rival, and, as we all know, that is a resource which may prove even more effectual than a duel. As regards morality, the ladies of N. were nothing if not censorious, and would at once be fired with virtuous indignation when they heard of a case of vice or seduction. Nay, even to mere frailty they would award the lash without mercy. On the other hand, should any instance of what they called “third personism” occur among THEIR OWN circle, it was always kept dark—not a hint of what was going on being allowed to transpire, and even the wronged husband holding himself ready, should he meet with, or hear of, the “third person,” to quote, in a mild and rational manner, the proverb, “Whom concerns it that a friend should consort with friend?” In addition, I may say that, like most of the female world of St. Petersburg, the ladies of N. were pre-eminently careful and refined in their choice of words and phrases. Never did a lady say, “I blew my nose,” or “I perspired,” or “I spat.” No, it had to be, “I relieved my nose through the expedient of wiping it with my handkerchief,” and so forth. Again, to say, “This glass, or this plate, smells badly,” was forbidden. No, not even a hint to such an effect was to be dropped. Rather, the proper phrase, in such a case, was “This glass, or this plate, is not behaving very well,”—or some such formula. In fact, to refine the Russian tongue the more thoroughly, something like half the words in it were cut out: which circumstance necessitated very frequent recourse to the tongue of France, since the same words, if spoken in French, were another matter altogether, and one could use even blunter ones than the ones originally objected to. So much for the ladies of N., provided that one confines one’s observations to the surface; yet hardly need it be said that, should one penetrate deeper than that, a great deal more would come to light. At the same time, it is never a very safe proceeding to peer deeply into the hearts of ladies; wherefore, restricting ourselves to the foregoing superficialities, let us proceed further on our way. Hitherto the ladies had paid Chichikov no particular attention, though giving him full credit for his gentlemanly and urbane demeanour; but from the moment that there arose rumours of his being a millionaire other qualities of his began to be canvassed. Nevertheless, not ALL the ladies were governed by interested motives, since it is due to the term “millionaire” rather than to the character of the person who bears it, that the mere sound of the word exercises upon rascals, upon decent folk, and upon folk who are neither the one nor the other, an undeniable influence. A millionaire suffers from the disadvantage of everywhere having to behold meanness, including the sort of meanness which, though not actually based upon calculations of self-interest, yet runs after the wealthy man with smiles, and doffs his hat, and begs for invitations to houses where the millionaire is known to be going to dine. That a similar inclination to meanness seized upon the ladies of N. goes without saying; with the result that many a drawing-room heard it whispered that, if Chichikov was not exactly a beauty, at least he was sufficiently good-looking to serve for a husband, though he could have borne to have been a little more rotund and stout. To that there would be added scornful references to lean husbands, and hints that they resembled tooth-brushes rather than men—with many other feminine additions. Also, such crowds of feminine shoppers began to repair to the Bazaar as almost to constitute a crush, and something like a procession of carriages ensued, so long grew the rank of vehicles. For their part, the tradesmen had the joy of seeing highly priced dress materials which they had bought at fairs, and then been unable to dispose of, now suddenly become tradeable, and go off with a rush. For instance, on one occasion a lady appeared at Mass in a bustle which filled the church to an extent which led the verger on duty to bid the commoner folk withdraw to the porch, lest the lady’s toilet should be soiled in the crush. Even Chichikov could not help privately remarking the attention which he aroused. On one occasion, when he returned to the inn, he found on his table a note addressed to himself. Whence it had come, and who had delivered it, he failed to discover, for the waiter declared that the person who had brought it had omitted to leave the name of the writer. Beginning abruptly with the words “I MUST write to you,” the letter went on to say that between a certain pair of souls there existed a bond of sympathy; and this verity the epistle further confirmed with rows of full stops to the extent of nearly half a page. Next there followed a few reflections of a correctitude so remarkable that I have no choice but to quote them. “What, I would ask, is this life of ours?” What is the world? A vale of sorrows. ‘ Tis nought but a mob of unthinking humanity.” Thereafter, incidentally remarking that she had just dropped a tear to the memory of her dear mother, who had departed this life twenty-five years ago, the (presumably) lady writer invited Chichikov to come forth into the wilds, and to leave for ever the city where, penned in noisome haunts, folk could not even draw their breath. In conclusion, the writer gave way to unconcealed despair, and wound up with the following verses:","inquired the writer. “‘Tis nought but a vale of woe. And what, I would ask, is the world?",1,0.032589745,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 “There’s been a change of management around here. As they approached the orchard gate, they spotted the local spirit, his gardeners, and Monkey’s aides standing outside and explained the purpose of their visit. “Hold on,” the spirit replied. Time passed in this delicious way until one morning the Queen Mother decided to host a Great Grand Festival of Immortal Peaches in her Palace of the Jade Pool and ordered her immortal ladies-in-waiting—Red Gown, Blue Gown, White Gown, Black Gown, Purple Gown, Yellow Gown, and Green Gown—to pick peaches for the event. The Jade Emperor has put the Great Sage Equal to Heaven in charge and we have to report to him before opening the gate.” “Where is the Great Sage?” asked the maidens. “He is in the garden,” said the local spirit. “Because he is tired, he is sleeping alone in the arbor.” “If that’s the case,” said the maidens, “let us go and find him, for we cannot be late.” The local spirit went into the garden with them; they found their way to the arbor but saw no one. Only the cap and the robe were left in the arbor, but there was no person to be seen. The Great Sage, you see, had played for a while and eaten a number of peaches. He had then changed himself into a figure only two inches high and, perching on the branch of a large tree, had fallen asleep under the cover of thick leaves. “Since we came by imperial decree,” said the Seven-Gown Immortal Maidens, “how can we return empty-handed, even though we cannot locate the Great Sage?” One of the divine officials said from the side, “Since the divine maidens have come by decree, they should wait no longer. Our Great Sage has a habit of wandering off somewhere, and he must have left the garden to meet his friends. Go and pick your peaches now, and we shall report the matter for you.” The Immortal Maidens followed his suggestion and went into the grove to pick their peaches. They gathered two basketfuls from the trees in front and filled three more baskets from the trees in the middle. When they went to the trees at the back of the grove, they found that the flowers were sparse and the fruits scanty. Only a few peaches with hairy stems and green skins were left, for the fact is that the Monkey King had eaten all the ripe ones. Looking this way and that, the Seven Immortal Maidens found on a branch pointing southward one single peach that was half white and half red. The Blue Gown Maiden pulled the branch down with her hand, and the Red Gown Maiden, after plucking the fruit, let the branch snap back up into its position. This was the very branch on which the transformed Great Sage was sleeping. Startled by her, the Great Sage revealed his true form and whipped out from his ear the golden-hooped rod. One wave and it had the thickness of a rice bowl. “From what region have you come, monsters,” he cried, “that you have the gall to steal my peaches?” Terrified, the Seven Immortal Maidens knelt down together and pleaded, “Let the Great Sage calm himself! We are not monsters, but the Seven-Gown Immortal Maidens sent by the Lady Queen Mother to pluck the fruits needed for the Grand Festival of Immortal Peaches, when the treasure chamber is opened wide. We just came here and first saw the local spirit of the garden, who could not find the Great Sage. Fearing that we might be delayed in fulfilling the command of the Queen Mother, we did not wait for the Great Sage but proceeded to pluck the peaches. We beg you to forgive us.” When the Great Sage heard these words, his anger changed to delight. “Please arise, divine maidens,” he said. “Who is invited to the banquet when the Queen Mother opens wide her treasure chamber?” “The last festival had its own set of rules,” said the Immortal Maidens, “and those invited were: the Buddha, the Bodhisattvas, the holy monks, and the arhats of the Western Heaven; Kuan-yin from the South Pole; the Holy Emperor of Great Mercy of the East; the Immortals of Ten Continents and Three Islands; the Dark Spirit of the North Pole; the Great Immortal of the Yellow Horn from the Imperial Center. These were the Elders from the Five Quarters. In addition, there were the Star Spirits of the Five Poles, the Three Pure Ones, the Four Deva Kings, the Heavenly Deva of the Great Monad, and the rest from the Upper Eight Caves. From the Middle Eight Caves there were the Jade Emperor, the Nine Heroes, the Immortals of the Seas and Mountains; and from the Lower Eight Caves, there were the Pope of Darkness and the Terrestrial Immortals. The gods and devas, both great and small, of every palace and mansion, will be attending this happy Festival of the Immortal Peaches.” “Am I invited?” asked the Great Sage, laughing. “We haven’t heard your name mentioned,” said the Immortal Maidens. “I am the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven,” said the Great Sage. “Why shouldn’t I, old Monkey, be made an honored guest at the party?” “Well, we told you the rule for the last festival,” said the Immortal Maidens, “but we do not know what will happen this time.” “You are right,” said the Great Sage, “and I don’t blame you. You all just stand here and let old Monkey go and do a little detection to find out whether he’s invited or not.”","One day the Lady Queen Mother decided to open wide her treasure chamber and to give a banquet for the Grand Festival of Immortal Peaches, which was to be held in the Palace of the Jasper Pool. She ordered the various Immortal Maidens—Red Gown, Blue Gown, White Gown, Black Gown, Purple Gown, Yellow Gown, and Green Gown—to go with their flower baskets to the Garden of Immortal Peaches and pick the fruits for the festival. The seven maidens went to the gate of the garden and found it guarded by the local spirit, the stewards, and the ministers from the two departments of the Equal to Heaven Residence. The girls approached them, saying, “We have been ordered by the Queen Mother to pick some peaches for our banquet.” “Divine maidens,” said the local spirit, “please wait a moment. This year is not quite the same as last year. The Jade Emperor has put in charge here the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, and we must report to him before we are allowed to open the gate.”",1,0.032589745,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 [Topics is the title of a much-studied work by Aristotle, a compendium of which was given by Cicero. It formed a basis of education in an age which appreciated eloquence and skilled argument. But rhetoric and dialectic do not themselves lead to the truth. To overthrow the perverse fluent ingenuity of Panurge one verse of Saint Paul suffices: ‘Owe no man any thing, but to love one another’ (Romans 13:8). The words ‘mutual love-and-affection’ render that love which is agape (so different from Panurge’s self-love, philautia). Saint Paul is supported by Plato (Laws, 98) as cited by Plutarch in his treatise On Avoiding Usury. Rabelais’ big guns are out! Apollonius of Tyana claimec to have encountered the Plague personified: he found her horrifying.] ‘I understand you,’ answered Pantagruel; ‘you seem to me to be good at your Topics and zealous for your cause; but preach and patrocinate from now to Whitsuntide and you’ll be amazed to learn that you have failed in the end to persuade me. “Owe no man anything,” said the holy Apostle, “save mutual love-and-affection.” You are employing fine graphic terms and vivid descriptions. You serve me here, I confess, with fine Graphides and Diatyposes, Descriptions and Figures, which truly please me very well: But let me tell you, if you will represent unto your Fancy an impudent blustering Bully and an importunate Borrower, entring afresh and newly into a Town already advertised of his Manners, you shall find that at his Ingress the Citizens will be more hideously affrighted and amazed, and in a greater terror and fear, dread and trembling, than if the Pest it self should step into it in the very same Garb and Accoutrement wherein the Tyanœan Philosopher found it within the City of Ephesus. And I am of the opinion that the Persians were not in error when they judged lying to be the second vice, the first being to run up debts, for debts and lies normally go together.","I find them most enjoyable, but I can tell you this: that if you picture for yourself a flagrant fraudster, a relentless loan-taker, newly arriving in a town already warned of his way of life, you will find that the townsfolk will be more agitated and terrified by his arrival titan if the Plague had arrived in person, dressed as she was when the Philosopher of Tyana came across her in Ephesus.",1,0.03308598,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 Nothing I can do could ever repay you. But I’ve noticed recently that you seem unhappy – I can see it in your face. ‘You’ve looked after me and had me tutored in the arts of music and dancing and have always been generous to me. If there is anything I can do to help, I would be prepared to embrace death itself over and over again.’ Wang Yun asks. Yet who am I to ask you what’s troubling you? Then tonight I saw you in the garden and this made me sigh … never for a moment thinking you’d hear me. So why are you so distressed?’ he asks. ‘I would never do anything wrong,’ Diao Chan replies, startled to see him. ‘ ‘What have you done wrong, young lady?’ ‘Let me tell you the truth from the very bottom of my heart,’ she replies.","Ye Yun listened to it for a long time, and shouted, ""A slut will have an affair?"" Diao Chan knelt down in shock and replied, ""An unscrupulous concubine dares to have an affair!"" Yun said, ""You have no selfishness, why did you sigh in the depths of the night? "" Chan said: ""Rong concubine to express the words of the heart."" Yun said: ""You don't hide, tell me the truth."" Chan said: ""The concubine is favored by the adults, trained in singing and dancing, and treats each other with courtesy. In case. I saw the frowning frowns of the adults recently, there must be a national event, but I dare not ask. Tonight, I see Xing Si uneasy again, so I sigh deeply. I don’t want to see for the adults.",1,0.033336822,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 But Clerice! can mean both ‘O male clerk!’ and ‘O female clerks!’ The ambiguity may be at least once intentional but is not reproduced here. There is again a deliberate ambiguity over ‘farce’, both a comic play and force-meat stuffing.] Take note of this, you Drinkers: during Homenaz’s dry Mass, three churchwardens went round the congregation each holding a large bason in his hand and crying aloud: ‘Forget not the blessèd folk who have seen His face.’ When they left the chapel they brought Homenaz their basons, each full of papimaniacal coins. Homenaz informed us that it was to provide good cheer, and that one slice of this free-will offertory would be devoted to good drinking and the others to good eating, in accordance with a miracle-working gloss hidden away in a nook of their holy Decretals. That took place in a delightful inn somewhat resembling Guillot’s place in Amiens. The fodder, believe me, was ample and the rounds of drinks copious. I observed two memorable features during that dinner: one was that no viands were served – capons, kids or indeed porkers (of which there are plenty in Papimania) or pigeons, rabbits, hares, turkeys or other flesh – in which there was not an abundance of magisterial farce. The other, that all the dinner and the dessert was served by the local marriageable maidens, beautiful little things (I assure you), buxom little things, blonde little things, sweet little things, all very graceful. They were clad in long, loose, snowy albs and were girdled twice about their middles; their heads were uncovered; their hair crowned with little headbands and ribbons of violet silk strewn with roses, carnations, marjoram, dill-flowers, lemon-balm and other scented blooms; every so often they proffered us wine to drink with studied, engaging curtsies. At every Cadence, they invited us to drink and bang it about, dropping us neat and gentile Court’sies: Nor was the sight of them unwelcome to all the Company; and as for Fryar Jhon, he leer’d on them sideways, like a Cur that steals a Capon. When the first course was taken off, the Females melodiously sung us an Epode in Praise of the Sacrosanct Decretals; and then the second Course being serv’d up Homenas joyful and cheery, said to one of the she Buttlers, Light here, Claricia. ",Everyone there found them delightful to look at: Frère Jean watched them out of the corner of his eye like a dog making off with a morsel of goose-wing. As dinner was being cleared away there was melodiously chanted by them an epode in praise of the most-holy Decretals.,1,0.03461884,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 “Joking! That’s what they said to me at the elder’s yesterday—‘You’re joking,’ they said. You know that old sinner of the eighteenth century who said that if God didn’t exist He would have to be invented—s’il n’existait pas Dieu il faudrait l’inventer. And true enough, man has invented God. What is so strange and extraordinary is not that God really exists but that such a thought—the very idea of the necessity of God—should have occurred to a vicious wild animal like man, for that concept is so holy, so touching, and so wise that it does man too much honor. For my part, I’ve long since stopped worrying about who invented whom—God man or man God. I won’t, of course, bother to repeat to you all the fashionable axioms accepted by our Russian boys—all of them derived from hypotheses formulated by Europeans—because what to a European is a mere hypothesis is at once accepted as an axiom by a Russian boy; and, alas, not only by the boy, but also often by his professor, because a Russian professor nowadays is very often just another Russian boy. And so, I’ll ignore all those hypotheses for the time being. For what is the purpose of this conversation between us? Its purpose, as I understand it, is for me to explain to you, as briefly as possible, what I am— that is, what sort of a man I am, what I believe in, and what I hope for. And so I will just state here plainly and briefly that I accept God. But I must point out one thing: if God does exist and if He really created the world, then, as we well know. He created it according to the principles of Euclidean geometry and made the human brain capable of grasping only three dimensions of space. Yet there have been and still are mathematicians and philosophers—among them some of the most outstanding—who doubt that the whole universe or, to put it more generally, all existence was created to fit Euclidean geometry; they even dare to conceive that two parallel lines that, according to Euclid, never meet on earth do, in fact, meet somewhere in infinity. And so, my dear boy, I’ve decided that since I’m incapable of understanding even that much, I cannot possibly understand about God. I humbly admit that I have no special talent for coping with such problems, that my brain is an earthly, Euclidean brain, and that therefore I’m not properly equipped to deal with matters that are not of this world. And I would advise you too, Alyosha, never to worry about these matters, least of all about God—whether He exists or not. All such problems are quite unsuitable for a mind created to conceive only three dimensions. And so not only do I readily accept God, but I also accept His wisdom and His purpose, of which we really know absolutely nothing, the divine order of things, the meaning of life, and the eternal harmony into which we are all to be fused. I believe in His Word, toward which the universe is striving, the Word that itself was ‘with God’ and that, indeed, is God—well, and so on and so on and on, to eternity; so much has been said on that subject. Well then, it looks as if I were on the right path, doesn’t it? Well, let me tell you this: in the final analysis, I do not accept this God-made world and, although I know it exists, I absolutely refuse to admit its existence. I want you to understand that it is not God that I refuse to accept, but the world that He has created—what I do not accept and cannot accept is the God-created world. However, let me make it clear that, like a babe, I trust that the wounds will heal, the scars will vanish, that the sorry and ridiculous spectacle of man’s disagreements and clashes will disappear like a pitiful mirage, like the sordid invention of a puny, microscopic, Euclidean, human brain, and that, in the end, in the universal finale, at the moment universal harmony is achieved, something so magnificent will take place that it will satisfy every human heart, allay all indignation, pay for all human crimes, for all the blood shed by men, and enable everyone not only to forgive everything but also to justify everything that has happened to men. Well, that day may come; all this may come to pass—but I personally still do not accept this world. I refuse to accept it! Even if I see the parallel lines meet myself, I’ll look at them and say they have met, but I still won’t accept it. That’s the way I am, Alyosha, this is where I stand. And this time, I mean what I say seriously. I deliberately started this conversation as stupidly as I could, but I’ve ended up by making a clean breast of my opinions, because that was what you really wanted of me. You didn’t want to hear about God from me. And so I've told you."" You didn't want to hear about God, but only to know what the brother you love lives by. ","You simply wanted to find out what your dear brother lives by, and now I’ve told you.” Ivan finished his long explanation with strange emotion.",1,0.03461884,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 So the Emperor, meditating on this terrible turn of fortune, swept his glass for the last time over all the points of the field of battle. His guard, standing behind him with grounded arms, watched him from below with a sort of religion. He pondered; he examined the slopes, noted the declivities, scrutinized the clumps of trees, the square of rye, the path; he seemed to be counting each bush. He gazed with some intentness at the English barricades of the two highways,—two large abatis of trees, that on the road to Genappe above La Haie-Sainte, armed with two cannon, the only ones out of all the English artillery which commanded the extremity of the field of battle, and that on the road to Nivelles where gleamed the Dutch bayonets of Chassé’s brigade. The guide nodded, probably treacherous. He noticed near this barricade the old chapel of Saint-Nicolas painted white, which is at the corner of the crossing towards Braine-l'Alleud. He leaned over and spoke in a low voice to the Lacoste guide. ","Near this barricade he observed the old chapel of Saint Nicholas, painted white, which stands at the angle of the crossroad near Braine-l’Alleud; he bent down and spoke in a low voice to the guide Lacoste. The guide made a negative sign with his head, which was probably perfidious.",1,0.035144847,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 Send me to Siberia with him, I have brought him to this, I am most to blame,' the woman herself cried, in genuine remorse at the moment of his arrest. As for the prisoner, the tragedy of his fate is evident; it is before us. The enchantress gave the unhappy young man no hope until the last moment, when he knelt before her, stretching out hands that were already stained with the blood of his father and rival. But such was the young person's 'game.' It was in that position that he was arrested. ' We have good evidence of this. The old man, who worshiped money, at once set aside three thousand roubles as a reward for one visit from her, but soon after that, he would have been happy to lay his property and his name at her feet, if only she would become his lawful wife.","The old man, who worshipped money as though it were God, immediately got ready three thousand roubles to give to her merely in exchange for visiting his abode, but was soon reduced to a point where he would have considered it happiness to place at her feet his name and all his fortune, if only she would agree to become his lawful spouse. Of this we have firm testimony. And as for the defendant, well, his tragedy is plain to see, it is before us. But such was the “game” played by the young person. To the unhappy young man the seductress did not even hold out any hope, for hope, genuine hope, was granted him only at the very last moment, when he, down before his tormentress on his knees, stretched out to her his hands already steeped in the blood of his father and rival: in that position, namely, too, was he arrested. “Send me, send me together with him into penal servitude, it was I who pushed him to it, I am more guilty than any!” this woman herself cried out, by now in sincere remorse, at the moment of his arrest.",1,0.035144847,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 Small, black eyes darted to and fro, the cheeks drooped like drunkards, the long beards were stiff and sparse, and if you grabbed them it was as if you were only forming claws, not as if you were grabbing a beard. But under the beards – and that was the real discovery that K. made – badges of different sizes and colors shimmered on the coat collar. Had he thought his speech would have too much impact? K. wanted to run there immediately after the first impression, he also thought that everyone would want to put things in order there and at least show the couple out of the room, but the first rows in front of him remained very firm, nobody moved and nobody let K. through. Had one been pretending while he was talking, and now that he was coming to the conclusions, were one fed up with the pretense? What faces all around him! Hadn't he judged people correctly? On the contrary, they stopped him, old men held out their arms, and some hand - he didn't have time to turn around - - grabbed the back of his collar. K. wasn't really thinking about the couple anymore, he felt as if his freedom were being restricted, as if the arrest were being taken seriously, and he ruthlessly jumped down from the podium. Now he was face to face with the crowd. All had those badges as far as could be seen.","K.'s first impulse was to rush across the room, he naturally imagined that everybody would be anxious to have order restored and the offending couple at least ejected from the meeting, but the first rows of the audience remained quite impassive, no one stirred and no one would let him through. On the contrary they actually obstructed him, someone's hand -- he had no time to turn round -- seized him from behind by the collar, old men stretched out their arms to bar his way, and by this time K. was no longer thinking about the couple, it seemed to him as if his freedom were being threatened, as if he were being arrested in earnest, and he sprang recklessly down from the platform. Now he stood eye to eye with the crowd. Had he been mistaken in these people? Had he overestimated the effectiveness of his speech? Had they been disguising their real opinions while he spoke, and now that he had come to the conclusion of his speech were they weary at last of pretense? What faces these were around him! Their little black eyes darted furtively from side to side, their beards were stiff and brittle, and to take hold of them would be like clutching bunches of claws rather than beards. But under the beards -- and this was K.'s real discovery -- badges of various sizes and colors gleamed on their coatcollars. They all wore these badges, so far as he could see.",1,0.03541073,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 He looked with loathing at her raddled but still ‘piquant’, supercilious Parisian face, at her white cuffs, silk pinafore and little cap. Oui, monsieur,’ she said, making a face, and proceeded to tidy the room, bending elegantly and giving Lavretsky to understand with every movement that she considered him an uneducated bear of a man. This news both amazed and infuriated him. He found neither his wife, nor his daughter, at home; from the servants he learned that she had taken his daughter to the Kalitins. He began to walk backwards and forwards, ceaselessly kicking and casting aside the children’s toys, books and various female belongings that got in his way; he summoned Justine and ordered her to clear away all this ‘trash’. THE previous day Liza had written to Lavretsky, asking him to come that evening; but he went first to his own apartments. ‘Obviously Varvara Pavlovna has decided to leave me nothing to live for,’ he thought with an access of malice in his heart. (nothing on earth would have made him enter her drawing-room, the drawing-room where his wife was), but to Marfa Timofeyevna; he remembered that a back staircase from the servants’ entrance led directly to her room. He dismissed her eventually, and after much hesitation (Varvara Pavlovna had still not returned) made up his mind to go to the Kalitins – not to Marya Dmitrievna","Lisa had written to Lavretsky the day before, to tell him to come in the evening; but he first went home to his lodgings. He found neither his wife nor his daughter at home; from the servants he learned that she had gone with the child to the Kalitins’. This information astounded and maddened him. “Varvara Pavlovna has made up her mind not to let me live at all, it seems,” he thought with a passion of hatred in his heart. He began to walk up and down, and his hands and feet were constantly knocking up against child’s toys, books and feminine belongings; he called Justine and told her to clear away all this “litter.” “Oui, monsieur,” she said with a grimace, and began to set the room in order, stooping gracefully, and letting Lavretsky feel in every movement that she regarded him as an unpolished bear. He looked with aversion at her faded, but still “piquante,” ironical, Parisian face, at her white elbow-sleeves, her silk apron, and little light cap. He sent her away at last, and after long hesitation (as Varvara Pavlovna still did not return) he decided to go to the Kalitins’—not to see Marya Dmitrievna (he would not for anything in the world have gone into that drawing-room, the room where his wife was), but to go up to Marfa Timofyevna’s. He remembered that the back staircase from the servants’ entrance led straight to her apartment.",1,0.03567855,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 20 But what they saw was only a tree on the ground with broken boughs and fallen leaves, without so much as a single fruit on it. Clear Breeze was so aghast that his legs gave way and he fell to the ground; Bright Moon shook so violently that he could hardly stand up. Both of them were scared out of their wits! We have been upbraiding them as if they were chickens all this time, but not once have they even attempted to answer us. We now tell you about the two immortal lads, who ranted at the pilgrims for a long time. Clear Breeze said, “Bright Moon, these monks do take our reproach quite well. “You are right,” said Bright Moon, and the two of them accordingly went back to the garden. We should go and investigate further.” Could it be that they really did not steal the fruits? With the tree so tall and the leaves so dense, we could have made a mistake in our tallying, and we might have chided them unjustly. The two souls are scattered, and there is a poem as proof, the poem says: Sanzang is in the west of Longevity Mountain, and Wukong gave up the grass and returned to the elixir. The leaves open and the root dew falls, the bright moon and the breeze are chilling. The two of them fell into the dust, their language was reversed, and they only called: ""How good! How good! I killed the Dantou in Wuzhuang Temple, and cut off the seedlings of my fairy family! When the master comes home, how can I answer the two of you? Mingyue said: ""Senior brother, don't shout, let's straighten our clothes, don't startle these monks. This one has no one else, it must be the guy with the hairy face and Lei Gongzui. My precious treasure. If we talk to him, that guy will deny it after all, and we must fight with him. If we fight, we will fight each other. How can you think of the two of us, how can we beat the four of them? Why don't you coax him? Coax, I just said that there are a lot of fruits. We counted them wrong, so let's go with him. Their rice is already cooked, and when he eats, we will post some dishes for him. His family has a bowl, but you are standing there. On the left side of the door, I stood on the right side of the door, slammed the door down, locked the lock, locked the doors on several floors, don't let him, wait for the master to come home, how can he deal with him. He is master's again The old man, forgiving him is also a favor of the master; if we don’t forgive him, we will also catch a thief, and the commoners can save us from the crime.” Qingfeng heard the words: “It’s reasonable! It’s reasonable!”","However, he said that the fairy boy had been scolding for a long time, and Qingfeng said: ""Mingyue, these monks are also very angry. We are like scolding chickens. Ye Mi, the number is unknown, don't scold him! I'll go check with you again."" Mingyue said, ""That's right."" The two fruits went to the garden again, and they saw that the tree fell open, With no leaves falling, Qingfeng's feet fell softly, and Mingyue's waist was smashed with dirt.",1,0.03594832,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 "" Come with me. I'll send you on your way.","“You’ve cursed my head!” raged Monkey. “That’s a bit strong,” protested Tripitaka. “I was only reciting the Tight Hoop Spell.” “Do it again,” asked Monkey. Soon enough, he was begging Tripitaka to stop. “Now will you listen to me?” asked Tripitaka. “I will!” “No more mischief?” “I wouldn’t dare!” Monkey’s heart, however, still plotted rebellion.",1,0.036769465,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 Between the two other towers were laid out courts for balloon and royal-tennis. Beside the river were the pleasure-gardens with a maze in the middle, all very beautiful.","“But because, according to the wise Solomon, knowledge does not enter into a malicious soul [30], and knowledge without conscience is only ruin of the soul, it is appropriate for you to serve, love and fear God and put all in him your thoughts and all your hope and by faith, formed of charity, be added to him, so that never be distraught[31] by sin. Have suspicions the abuses of the world.",1,0.03704717,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 “I’ll explain that to you later; but now, my dear fellow, I declare . . . no, even better, ‘I confess. . . .’ No, that’s not right either: ‘I’m making a statement, and you take it down,’ ” that’s what! So I’m making a statement that I’ve been reading , that I’ve taken an interest in . . . that I was looking for, that I was searching . . .” Zametov looked at him straight at point-blank range, without moving or moving his face away from his. - Raskolnikov screwed up his eyes and waited, - searched - and for this reason he came here, - about the murder of an old clerk, - he finally said, almost in a whisper, extremely bringing his face to Zametov's face. What struck Zametov afterwards as strange of all was that their silence lasted for exactly a full minute, and for exactly a full minute they looked at each other like that. ","Raskolnikov screwed up his eyes and waited. “What I found out—and that’s exactly why I came here—about the murder of the old woman, the civil servant’s widow,” he said at last, almost in a whisper, drawing his face extremely close to Zametov’s face. Zametov stared directly at him without stirring, not moving his face away from Raskolnikov’s. Later it seemed to Zametov that the strangest thing about that moment was that their silence lasted a full minute, and for that minute they stared directly at each other.",1,0.037326884,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 ‘But you’re obliged to,’ I said. You’ve been hiding it from us,’ he said. ‘You’re a Lovelace. ‘ * And now they all call me ‘Lovelace’, and won’t address me by any other name! I went into the room where they were and accused Ratazyayev of treachery; I told him he was a traitor. Ratazyayev replied that I myself was a traitor, that I spent my time with ‘various conquests’: ‘ Now they know everything, they have all the facts, they know about you, my darling, they know about all your personal matters, they know it all! Do you hear, my little angel, do you hear? Why, even Faldoni was there, and he is in cahoots with them; I sent him out to the sausage-shop to buy something; he simply refused to go; ‘I’m busy,’ he said. They named us, they named us out loud and hooted with laughter, the traitors!","Magnified, magnified us, laughed, laughed, traitors! I went in to them and convicted Ratazyaev of treachery; told him he was a traitor! And Ratazyaev answered me that I myself was a traitor, that I was engaged in various conkets [9]; says, - you were hiding from us, you, they say, Lovelace [10] ; and now everyone calls me Lovelace, and I have no other name! Do you hear, my angel, do you hear - now they know everything, they are known about everything, and they know about you, my dear, and about everything that you have, they know about everything! Why! and Faldoni there too, and he is at one with them ; I sent him today to the sausage shop, so bring something; does not go and only, there is a thing, he says! “But you have to,” I say.",1,0.037608635,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 So it was at her home, and there her father had his high seat at the board’s end — but then the beds there were by the entrance wall. At home her mother sat highest up on the outer bench, so that she could go to and fro and keep an eye on the service of the food. Only when there was a feast did Ragnfrid sit by her husband’s side. But here the high seat stood in the middle of the eastern gable-end, and Erlend would have her always sit in it with him. At home her father always placed God’s servants in the high seat, if any such were guests at the manor, and he himself and Ragnfrid served them while they ate and drank. But Erlend would have none of this, unless they were high of station. He did not love priests and monks very much - they were dear friends, he thought. Kristin could not but think of what her father and Sira Eirik always said, when folk complained of the churchmen’s greed of money: men forgot the sinful joys they had snatched for themselves when the time came to pay for them.","He was no great lover of priests and monks — they were costly friends, he was used to say.",1,0.037608635,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 - Oh no! After all, you know, I saw him, Seryozha, ”Anna said, screwing up her eyes, as if peering into something distant. - However, we will talk about it later. Believe it or not, I’m as if hungry, who was suddenly given a full dinner, and he doesn’t know what to start. A full dinner is you and the upcoming conversations with you that I could not have with anyone; and I don’t know what conversation to take first. Mais je ne vous fеrai grâce de rien. [221] I have to say everything. Yes, you need to sketch out the society that you will find with us, - she began. - I start with the ladies. Princess Varvara. You know her, and I know your opinion and Steve's about her. Steve says that the whole purpose of her life is to prove her superiority over Aunt Katerina Pavlovna; this is all true; but she is kind, and I am so grateful to her. There was a minute in Petersburg when I needed un chaperon. [222] And she came along. She made my situation a lot easier. I see you don’t realize all the difficulty of my situation ... But, really, she’s kind. I see that you do not understand the full gravity of my position ... there, in Petersburg, ”she added. - Here I am completely calm and happy. Well, yes, that's after. It is necessary to list. Then Sviyazhsky - he is a leader, and he is a very decent person, but he needs something from Alexei. You understand, with his condition, now that we have settled in the village, Alexei can have a great influence. Then Tushkevich - you saw him, he was with Betsy. Now he was put aside, and he came to us. He, as Alexei says, is one of those people who are very pleasant if taken for what they want to appear, et puis, comme il faut, [223] as Princess Varvara says. Then Veslovsky ... you know that. Very sweet boy, ”she said, and her cheeky smile curled up her lips. - What is this wild story with Levin? Veslovsky told Alexei, and we do not believe. Il est très gentil et naїf, [224] - she said again with the same smile. - Men need entertainment, and Alexei needs an audience, so I value all this society. We need to be lively and cheerful and that Alexei does not want anything new. Then the manager, German, is very good and knows his business. Alexey appreciates him very much. Then a doctor, a young man, not exactly a nihilist, but, you know, he eats with a knife ... but a very good doctor. Then the architect ... Une petite cour. [225]","Then she turned up. But, really, she is kind. She made my situation much easier for me.",1,0.037892424,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 I’ll shout out to everybody there, “Look at this young puppy going off to captivate the beautiful Circassians with my spittle on his cheek!” I shall be seized and tried, driven out of the service, put in prison, sent to Siberia, to a penal settlement. It doesn’t matter. In fifteen years’ time I shall drag myself in search of him, destitute, in rags, when I am let out of prison. I shall find him somewhere in a provincial capital. He will be married, and happy. He will have a grown-up daughter…. I shall say, “Look, monster, look at my wasted cheeks, and at my rags and tatters! I have lost everything – career, happiness, art, science, a loved woman, and all because of you. . and I forgive you.’ Here are the pistols. I've come to discharge my pistol, and . . Then I shall fire into the air, and nothing more will ever be heard of me…’","Look at these pistols. I have come to discharge my pistol, and… and I forgive you.”",1,0.03846619,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 0 Moonlike, it cast through the ivy-covered trellis a light so dim that the dusk still veiled the outlines of Olga's face and figure--it still shrouded them, as it were, in crêpe; while the soft, strong voice, vibrating with nervous tension, came ringing through the darkness with a note of mystery. Evening was closing in, and the lamp had been lit.","If only you knew how wretched I was! I don’t know whether I am to blame or not, whether I ought to be ashamed of my past or be sorry for it, whether to hope for the future or to despair.",1,0.03875619,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 In the morning she slept a little. When she woke up, she felt sick. She ordered the curtains drawn, spoke to her doctor of nausea and a headache, and for two days absolutely refused to go out. Since she was pretending to be under siege, moreover, she closed her door to all visitors. Maxime came and knocked, but to no avail. He would keep company with some mistress while the paint was still wet. He did not sleep in the house, preferring to be free to do as he pleased in his rooms; and in fact he led the most nomadic life in the world, living in his father’s new houses, choosing the floor he liked best, moving every month, often on a whim, sometimes to make room for tenants. Accustomed to his stepmother’s caprices, he feigned great compassion and went up to her room four times a day to put on a long face and ask how she was, just to tease her. On the third day he found her in the small salon, in the pink, smiling, looking calm and rested.","In order to be free to use his apartment as he pleased, he had stopped sleeping at home. Indeed, he led the most nomadic life imaginable, taking up residence in new houses his father had built, choosing whatever floor he liked, and moving monthly from one place to another, often on a whim but sometimes to make room for paying tenants. He would move in with a mistress before the paint had dried.",1,0.03904829,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 But what’s with you, brother, you’re so withdrawn from everybody, you don’t go anywhere? you like to read” (what made Nozdryov conclude that our hero occupied himself with learned subjects and liked to read, we must confess, we simply cannot say, and still less could Chichikov). Imagine Derebin’s luck: his aunt quarreled with her son for marrying a serf girl, and now she’s willed him her whole estate. is also unknown). “Imagine, brother, we were playing a game of brag at the merchant Likhachev’s, and how we laughed! I’m thinking to myself, it wouldn’t be bad to have such an aunt for further on! “Ah, brother Chichikov, if only you’d seen it … that really would have been food for your satirical mind” (why Chichikov should have a satirical mind Of course, I know you’re sometimes occupied with learned subjects,","Only fancy, what luck for Derebin: his aunt has quarrelled with her son because he has married a serf girl, and now she has left him all her property. I thought to myself if only one could have an aunt like that for the sake of the future! But how is it, old man, you have kept away from all of us and have not been near any one? Of course I know you are sometimes engaged in abstruse studies, you are fond of reading” (on what ground Nozdryov believed that Tchitchikov was engaged in abstruse subjects and was fond of reading we must own we cannot tell, and still less could Tchitchikov). “Ah, Tchitchikov, old man, if you had only seen . . . it really would have been a subject for your sarcastic wit” (why Tchitchikov was supposed to have a sarcastic wit is unknown also). “Only fancy, old boy, we were having a game of cards at the merchant Lihatchev‘s, and didn’t we have fun there too!",1,0.039342504,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 The superintendent entered and humbly began to ask his excellency to wait only two hours, after which he would give courier for his excellency (what will be, will be). The caretaker obviously lied and only wanted to get extra money from the traveler. “Was it bad or good?” Pierre asked himself. “It’s good for me, it’s bad for another passing by, but it’s inevitable for him, because he has nothing to eat: he said that an officer beat him up for this. And the officer nailed him because he had to go sooner. And I shot at Dolokhov because I considered myself insulted, and Louis XVI was executed because he was considered a criminal, and a year later those who executed him were also killed for something. What is good? What is bad? Why live, and what am I? What should one love, what hate? What is life, what is death? What power governs everything?” he asked himself. And there was no answer to any of these questions, except for one, not a logical answer, not at all to these questions. This answer was: “If you die, everything will end. You will die and you will know everything, or you will stop asking.” But it was also scary to die.","What's wrong? What well? What should you love, what should you hate? Why live, and what am I?",1,0.039342504,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 My uncle advised Swann to go a while without seeing Odette, who would love him all the more, and advised Odette to let Swann find her wherever he pleased. A few days later, Odette told Swann that she had just had a disappointment when she saw that my uncle was like all men: he had just tried to take her by force. She calmed Swann, who at first wanted to go and provoke my uncle, but he refused to shake her hand when he met him. He regretted this quarrel with my uncle Adolphe all the more because he had hoped, if he had seen him again a few times and had been able to talk with him in complete confidence, to try to clear up certain rumors relating to the life that Odette had formerly carried out in Nice. But my uncle Adolphe used to spend the winter there. And Swann thought that might even be where he had known Odette. The little that had escaped anyone in front of him, relative to a man who would have been Odette's lover, had upset Swann. Only, each one of them in its passage traced an indelible line, altering the picture that he had formed of his mistress. But the very things which he would, before knowing them, have regarded as the most terrible to learn and the most impossible to believe, were, once he knew them, incorporated for all time in the general mass of his sorrow; he admitted them, he could no longer have understood their not existing. He even thought he understood, once, that this levity in Odette's morals, which he had not suspected, was well enough known, and that in Baden-Baden and Nice, when she used to spend several months there, she had had a kind of gallant notoriety. He sought, to question them, to get closer to certain viveurs; but these knew that he knew Odette; and then he was afraid of making them think of her again, of putting them on her trail. But he, to whom until then nothing could have seemed as tedious as anything related to the cosmopolitan life of Baden or Nice, learning that Odette had perhaps once partied in these cities of pleasure, without that he should ever come to know if it was only to satisfy money needs that thanks to him she no longer had, or to whims that could reappear, now he bent down with helpless anguish, blind and vertiginous towards the bottomless abyss into which had gone to be engulfed those years of the beginning of the Septennium during which we spent the winter on the Promenade des Anglais, the summer under the lime trees of Baden, and he found in them a painful but magnificent depth like that which a poet would have lent them; and he would have set about reconstructing the small facts of the chronicle of the Côte d'Azur of the time, if it had been able to help him to understand something of the smile or the looks - yet so honest and so simple - of Odette, more passion than the beautician who examines the surviving documents of 15th century Florence to try to enter further into the soul of the Primavera, the bella Vanna, or the Venus, by Botticelli. Often without saying anything to her he looked at her, he thought; she said to him: “How sad you look! Not long ago, from the idea that she was a good creature, analogous to the best he had known, he had passed to the idea that she was a kept woman; conversely, he had since come back from Odette de Crécy, perhaps too well known to revelers, ladies' men, to this face with an expression sometimes so sweet, to this nature so human. He said to himself: “What does it mean that everyone in Nice knows who Odette de Crécy is? These reputations, even true ones, are made with the ideas of others”; he thought that this legend – even if it was authentic – was exterior to Odette, was not in her like an irreducible and malevolent personality; that the creature who could have been brought to do wrong was a woman with good eyes, a heart full of pity for suffering, a docile body which he had held and hugged and handled, a woman he might one day possess completely, if he succeeded in making himself indispensable to her. She was there, often tired, her face empty for a moment of the feverish and joyous preoccupation with the unknown things which made Swann suffer; she parted her hair with her hands; his forehead, his face seemed broader; then, suddenly, some simply human thought, some good feeling such as exists in all creatures, when in a moment of rest or withdrawal they are left to themselves, flashed from his eyes like a yellow ray . And immediately her whole face lit up like a gray countryside, covered with clouds which suddenly part, for her transfiguration, at the moment of the setting sun. The life that was in Odette at that moment, the very future that she seemed to gaze upon dreamily, Swann could have shared with her; no evil agitation seemed to have left any residue there. However rare they became, these moments were not useless. By memory Swann connected these plots, abolished the intervals, flowed like gold an Odette of kindness and calm for which he later made (as we will see in the second part of this work), sacrifices that the other Odette would not have obtained. But how rare these moments were, and how little he saw her now! Even for their evening date, she didn't tell him until the last minute if she could grant it to him because, counting that she would always find him free, she first wanted to be certain that no one else would offer to come.","But the things he would, before knowing them, have found the most awful to learn and the most impossible to believe, once he knew them, they were forever incorporated into his sadness, he admitted them, he could no longer have understood that they had not been. Only each operated on the idea that he had of his mistress an indelible touch.",1,0.04054074,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 Latterly during the loneliness in which he found himself as he lay facing the back of the sofa, a loneliness in the midst of a populous town and surrounded by numerous acquaintances and relations but that yet could not have been more complete anywhere — either at the bottom of the sea or under the earth — during that terrible loneliness Ivan ilych had lived only in memories of the past. Pictures of his past rose before him one after another. they always began with what was nearest in time and then went back to what was most remote — to his childhood — and rested there. If he thought of the stewed prunes that had been offered him that day, his mind went back to the raw shrivelled French plums of his childhood, their peculiar flavour and the flow of saliva when he sucked their stones, and along with the memory of that taste came a whole series of memories of those days: his nurse, his brother, and their toys. “No, I mustn’t thing of that... It is too painful,” Ivan Ilych said to himself, and brought himself back to the present — to the button on the back of the sofa and the creases in its morocco. “Morocco is expensive, but it does not wear well: there had been a quarrel about it. But the morocco was different, and another quarrel, when we tore the briefcase from my father and we were punished, and my mother brought pies. And again his thoughts dwelt on his childhood, and again it was painful and he tried to banish them and fix his mind on something else.","It was a different kind of quarrel and a different kind of morocco that time when we tore father’s portfolio and were punished, and mamma brought us some tarts ...”",1,0.040845715,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 ""What does it all mean?"" ""Why, it is sheer torture! he said to himself as he rocked himself to and fro. Have I made myself ridiculous? ","‘You see, I guessed that you knew!’ he said. ‘But why “don’t”?’ he added sadly afterwards.",1,0.041462272,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 It wasn't credulity that immediately suggested this; faith, on the contrary, had become so heavy that it sank from the trembling and fell to the bottom of the well. But now one dared to attack the body of his empire; from Granada the Jews had been instigated to exterminate all Christians, and this time they had bought themselves more terrible executors. At the time of his superstitious impulses he had prescribed the Angelus for himself and those around him against the demons of the twilight; and now this calming prayer was rung every evening all over the excited world. he, against his strong will, formed the thought several times that he might thereby kill himself and vanish like wax on a fire. His diminished body only grew drier with horror and more permanent. No one doubted the lepers' attack, right from the first rumours; already some had seen them throw bundles of their terrible decomposition into the wells. And again the eager old man had to keep poison from the blood. With this exception, however, all the bulls and missives issued by him were more like spiced wine than a tisane. The empire had not put itself in his hands for treatment, but still he never wearied of heaping proofs of its sickness upon it; and already people were coming from the furthest East to consult this imperious physician.","But the terror these secret simulacra instilled in him was such that, in the teeth of his strong will, the thought often came to him that, if he did so, he might prove his own undoing, and melt away himself like the wax in the fire. His shrunken body became even drier with the fear, and more enduring. Now, however, they were threatening the body of his empire; from Granada, the Jews had been incited to wipe out every Christian, and this time they had bought more terrible hirelings to carry out the work. Nobody doubted, from the very first rumours, that the lepers were plotting; some had already seen them throwing bundles of their fearful decomposition into the wells. If people readily believed this possible, it was not out of mere credulity; quite the contrary – faith had grown so heavy that it fell from their trembling grasp to the very bottom of the wells. And once again the zealous old man must needs avert the poison from his blood. At the time when the fits of superstition were upon him, he had prescribed the angelus for himself and his entourage, to ward off the demons of the twilight; and now, throughout the whole agitated world, the bells were rung every evening for that calming prayer.",1,0.04177388,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 20 The place where he could no longer say anything and hesitated, and cut the table, and swayed in a chair, was where he had to say about the antediluvian patriarchs. Before he remembered the names, but now he completely forgot, especially because Enoch was his beloved face from the entire Old Testament, and a whole long train of thought was tied in his head to the taking of Enoch alive to heaven, to which he now indulged himself with fixed eyes looking on my father's watch chain and a half-buttoned waistcoat button. Seryozha spoke well of the events themselves, but when it was necessary to answer questions about what certain events represented, he did not know anything, despite the fact that he had already been punished for this lesson. Seryozha looked at his father with a frightened look and thought of only one thing: whether or not his father would make him repeat what he said, as it sometimes happened. But my father did not force me to repeat it and went on to the lesson from the Old Testament. Of these, he knew no one, except Enoch, taken alive to heaven. And this thought so frightened Seryozha that he no longer understood anything. He frowned and began to explain what Seryozha had already heard many times and could never remember, because he understood too clearly - like that ""suddenly"" is a circumstance of a course of action. ","He frowned and began to explain what Seryozha had already heard many times and could never remember, because he understood it all too clearly - the same sort of thing as ‘thus’ being an adverbial modifier of manner. Seryozha looked at his father with frightened eyes and thought of one thing only: whether or not his father would make him repeat what he said, as sometimes happened. And this thought frightened him so much that he no longer understood anything. But his father did not make him repeat it and went on to the lesson from the Old Testament. Seryozha recounted the events themselves quite well, but when he had to answer questions about what some of the events foreshadowed, he knew nothing, though he had already been punished for this lesson. The place where he could no longer say anything and mumbled, and cut the table, and rocked on the chair, was the one where he had to speak of the antediluvian patriarchs. He knew none of them except Enoch, who had been taken alive to heaven.41 He had remembered the names before, but now he had quite forgotten them, especially because Enoch was his favourite person in all the Old Testament, and Enoch’s having been taken alive to heaven was connected in his mind with a whole long train of thought to which he now gave himself, staring with fixed eyes at his father’s watch chain and a waistcoat button half-way through the buttonhole.",1,0.04208773,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 We entered the Commandant’s house. Ivan Ignatyich opened the doors and solemnly proclaimed: “I have brought them!” We were met by Vasilisa Yegorovna. What does it look like? what? as? Ah, my fathers! Planning murder in our fortress! Ivan Kuzmich, put them under arrest at once! Pyotr Andreyich, Alexey Ivanych! Give me your swords, give them up, give them up! Palasha, take these swords to the pantry! I did not expect this of you, Pyotr Andreyich; aren’t you ashamed of yourself? It is all very well for Alexey Ivanych—he has been dismissed from the Guards for killing a man, and he does not believe in God, but fancy you doing a thing like this! Do you want to be like him?”",“Goodness me! What ever next? What? How could you?,1,0.04208773,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 either someone's hand cracks, or a blister pops up on someone's nose. Everyone in the house and in the neighborhood, from the yard girl to the yard dog, ran away when they saw him; he even broke his own bed in the bedroom into pieces. One was the father of the family, named Kifa Mokievich, a man of meek disposition, who spent his life in a negligent manner. He did not take care of his family; his existence was turned more speculatively and occupied with the following, as he called it, philosophical question: “Here, for example, the beast,” he said, walking around the room, “the beast will be born naked. Why not like a bird , why doesn't it hatch from an egg? He never knew how to lightly grasp anything: This is how the inhabitant of Kifa Mokievich thought. But this is not the main point. How, really, that: you won’t understand nature at all, as you go deeper into it! Another inhabitant was Mokiy Kifovich, his own son. Why exactly naked? He was what they call in Russia a hero, and at the time when his father was engaged in the birth of the beast, his twenty-year-old broad-shouldered nature was trying to turn around.","One of those natives was a good man named Kifa Mokievitch, and a man of kindly disposition; a man who went through life in a dressing-gown, and paid no heed to his household, for the reason that his whole being was centred upon the province of speculation, and that, in particular, he was preoccupied with a philosophical problem usually stated by him thus: “A beast,” he would say, “is born naked. Now, why should that be? Why should not a beast be born as a bird is born—that is to say, through the process of being hatched from an egg? Nature is beyond the understanding, however much one may probe her.” This was the substance of Kifa Mokievitch’s reflections. But herein is not the chief point. The other of the pair was a fellow named Mofi Kifovitch, and son to the first named. He was what we Russians call a “hero,” and while his father was pondering the parturition of beasts, his, the son’s, lusty, twenty-year-old temperament was violently struggling for development. Yet that son could tackle nothing without some accident occurring. At one moment would he crack some one’s fingers in half, and at another would he raise a bump on somebody’s nose; so that both at home and abroad every one and everything—from the serving-maid to the yard-dog—fled on his approach, and even the bed in his bedroom became shattered to splinters.",1,0.042722195,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 He left the house early in the morning; he appeared no earlier than midnight. He made a simple exchange of greetings with the guests; for propriety’s sake he meekly uttered a “phoophoo,” dropping in a twenty-copeck piece (if Count Aven or Ommau-Ommergau was there), or modestly nodded his head at the words “revolution-evolution,” drank a cup of tea, and—off he went to his room. The men about town called him that army type, and the young students, the Prussian. Sergei Sergeyevich Likhutin would gladly have done without both “phoophoos” and the words “revolution-evolution.” As a matter of fact, he would not have been averse to getting to the baroness for a seance; but he did not at all insist on his modest desire for the rights of a husband, for he was by no means a despot in relation to Sofya Petrovna: he loved Sofya Petrovna with all the strength of his soul; moreover: two and a half years ago he married her against the wishes of his parents, the richest Simbirsk landowners; from that time on he was cursed by his father and deprived of his fortune; from that time on, unexpectedly modestly for everyone, he entered the Gregory regiment. ","He would not have been averse to going to the Baroness for some spiritualism, but he did not use his position as a husband to insist on it: he was no despot with Sofia Petrovna. Two and a half years earlier he had married her against the wishes of his parents, very wealthy landowners. As a result, he had been cursed by his father and deprived of his inheritance.",1,0.04369106,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 "" After this characterization, it is clear that she could laugh at both of them solely for play, for evil play. And in this month of hopeless love, moral downfalls, betrayal of his bride, appropriation of other people's money entrusted to his honor - the defendant, moreover, comes almost to frenzy, to rage, from incessant jealousy, and to whom, to his father! “Early disappointment, early deception and fall, betrayal of the seducing groom, abandoned her, then poverty, the curse of an honest family and, finally, the patronage of one rich old man, whom she, however, herself considers even now her benefactor. A mockery and vengefulness to society was formed. And most importantly, the insane old man lures and seduces the object of his passion - with the same three thousand, which his son considers his ancestral, the inheritance of his mother, in which he reproaches his father. A calculating character, accumulating capital, was formed. Yes, I agree, it was hard to bear! In a young heart, perhaps containing a lot of good things, anger lurked too early.","She was left in poverty, cursed by her respectable family, and taken under the protection of a wealthy old man, whom she still, however, considers as her benefactor. There was perhaps much that was good in her young heart, but it was embittered too early. She became prudent and saved money. She grew sarcastic and resentful against society.' After this sketch of her character it may well be understood that she might laugh at both of them simply from mischief, from malice. "" After a month of hopeless love and moral degradation, during which he betrayed his betrothed and appropriated money entrusted to his honor, the prisoner was driven almost to frenzy, almost to madness by continual jealousy--and of whom? His father! And the worst of it was that the crazy old man was alluring and enticing the object of his affection by means of that very three thousand roubles, which the son looked upon as his own property, part of his inheritance from his mother, of which his father was cheating him. Yes, I admit it was hard to bear!",1,0.04369106,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 “Well, that’s enough, that’s enough! - I exclaimed, - I do not protest, take it! Prince... where are the prince and Darzan? Gone? Gentlemen, have you seen where the prince and Darzan have gone? - and, finally picking up all my money, and not having time to put a few semi-imperials in my pocket and holding in handfuls, I set off to catch up with the prince and Darzan. The reader will see, I think, that I don't spare myself, and am recording at this moment what I was then, and all my nastiness, so as to explain the possibility of what followed. ","The reader, it seems, sees that I do not spare myself and I recall at that moment all of myself then, to the last disgusting thing, so that it would be clear what could come out later.",1,0.04369106,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 She also made an appearance in the chamber dressed entirely in black, with her magnificent black shawl around her shoulders. Lightly, with her inaudible step, and a slight sway of the kind with which plump women sometimes walk, she approached the balustrade, gazing fixedly at the chairman and never once glancing either to right or to left. It is my view that she looked very beautiful at that moment and not at all pale, as the ladies asserted later on. They also asserted that her face bore a look that was somehow concentrated and malicious. I merely suppose that she was short of temper and feeling heavily upon her the contemptuously inquisitive eyes of our public, eager as it was for scandal. This was a proud character that would not tolerate contempt, one of that kind which at the merest suspicion of contempt from anyone immediately becomes inflamed with anger and the craving to administer a rebuff. Combined with this there was, of course, also timidity and an inner shame at this timidity, so it was not surprising that her discourse was uneven – now tinged with wrath, now contemptuous and intensely rude, now suddenly filled with a sincere and heartfelt note of self-condemnation and self-accusation. Sometimes, on the other hand, she spoke as though she were falling over some kind of precipice, as if to say: ‘It makes no difference, whatever happens I am going to say it all the same …’ With regard to her acquaintance with Fyodor Pavlovich, she commented sharply: ‘It was nothing at all; am I to blame that he came pestering me?’ And then a moment later added: ‘I am to blame for it all, I laughed at the one and at the other – both at the old man and at that man there – and drove them both to it. Somehow the matter touched Samsonov: "" Everything happened because of me. "" she at once bit off with a kind of brazen challenge. ‘ He was my benefactor, he took me barefoot when my kinsfolk had chucked me out of the izba.’ The chairman, though ever so politely, reminded her that she must answer the questions directly, without embarking upon superfluous detail. Grushenka flushed, and her eyes glittered.",It was because of me that it all took place.’ Somehow the questioning touched on Samsonov: ‘What business is that of anyone?’,1,0.04401865,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 But he said that the fifty defeated little demons, with some broken flags and drums, crashed into the hole and reported: ""Your Majesty, the tiger pioneer couldn't defeat the Mao-faced monk, and he was driven down the east hill by him."" Wen said, very annoyed, he was bowing his head silently, pondering a plan, and then the little demon who held the front door said: ""Your Majesty, Tiger Pioneer was beaten to death by that hairy-faced monk, dragged to the door to scold and fight."" That old demon heard Yan, became more annoyed and said: ""This fellow is ignorant! I have never eaten his master, he turned to kill my pioneer, hateful! Hateful!"" He shouted: ""Take the robe. I only heard about Sun Xingzhe, etc. I'll go out and see what kind of monk with nine heads and eight tails it is, bring him in and fight against my tiger pioneer. "" The little demons hurriedly took off their cloaks. The old demon finished neatly, with a three-strand steel fork, and the handsome group of demons jumped out of the hole. The great sage stopped outside the door and saw that the monster was about to come out. He was really brave. See how he dresses up, but see: the golden helmet shines in the sun, and the golden armor condenses. The tail of the pheasant floats on the helmet, and the robe is pale yellow. His breastplate emits eye-dazzling light. His boots of suede Are dyed by locust flowers. His embroidered kilt Is decked with willow leaves. Holding a three-strand steel fork, he will not be the saint of the year.","The armor and sash are covered with dazzling colors, and the goggles around the eyes are brilliant. Moccasin boots, dyed with locust flowers; brocade apron, willow velvet makeup.",1,0.044348583,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 Only life was more interested in and afraid of death, the Max who took refuge in the room at the beginning of autumn. But my life was changing every day and every minute. It seemed to me that the length of time and the changes that people might have made over the years had doubled and accelerated thousands of times faster for me. If the happiness goes in the opposite direction to zero and maybe exceeds zero - there are those who start dying at the age of twenty, while many people only die very slowly at the time of their death, like a tallow that runs out of oil. At noontime, when my nanny brought my lunch, I slapped the underside of the ash1 bowl and screamed, I screamed with all my might. The entire household gathered in front of my room, that whore also came and quickly passed by. I looked at his belly, he had come up. No, she was not yet born.","be. At noon, when my midwife brought lunch, I knocked under the bowl of soup, shouted, shouted with all my might, all the people of the house came and gathered in front of my room. That Lakata also came and passed quickly.",1,0.044680875,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 He took it into his head to try to start some kind of school between them, but this turned out to be such nonsense that he hung his head - it was better not to even think about it! All this significantly cooled his zeal for the economy, and for the judicial case, and in general for activity. During the harvesting of bread, he did not look at how sheaves were stacked in shocks, crosses, and sometimes just a shish. He did not care whether lazily or quickly threw haystacks and laid luggage. where did she get them from, God knows her. During mowing, he did not look at the rapid lifting of sixty scythes at once and the measured, with a slight noise, falling under them in rows of tall grass; he looked instead at some meander of the river, along the banks of which a red-nosed, red-legged martyn walked - of course, a bird, and not a man; he watched how this martyn, having caught a fish, held it across his nose, as if considering whether to swallow or not to swallow, and at the same time gazing intently along the river, where in the distance another martyn was visible, who had not yet caught the fish, but was looking intently at martyn, who had already caught a fish. Whether work was done near, he was away from it; whether she was far away - his eyes searched for what was closer. The quail beats, the twitch twitches in the grass, the flying linnets rumble and chirp, the larks trill down the invisible air stairs, and the chirping of the cranes, rushing to the side in a line - the exact ringing of silver trumpets - is heard in the void of the resoundingly shaking air desert. Closing his eyes and raising his head upwards to the expanses of heaven, he allowed his sense of smell to drink in the smell of the fields, and his hearing to be amazed by the voices of the airy melodious population, when it from everywhere, from heaven and from earth, unites into one sound-consonant choir, without contradicting each other. At work, he was already present almost without attention: his thoughts were far away, his eyes searched for foreign objects. “Go, go only from my eyes, God be with you!” said poor Tentetnikov, and after that he had the pleasure of seeing how the sick woman, having gone out of the gate, grabbed some turnips with her neighbor and broke off her sides in such a way that even a healthy peasant would not be able to.","(where she had picked them up, goodness only knows). “Go away, go where you like as long as it is out of my sight,” said poor Tyentyetnikov, and immediately afterwards had the satisfaction of seeing the woman at once, on going out of the gate, come to blows with a neighbour over a turnip and in spite of her ailing condition give her as sound a leathering as any sturdy peasant could have done. He had an idea of setting up a school among them, but this led to such a ridiculous fiasco that he hung his head and felt that it would have been better not to have thought of it. All this perceptibly cooled his zeal for looking after his estate as well as for the judicial and moral duties of his position, in fact for activity generally. He was present at the field labours almost without noticing them; his thoughts were far away, his eyes sought extraneous objects. During the mowing he did not watch the rapid rising and falling of the sixty scythes, and the regular fall of the high grass into long rows beneath them; he looked away at some bend in the river, on the bank of which some red-beaked, red-legged martin was walking—a bird of course, not a man; he watched how the martin having caught a fish held it crossways in his beak, hesitating whether to swallow it or not, and at the same time looked up the river where another martin could be seen who had not yet caught a fish, but was watching intently the martin who had. When the corn was being cut he did not watch how the sheaves were being laid in cocks or ricks or sometimes simply in a heap; he did not care whether they threw the sheaves up and made the cornstacks lazily or vigorously. Screwing up his eyes and gazing upwards at the vast expanse of the sky, he let his nostrils drink in the scent of the fields and his ears marvel at the voices of the numberless singers of the air when from all sides, from heaven and earth alike they unite in one chorus, without jarring on one another. The quail lashes its whip, the landrail utters its harsh grating cry among the grass, the linnets twitter and chirrup as they flit to and fro, the trills of the lark fall drop by drop down an unseen airy ladder, and the calls of the cranes, floating by in a long string, like the ringing notes of silver bugles, resound in the void of the melodiously vibrating ether. If the work were going on near by, he was far away; if it were far away, his eyes sought something near by.",1,0.044680875,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 Once, many years ago, I said to an influential person: 'Your wife is a ticklish lady,' in an honorable sense, of the moral qualities, so to speak. And would you believe it, it ruined our business! Always injuring myself with my politeness. But he asked me, 'Why, have you tickled her?' And I'm always like that, always like that. I followed him, shouting, 'Yes, yes, you are an Ispravnik, not a Napravnik.' ' No,' he said, 'since you called me a Napravnik I am one.'","‘Wait,’ I call out to him. ‘You’re right, absolutely right. You’re an ispravnik and not Mr. Napravnik.’ ‘No,’ he says, ‘you cannot take it back now—I am Napravnik.’ And, of course, our business deal fell through. It’s always the same with me —I get myself into trouble by being too friendly! Once—it was many, many years ago —I said to a very important man: ‘Your wife, sir,’ I said, ‘is a very ticklish lady,’ meaning in the sense of honor, of moral qualities, you know, and I never expected him to ask me: ‘What do you know about it? Have you ever tickled her?’",1,0.045015533,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 He did not understand what fury of locomotion pushed these individuals not to want to stop. He tried sometimes, and immediately he heard exclamations of anger from behind him. Then he whipped his two nags all the more sweatily, but heedless of the jolting, snagging here and there, careless, demoralized, and almost crying with thirst, fatigue, and sadness. From time to time the coachman in his seat cast despairing glances at the cabarets. She was seen at Saint-Pol, Lescure, Mont Gargan, Rouge-Mare, and Place du Gaillard-Bois; rue Maladrerie, rue Dinanderie, in front of Saint-Romain, Saint-Vivien, Saint-Maclou, Saint-Nicaise, – in front of the Customs, – at the lower Vieille-Tour, at Trois-Pipes and at the Monumental Cemetery. She came back; and then, without bias or direction, at random, she wandered off. ","There it turned back; and from then on it wandered at random, without apparent goal. It was seen at Saint-Pol, at Lescure, at Mont-Gargan, at Rouge-Mare and the Place du Gaillardbois; in the Rue Maladrerie, the Rue Dinanderie, and in front of one church after another—Saint-Romain, Saint-Vivien, Saint-Maclou, Saint-Nicaise; in front of the customs house, at the Basse Vieille-Tour, at Trois-Pipes, and at the Cimetière Monumental. From his seat the coachman now and again cast a desperate glance at a café. He couldn’t conceive what locomotive frenzy was making these people persist in refusing to stop. He tried a few times, only to hear immediate angry exclamations from behind. So he lashed the more furiously at his two sweating nags, and paid no attention whatever to bumps in the road; he hooked into things right and left; he was past caring—demoralized, and almost weeping from thirst, fatigue, and despair.",1,0.045015533,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 ""It would not be useful to us, not possible, not even bearable. And yet we stand again and again just as surprised and seized with trembling before the transformation, when we see it so suddenly completed and so different than we had thought ... We should think: The Lord knew that the fruit was ripe, although it did not seem so to us, and let it fall into his hand »... Stagnant and abiding are not given to us,"" said the priest. It should not be so, my brothers. And it is true that I have often seen his shiny skull shine on the theaters' parquet and his white hands form into discreet applause. The law of transformation is not only the law of death: it is first and foremost the law of life. But he is a distinguished spiritual orator, and he was apparently himself deeply moved by the old words, which in incomprehensible generations have sounded at unexpected deaths and hastily opened graves, and which give such a shaky expression to the trembling of human children under the unknown hand that casts shadows over their world and just as enigmatically sends them day and night and life and death. ""","And it’s true I’ve often seen his pate gleaming in the stalls of theatres, and his white hands forming themselves into discreet applause. But he is a prominent rhetorician of the spirit, and it was clear that he, too, was deeply moved by the old words which through inconceivable generations have rung out on occasions of sudden death and hastily opened graves, and which so vividly express the terror felt by the children of men under the unknown hand that casts its shadow over their world, as enigmatically sending them day as night, and life and death. “Immobility, permanence are not given unto us,” the clergyman was saying. “It would not be good for us, not possible for us, no, nor even bearable. The law of change belongs not only to death: first and foremost it is the law of life. Yet again we stand here, no less amazed, no less shuddering at change, when suddenly we see it accomplished, and in a way so different from anything we had ever expected…. It should not be so, my brethren. We should reflect: The Lord knew the fruit was ripe, although to us it did not seem so, and He has let it fall into His hand….”",1,0.045352582,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 The Great Immortal smiled and said, “You, holy monk, have only arrived this year. I was misled by Guanyin, who informed me ten years ago, that she had received Buddha’s command to go to the East and find a man, who should come to India and fetch the Sacred Scriptures. I therefore expected you would have arrived in two or three years. I have been waiting for you every year, but have never received any news till now.” The Master put his palms together and said, “Many thanks for all your kind thoughts.” Then the four pilgrims, their horse and baggage, were taken into the mansion, and each of the disciples was introduced to the Great Immortal. Tea and refreshments were ordered for them, and a young monk was ordered to prepare a fragrant bath for the pilgrims, before they ascended the Spiritual Mountain. When your work is done, then cleanse yourself, Train your spirit in harmony with nature, Then you may disregard all troubles. By seeking the three refuges, and the eight commandments, you begin a new life. When the demons are conquered, then you reach the land of Buddha. When struggles cease, you can join the happy few, All impurity is washed away And you attain the original perfection and incorruptibility. When the pilgrims had finished their bath, it was evening, and they rested in the Taoist mansion. Next morning the Master changed his clothes, put on his beautiful cassock, and his miter, and took in his hand the silver staff. He then entered the hall, and there made obeisance to the Great Immortal, who said, “Let me show you the way.” Sun said, “I know the way. We must not trouble you.” The Great Immortal replied, “You might know the way through the air, but you have never trodden this way on foot. Your Master has not yet traveled by the clouds, and therefore you should follow the road.” Sun said, “What you say is true, kindly show us the way. My Master desires with all his heart to see Buddha. Have no doubt about that.” The Great Immortal smiled, took the hand of the Master and led him on, burning sandalwood incense. “By this way one does not go outside the mansion gate, but through the central hall and out at the back gate.” The Great Immortal pointed to the Spiritual Mountain, and said, “Your Reverence, half way up the sky you see beautiful light of all colors shining forth in a thousand rays. That is the top of the Spiritual Mountain, where Buddha dwells.” At this sight the Master was going to worship. But Sun laughed and said, “Master, you have not yet arrived at the place of worship. The place to dismount and worship is still some distance off. If you begin to kowtow now, you will have too many obeisances to make.” The Great Immortal then said, “Holy monk and you three disciples, the Great Sage, the Celestial Fairy Chieftain, and the Celestial Chief of Pages have now arrived at the Blessed Land and can see the Spiritual Mountain. I shall now return.” The Master bade him farewell. The Great Sage led the other pilgrims, and they ascended gradually. Not more than two miles distant, they saw a stream of living water rolling down with high waves. Out she came with her subterfuge: “This is my ancestral home. The Master was surprised and said to Sun Wukong, “The Great Immortal must have shown us the wrong way by mistake. This water is so wide and strong, and I see no ferry boats, how can we get across it?” Sun smiled and said, “No, the Great Immortal made no mistake. Do you not see there is a great bridge? We must cross the river by that bridge.” When the Master and his disciples came near it, there was a tablet on the bridge with these words “Cloud Ferry.” It was a single tree across the river. From afar it was like a beam across the sky, Near by, it seemed a rotten broken tree trunk. It was narrow and slippery and dizzy to cross, By this the gods trod over the brilliant clouds.","It was about three miles wide, with no sign of roads anywhere leading to it.",1,0.045352582,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 Beaupré was a hairdresser in his own country, then a soldier in Prussia, then came to Russia pour Etre outchitel, not really understanding the meaning of this word. He was a kind fellow, but windy and dissolute to the extreme. His main weakness was a passion for the fair sex; not infrequently for his tenderness he received shocks, from which he groaned for whole days. Moreover, he was not (as he put it) an enemy of the bottle, i.e. (speaking in Russian) he liked to sip too much. But as wine was served with us only at dinner, and then by a glass, and the teachers usually carried it around, then my Beaupré very soon got used to the Russian tincture, and even began to prefer it to the wines of his fatherland, as unlike more useful for the stomach. We immediately got along well, and although under the contract he was obliged to teach me in French, German and all sciences, he preferred to quickly learn from me how to chat in Russian, and then each of us went about his own business. We lived soul to soul. I certainly wished for no other mentor. But soon fate separated us, and here's the occasion:",I didn't want another mentor.,1,0.045352582,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 20 During this interview, word was spreading that at Constantinople they had just strangled two viziers of the divan, as well as the mufti,117 and impaled several of their friends. This catastrophe made a great and general sensation for several hours. Pangloss, Candide, and Martin, as they returned to their little farm, passed a good old man who was enjoying the cool of the day at his doorstep under a grove of orange trees. Pangloss, who was as inquisitive as he was explanatory, asked the name of the mufti who had been strangled. —I know nothing of it, said the good man, and I have never cared to know the name of a single mufti or vizier. I am completely ignorant of the episode you are discussing. I presume that in general those who meddle in public business sometimes perish miserably, and that they deserve their fate; but I never listen to the news from Constantinople; I am satisfied with sending the fruits of my garden to be sold there. Having spoken these words, he asked the strangers into his house; his two daughters and two sons offered them various sherbets which they had made themselves, Turkish cream flavored with candied citron, orange, lemon, lime, pineapple, pistachio, and mocha coffee uncontaminated by the inferior coffee of Batavia and the East Indies. After which the two daughters of this good Moslem perfumed the beards of Candide, Pangloss, and Martin.","I am satisfied with sending the produce of my garden there.” After saying these words, he invited the strangers to come into his house. His two daughters and two sons presented them with all sorts of sherbet which they had made; as well as caymac heightened with the peels of candied citrons, oranges, lemons, pine-apples, pistachio-nuts, and Mocha coffee untainted with the bad coffee of Batavia or the American islands.",1,0.045692034,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 He had spoken the truth, moreover, when he blurted out in his drunken talk on the stairs that Praskovia Pavlovna, Raskolnikov’s eccentric landlady, would be jealous of Pulcheria Alexandrovna as well as of Avdotia Romanovna on his account. Although Pulcheria Alexandrovna was forty-three, her face still retained traces of her former beauty; she looked much younger than her age, in fact, which is almost always the case with women who retain serenity of spirit, sensitiveness and pure sincere warmth of heart into old age. It was a portrait of Dunechkin's face, only twenty years later, and besides the expression of her lower lip, which did not protrude forward. Her hair was already beginning to turn gray and thin, small radiant wrinkles had long since appeared around her eyes, her cheeks were sunken and dried up from care and grief, and yet this face was beautiful. Let's say in brackets that to preserve all this is the only way not to lose one's beauty even in old age. Pulcheria Alexandrovna was emotional, but not sentimental, timid and yielding, but only to a certain point. She could give way and accept a great deal even of what was contrary to her convictions, but there was a certain barrier fixed by honesty, principle and the deepest convictions which nothing would induce her to cross.","We may add in parenthesis that to preserve all this is the only means of retaining beauty into old age. Her hair had begun to grow gray and thin, there had long been little crow’s foot wrinkles round her eyes, her cheeks were hollow and sunken from anxiety and grief, and yet it was a handsome face. She was Dunia over again, twenty years older, but without the projecting underlip.",1,0.045692034,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 Even on the first day of his, so to speak, “ladydom”, during the sacrament of marriage, when Nikolai Apollonovich held a highly solemn crown over her husband, Sergei Sergeyevich, Sofya Petrovna Likhutina was painfully struck by a slender best man, a handsome man, the color of his unearthly, dark blue, huge eyes, the whiteness of a marble face and the divinity of white-linen hair: after all, those eyes did not look, as often later, because of the dull glasses of pince-nez, and the face was propped up by the golden collar of a brand new uniform (not every student has such a collar). Well, and ... Nikolai Apollonovich often visited the Likhutins at first once every two weeks; further - once a week; two, three, four times a week; finally, frequented daily. Soon Sofya Petrovna noticed, under the mask of daily visits, that the face of Nikolai Apollonovich, god-like, stern, turned into a mask: grimaces, aimless rubbing of sometimes sweaty hands, finally, an unpleasant frog-like expression of a smile, resulting from the game of all possible types that never left his face, obscured that face forever from her. And as soon as Sofya Petrovna noticed this, she realized to her horror that she was in love with that person, with that, and not that. But more, more: from behind the mask, the grimaces, the froglike lips, she unconsciously tried to call forth her irrevocably lost being-in-love: she tormented Ableukhov, showered him with insults; but, concealing it from herself, dogged his footsteps, tried to find out what were his aspirations and tastes, unconsciously followed them in the constant hope of finding in them the authentic, godlike countenance; so she started to put on airs: first meloplastics appeared on the scene, then the cuirassier, Baron Ommau-Ommergau, and finally Varvara Yevgrafovna with the tin box for the collection of ‘fifis’. Angel Peri wanted to be a model wife: and the dreadful thought that, while yet faithful, she had already fallen for someone who was not her husband – this thought completely shattered her. ","Angel Peri wanted to be an exemplary wife: and the terrible thought that, being faithful, she was already carried away by a husband, this thought completely broke her. But further, further: from under the mask, grimaces, frog lips, she unconsciously evoked irretrievably lost love: she tormented Ableukhov, showered him with insults; but, hiding from herself, she prowled in his footsteps, recognized his aspirations and tastes, unconsciously followed them, all hoping to find in them a genuine, god-like face; so she broke down: first the meloplasty appeared on the stage, then the cuirassier Baron Ommau-Ommergau, and finally Varvara Evgrafovna appeared with a tin mug for collecting fifoks.",1,0.0460339,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 Instead, however, after a brief pause that nobody had dared interrupt—except for the clock, which, confirming what the head waiter had said, struck half past six, accompanied, as everybody realized, by all the other clocks in the hotel; so that in one’s ear and in one’s imagination the sound seemed like the twofold twitching of one great disembodied impatience—the head cook said: “No, Karl, no, no! We’re not going to allow ourselves to accept that. Just things also have a special appearance and I have to admit that your business doesn't have that. I can say this and am indeed obliged to say so since I’m the one who was most favorably inclined toward you when I came in. Look, even Therese has fallen silent.” (But she had not fallen silent; she was weeping.)","Just causes have a quite distinctive appearance, whereas yours, I must admit, does not.",1,0.046378206,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 Well, of course, you’re right. You’re laughing again. You don’t believe me? If I leave a particular gentleman all alone: if I don’t arrest him and don’t disturb him, but if he knows at every hour and every minute, or at least if he suspects, that I know everything, all there is to know, and that I’m following him day and night, watching him constantly, and if he feels the weight of my conscious suspicion and fear, well then, he’s absolutely certain to lose his head. But here’s what you need to keep in mind, my dear Rodion Romanovich: the average case, sir, the one for which all these legal forms and procedures are devised, and with which they’re intended to cope and are recorded in books, doesn’t really exist at all, for the simple reason that every case, every crime, for example, as soon as it occurs in reality, immediately becomes a completely special case, sir; in fact, it’s like nothing that’s ever happened before, sir. Very amusing cases of this kind sometimes occur, sir. They say that in Sevastopol, right after the Battle of the Alma,§ clever people were terrified that at any moment the enemy would attack with all its might and would soon capture the town; but when they saw that the enemy preferred to stage a regular siege and was digging the first row of trenches, they say that these same clever people rejoiced and felt reassured, sir: if they were going to mount a regular siege, then the affair would drag on for at least two months! These are special cases, I agree with you; the example I presented is really a special case, sir! You’re right, sir, quite right!","They say that out in Sebastopol, just after the battle of the Alma, the intelligent people were terribly scared that the enemy was about to mount a direct assault, and would take Sebastopol straight off. But as soon as they saw the enemy had opted for a regular siege, and started digging the first lines, well, the intelligent people were delighted and reassured, so they say: the thing would drag on for two months at least, before the town could be reduced by a siege! * You’re laughing again, you still don’t believe me? Well, of course, you’re right there too. Yes, you are! Those are all special cases, I grant you; the example I just gave you is a special case, sir! But my dear Rodion Romanovich, this is what you need to realize: the general case, the very case on which all judicial formalities and regulations are based, the one for which they’ve been worked out and set down in the books—that general case doesn’t exist, for the simple reason that every case, every crime for instance, as soon as it’s actually been committed, immediately becomes an absolutely special case, sometimes a very special one indeed, like nothing that’s ever happened before. You sometimes come across extremely comic cases like that. And if I leave some particular gentleman quite alone, without pulling him in or bothering him, but making sure he knows, or at least suspects, every minute of every day, that I know all about it, every last detail, and that I’m watching him day and night, never sleeping, following his every move, and if he’s aware that he’s under constant suspicion, and terrified of it, then he’s bound to lose his head, he’ll come to me of his own accord, and probably do something more which really does look like twice two, something with the appearance of a mathematical proof.",1,0.047074176,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 “Young man,” he continued, raising his head again, “I can read some sorrow in your face. I saw it when you entered, and that’s why I turned to you right away. In telling you the story of my life, I don’t wish to parade my disgrace before these idlers here, who know it all already; I’m seeking a sensitive, educated man. Do you know that my wife was educated in a provincial school for children of the nobility, and at the award ceremony she was chosen to perform the shawl dance§ in the presence of the governor and other distinguished guests, for which she received a gold medal and a certificate of merit? A medal . . . well, we sold that medal . . . a long time ago . . . hmm . . . the certificate’s still in her trunk, and she recently showed it to our landlady. Even though she has endless quarrels with the landlady, she wanted to show off to someone and tell her about those happy days in the past. I don’t condemn her, I don’t, because these things are preserved in her memory, and all the rest has turned to dust! Yes, yes; she’s a hot-tempered woman, proud and obstinate. She washes the floor herself and has only black bread to eat, but she won’t tolerate any disrespect. That’s why she wouldn’t tolerate Mr. Lebezyatnikov’s rudeness, and when he gave her a beating, she took to her bed more as a result of her feeling than from the actual blows. She was already a widow when I married her, with three children, each smaller than the other. Her first husband was a cavalry officer, and she married him for love and ran away from her parents’ house with him. She loved her husband dearly, but he took to gambling, ended up in court, and soon died. He’d begun beating her toward the end; although she didn’t let him get away with it, about which I have detailed documentary evidence; she weeps to this day when she remembers him and reproaches me. I’m glad, very glad that even in her imagination she can see herself as being happy for a while. . . . After his death she was left with three young children in a distant and dreadful provincial town, where I was also staying at the time; she was living in such hopeless poverty—even though I’ve had many different experiences, I can’t even begin to describe her situation. Her family refused to help her. Besides, she was proud, extremely proud. . . . And then, my dear sir, then, being a widower myself, and having a fourteen-year-old daughter, I proposed to her because I couldn’t bear to see such suffering. You can judge for yourself the degree of her misfortune, that she, an educated and well-brought-up woman from an eminent family, agreed to marry the likes of me! But she did! Weeping and wailing, wringing her hands, she did! Because she had nowhere else to go. Do you understand, do you really understand, dear sir, what it means when a person has nowhere else to go? No! You don’t understand it yet. . . . For one whole year I fulfilled my obligation devotedly and devoutly and never touched the bottle”—he pointed to the bottle—“because I do have feelings. But even then I couldn’t please her, even with that; it was afterward, when I lost my job, which wasn’t my fault, but it happened because of changes in the department that I turned to drink! It’s already been about half a year, after our wanderings and numerous misfortunes, since we finally turned up in this splendid capital with all of its many monuments. And I found a job here. . . . I found one and then I lost it. Do you understand, sir? This time it was my own fault, because I had reached the end of my rope. . . . Now we live in a little corner, at our landlady’s, Amaliya Fedorovna Lippevekhsel, but I don’t know how we manage to live and pay her. Many others live there besides us. . . . It’s Sodom, sir, of the most hideous kind . . . hmm . . . yes. . . . Meanwhile my daughter from my first marriage has grown up; I won’t describe what she had to suffer while growing up, my daughter, from her stepmother. Because although Katerina Ivanovna is filled with kindly feelings, she’s a hot-tempered and irritable lady, and she can snap. . . . Yes, sir! There’s no reason to recall it! As you can well imagine, Sonya received no education. About four years ago, I tried to read some geography and world history with her; but since I myself was weak in those areas and we had no suitable textbooks, and the books we did have . . . hmm . . . well, we don’t even have those books now, all our reading ended then and there. We stopped at Cyrus of Persia.5 Since she has attained years of maturity, she has read other books of novelistic tendency and recently she had read with great interest a book she got through Mr. Lebeziatnikov, Lewes’ Physiology6—do Do you happen to know it, sir? She read it with great interest and even read some passages aloud to us: and that was her entire education. Now I’m turning to you, my dear sir, on my own behalf, with a confidential question of my own: in your opinion, can a poor but honest girl earn a living by honest work? She can’t earn even fifteen kopecks a day, sir, if she’s honest, since she possesses no special skills, and that’s even if she works all the time! Besides, the state councillor Ivan Ivanovich Klopshtok—have you ever heard of him? Not only hasn’t he paid her yet for the half dozen fine cotton shirts she made him, but he even drove her out with insults, stamping his feet and calling her names, claiming that the collars were the wrong size and had been sewn in crooked. Meanwhile the children go hungry. . . . And then Katerina Ivanovna, wringing her hands, paces the room , her face flushed with the red blotches that always accompany that illness: ‘You live here with us,’ she says, ‘like a sponger; you eat and drink and enjoy the warmth, but what’s there to eat and drink when these little ones haven’t seen a crust of bread for three days?’ I was lying there at the time . . . why not say it? I was a little drunk, sir, and I heard my Sonya (she’s very meek and has such a soft voice . . . she’s fair-haired and her face is always so pale and thin), say: ‘Oh, Katerina Ivanovna, must I really go out and do that?’ Meanwhile, Darya Frantsevna, a malevolent woman well known to the police, had reported her to the landlady several times. ‘ So what?’ replied Katerina Ivanovna, with a mocking laugh, ‘What are you saving yourself for? What a treasure!’ But don’t blame her, don’t, dear sir, don’t blame her! She wasn’t in her right mind when she said it; she was agitated, sick, and the children were crying because they hadn’t eaten, and she said it more as an insult than as what she really meant. . . . Because Katerina Ivanovna is the sort of person who, as soon as the children begin crying, even when they’re hungry, begins to beat them right away. And then I saw how Sonechka, around six o’clock, got up, put on a kerchief, her hooded cloak, and left the apartment; she came back at nine. She walked in and went straight up to Katerina Ivanovna and silently put thirty silver rubles down on the table in front of her. She didn’t utter one word as she did, didn’t even look at her, but merely picked up our large green shawl (we have one that we use), covered her head and face completely, and lay down on the bed, facing the wall, but her whole body and her little shoulders were trembling. . . . Meanwhile, sir, I lay there, in the same condition as before. . . . And then I saw, young man, I saw how Katerina Ivanovna, also without saying a word, went up to Sonechka’s bed and knelt there all evening, kissing her feet; she was unable to stand, and then, embracing, they both fell asleep together . . . both of them . . . both of them . . . yes, sir . . . while I . . . I lay there drunk, sir.”","We stopped at the Persian king Cyrus the Great.¶ Then, once she was older, she read some books of romantic content as well as several others, given to her by Mr. Lebezyatnikov. One was Lewes’s Physiology. #",1,0.047074176,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 Now you can say: but what does this story have to do with you and me and the bachelor party? No, best friend, of course, it has nothing to do with it. But it occurred to me to tell it anyway, as a test of my stupidity regarding the human soul. Alas, the human soul! So what do you think about the fact that one morning a few days ago I intervened - Johan Nilsen Nagel intervened - to walk outside Consul Andresen's house up there on the ground and ponder how high or how low it could probably be up to the ceiling in his living room? What do you think? But this is, if I dare say so, the human soul again. No trifle is the irrelevant, everything has its meaning for it…. What impression does it make on you, for example, when you come home late one night from some meeting, some expedition, and you go on your legal errands, and you then suddenly come across a man standing at a corner and watching You, yes, who turn their heads after you as you pass, and just stare at you and say nothing? Now I put on the purchase that the man is wearing black clothes and that you can see nothing of him but his face and his eyes, so what? Alas, a lot is going on in the human soul! …. They come into a company one night, let's say twelve, and the thirteenth - it could be a telegraph operator, a poor legal candidate, a clerk, a steamship captain, in short: a person without any significance - is sitting in a corner and does not participate in the conversation nor does it otherwise make any noise; but this thirteenth person still has its value, not only in and of itself, but also as a factor in the company. Precisely because he has that suit, because he behaves so dumb, because his eyes look so stupid and bland around the other guests and because his role at all is to be so insignificant, he helps to give the company its character . Precisely because he says nothing, he seems negative and creates the faint tone of gloom throughout the living room that makes the other guests just speak so loud and not louder. Am I not right? This person can thus literally become the most powerful man in the company. As I said, I do not understand people, but it still often amuses me to observe what terrible value the trifles can have. I have thus once witnessed a wild stranger poor engineer who absolutely did not open his mouth…. But it's a different story and does not relate to this one, except insofar as they have both passed my brain and left their mark. But to stay in the parable: who knows if not your silence this evening just puts the peculiar tone over my words - my immense intoxication unspoken -, if not this mine that you now have in your face, this half cloud and half innocent expression in Their eyes just stimulate me to speak as I do! It's pretty natural. You listen to what I say - what I say to a drunk man -, you know yourself now and then somehow affected - to use the already used expression affected -, and I feel tempted to go even further and throws another half a dozen words in your face. I cite this only as an example of the value of trifles. Do not overlook the trifles, dear friend! Trifles have an enormous value, for Christ’s Come in!","For God's sake, the trifles have a very value….",1,0.047074176,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 - Ce Touchard entered with a letter in his hand, went up to our large oak table, at which all six of us were cramming something, firmly grabbed my shoulder, lifted me from a chair and ordered me to grab my notebooks. “Your place is not here, but there,” he pointed out to me a tiny room to the left of the hall, where there was a simple table, a wicker chair and an oilcloth sofa - exactly the same as I now have upstairs in the room. I went over with surprise and very shy: I have never been treated rudely. Half an hour later, when Touchard came out of the classroom, I began to exchange glances with my comrades and laugh; Of course, they laughed at me, but I had no idea of that and thought that we were laughing because we were having fun. Just then Tushar swooped in, grabbed me by the tuft and started dragging me. “You dare not sit with noble children, you are of vile origin and are like a lackey!” And he hit me painfully on my plump ruddy cheek. He immediately liked it and hit me a second and a third time. Something had happened which was utterly beyond my comprehension. For a whole hour I sat with my face hidden in my hands crying and crying. I cried violently and was terribly astonished. I don't understand how a man, not of spiteful character, a foreigner like Touchard, who rejoiced at the emancipation of the Russian peasants, could have beaten a foolish child like me. However, I was only surprised, not offended; I haven't gotten offended yet. It seemed to me that I had done something wrong, but when I corrected myself, they would forgive me and we would all suddenly become cheerful again, we would go to play in the yard and live in the best possible way.","I wept bitterly, I was terribly surprised. For a whole hour I sat with my hands over my head and wept and wept. Something happened that I never understood. I don't understand how a person not evil like Tushar, a foreigner, and even so happy about the liberation of the Russian peasants, could beat such a stupid child like me.",1,0.047425874,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 20 Dan Man sobered up for a while, and then speculated: ""Not good! Not good! This disaster is bigger than the sky; if the Jade Emperor is disturbed, his life will be hard to save. Go! Go! Go! "" He ran out of the Tusita Palace, did not go the old way, and escaped through the Xitianmen using a stealth method. That is, press the cloud head and return to the Huaguo Mountain boundary. But seeing that the flag was shining brightly and the halberd was shining, it turned out to be the four strong generals and the seventy-two cave demon kings, practicing martial arts there. The Great Sage shouted loudly, ""You little ones! I'll come too!"" The monsters dropped their equipment and knelt down and said, ""The Great Sage is so relieved! Leave me and wait for a long time, so I won't come to take care of you! “It’s not that long!” said the Great Sage. It won't be long!"" Let's talk and walk, and enter the depths of the cave. The four health workers will clean and rest in peace and kowtow to the end of their prayers. All said: ""The great sage has been in the sky for one hundred years, what is the role of the great sage?"" The great sage smiled and said: ""I remember only half a year, so why do you talk about a hundred years? "" One year below. "" The Great Sage said, ""I am delighted that the Jade Emperors fell in love with each other, and if they were named the 'Great Sage of Equalling Heaven', they built an Equalling Heaven Mansion, and set up two divisions of Jingjing and Ningshen, and set up immortal officials and guards. Seeing that I have nothing to do, let me take care of the Pantao Garden. Recently, because the Queen Mother set up a 'Pantao Conference', she never invited me, so I didn't wait for him to invite me. I went to Yaochi first, and I stole his immortal products and immortal wine. He walked out of the Jade Pond, staggered into Laojun's palace by mistake, and stole five of his gourd golden pills. But I was afraid that the Jade Emperor would be guilty, so I just walked out of the gate of heaven.""","The Great Sage said, It won't be long.",1,0.047425874,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 It passes before my eyes in detail, it glimmers at me as out of a mist; and as it does so, well-known faces appear, which seem actually to be present with me in this room! Most frequently of all, I see my mother. Ah, the dreams that come to me! I remember all the past, its joys and its sorrows. You must have ceased to love me, Makar Alexievitch. I spend many a weary hour because of it. Sometimes, when dusk is falling, I find myself lonely— oh, so lonely! Thedora has gone out somewhere, and I sit here and think, and think, and think.","You don’t love me, Makar Alekseyevich, and I sometimes get very sad on my own. At times, especially when it’s getting dark, I find myself sitting alone as alone can be. Fedora will have gone off somewhere. I sit and think andthink – I remember all the old times, the joyful ones and the sad ones, and they all pass before my eyes, flickering as through a mist. Familiar faces appear (I almost begin to see them for real), and it is Mother whom I see most frequently… And what dreams I have!",1,0.047780063,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 They were well-to-do people of influence and position. They always gave me a cordial and friendly reception. Later on I saw and fully realized that I perhaps was not so passionately in love with her at all, but only recognized the elevation of her mind and character, which I could not indeed have helped doing. We found the people of the town hospitable, rich and fond of entertainments. And then a circumstance happened which was the beginning of it all. I fancied that the young lady looked on me with favor and my heart was aflame at such an idea. After four years of this life, I chanced to be in the town of K. where our regiment was stationed at the time. I met with a cordial reception everywhere, as I was of a lively temperament and was known to be well off, which always goes a long way in the world. I formed an attachment to a beautiful and intelligent young girl of noble and lofty character, the daughter of people much respected.","in truth, I was cherishing that book, without myself being aware of the fact, ‘for an hour, and a day, and a month, and a year’.12 Having served thus for some four years, I found myself at length in the town of K—, where our regiment was at that time stationed. The social life of the town was diverse, crowded and merry, welcoming and opulent, and everywhere I was received well , for I had been born with a cheerful disposition, and was moreover reputed to be not exactly a pauper, which in society counts for more than a little. It was at this juncture that there occurred a certain circumstance that was to serve as the start of it all. I became attached to a certain young and attractive maiden, intelligent and deserving, of radiant and noble character, the daughter of respected parents. These were people of no small consequence: they had wealth, influence and power, and they received me cordially and with affection. And then I suddenly took it into my head that the girl was tenderly disposed towards me – my heart caught fire at such a dream. I later perceived and fully realized that it was possible I had loved her with such passion not at all, but had simply revered her exalted intellect and character, something I could hardly have failed to do.",1,0.04813677,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 20 Besides, Jia Lian had seen everyone since he returned home and returned to his room. When Sister Feng was busy recently, she had no spare time to work. Seeing Jia Lian returning from a long way, she had to take time to receive him. Will the Imperial Kinsman graciously condescend to take a cup of wine with his handmaid ?’ ‘You have had a tiring journey, Imperial Kinsman. Yesterday when the courier gave notice of your arrival, I prepared a humble entertainment to celebrate your homecoming. she said with a smile when, except for the servants, they were at last alone together. Jia Lian smiled, “How dare you not dare, I will bear more and more.” After the maids visit the shrine, they offer tea. Jia Lian then asked goodbye to the family affairs, and thanked Sister Feng for her hard work.","There was no one in the room. The head of the newspaper reported to the Malay newspaper, saying that I will be returning home today, and I have prepared a glass of water and wine to dust the dust. I don’t know if I will give you the light and lead it?”",1,0.04885778,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 In this great screams and cries were heard, accompanied by deep groans and anguished sobs; I turned my head, and saw through the glass walls that a procession of two lines of most beautiful maidens passed through another room, all dressed in mourning, with white turbans on their heads, in the turquoise manner. I want to give you some new ones now, which, since they do not relieve your pain, will not increase it in any way. Know that you have here in your presence, and open your eyes and you will see him, that great gentleman about whom the wise Merlin has prophesied so many things, that Don Quixote de la Mancha, I say, that again and with greater advantages than in past centuries has resurrected in those present the already forgotten cavalry errant, by whose means and favor it could be that we were disenchanted; that great deeds for great men are in store. '' And, turning on his side, he returned to his customary silence, without speaking another word. ""And when it is not so,"" replied the injured Durandarte with a faint and low voice, ""when it is not so, oh cousin! I say, patience and shuffle.""","But for all that, wherever it goes it reveals its sadness and melancholy, and it does not bother to breed delicate and highly prized fish in its waters, but only coarse and insipid ones, quite unlike those in the golden Tagus; and what I am telling you now, cousin, I have told you a thousand times, and since you do not reply I have to assume you do not believe me, or you cannot hear me, and only God knows how sad that makes me feel. And now I am going to give you some news that will maybe not ease your pain, but will at least not add to it in any way. I can reveal to you that here in your presence — and if you will just open your eyes you will be able to see him for yourself — stands the great knight about whom Merlin has made so many prophecies: I refer to Don Quixote de la Mancha, who has newly revived in the present age, and with great improvements over ages past, the forgotten order of knight-errantry, with the assistance of which it could happen that we might be disenchanted, because great exploits are reserved for great men.” “‘And if not,” replied the afflicted Durandarte, in a faint and feeble voice, “if not, cousin: shuffle the pack and deal again, you never know your luck.” ‘And turning on his side he sank back into silence, without uttering another word. ‘ And now there was a great weeping and wailing, with deep groans and anguished sobs; I turned my head and through the crystal walls I saw in another room a procession of two files of lovely damsels, all in mourning, wearing white turbans in the Turkish style.",1,0.04885778,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 “But you were able to run like a horse out in the open, whereas I had to crawl along those damned corridors and courtyards. “You say you’re tired?” he said. But, fortunately, I’m a runner too.” “Then hurry up,” said Delamarche, who had put on his dressing gown and now seized Karl, whose head was still bowed out of weakness, and pushed him forward. “I’m fine now,” said Karl at last, and with effort got to his feet. Now and then he shook Karl to revive him.","It's all right now, said Karl at last, and got up with difficulty. "" Let's go then,"" said Delamarche, who had put his dressing gown back on and was pushing Karl, who was still bowing his head from weakness, in front of him. From time to time he shook Karl to freshen him up. ""You want to be tired?"" he said. ""You could run like a horse in the open air, but I had to sneak through the damned alleys and courtyards here. Luckily I'm a runner too. """,1,0.04922211,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 I swallowed my pride.","Accordingly, I related the whole occurrence to my interlocutors, and concealed not a single detail.",1,0.04922211,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 20 In the corridor on the right, in fact, the door of the box was simply pushed open. Looking farther afield, her eye fell on the small buildings and glass roofs of the galleries in the passage and, beyond these, on the tall houses in the Rue Vivienne, the backs of which rose silent and apparently deserted over against her. There was a succession of terrace roofs close by, and on one of these a photographer had perched a big cagelike construction of blue glass. The sound of carriages in the boulevard and neighboring streets was no longer audible, and the quiet and the wide expanse of sleeping sunlight suggested the country. The paper pasted on walls and ceiling was splashed from top to bottom with spots of soapy water and this smelled so disagreeably of lavender scent turned sour that Nana opened the window and for some moments stayed leaning on the sill, breathing the fresh air and craning forward to catch sight of Mme Bron underneath. That little Mathilde, a drab of a young girl, kept her dressing room in a filthy state. Chipped jugs stood about anyhow; the dressing table was greasy, and there was a chair covered with red stains, which looked as if someone had bled over the straw. A canary, whose cage hung on a shutter, was trilling away piercingly. She could hear her broom wildly at work on the mildewed pantiles of the narrow court which was buried in shadow. Nana was waiting. It was very cheerful. Nana was forgetting herself when it seemed to her that someone had knocked. She turned, she cried:","Nana was waiting. This little Mathilde, a filthy 31 ingenue,32 kept her dressing room very dirty, with a swarm of chipped pots, a greasy toilet, a chair 33 stained red, as if someone had bled on the straw. The paper, stuck to the walls and ceiling, was spattered all the way up with drops of soapy water. It smelled so bad, a lavender scent turned sour, that Nana opened the window. And she remained leaning on her elbows for a minute, breathing, leaning forward to see, below, Madame Bron, whose broom she heard pounding on the green flagstones of the narrow courtyard, buried in the shade. A canary, hung against a shutter, cast piercing rolls. You couldn't hear the carriages on the boulevard or in the neighboring streets, there was a provincial peace, a wide space where the sun slept. Raising her eyes, she saw the small buildings and the gleaming windows of the galleries in the passage, then, beyond, opposite her, the tall houses in the rue Vivienne, whose rear facades stood up, mute and as if empty. Terraces were staged, a photographer had perched on a roof a large blue glass cage.",1,0.049958523,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 0 The German gets excited, shouts, and will be with him. Receipts, perhaps, he gives the peasants: tea, he takes it face to face.","Nothing was to be apprehended from monsters--that he knew full well; but always he stood in awe of something which seemed to be awaiting him at every step; and, if left alone in a dark room, or if fated to catch sight of a corpse, he would tremble with that sense of oppressive foreboding which his infancy had instilled into his very being. Inclined, of a morning, to laugh at his fears, of an evening his countenance paled again.",1,0.05033063,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 40 The superintendent entered and humbly began to ask his excellency to wait only two hours, after which he would give courier for his excellency (what will be, will be). The caretaker obviously lied and only wanted to get extra money from the traveler. “Was it bad or good?” Pierre asked himself. “It’s good for me, it’s bad for another passing by, but it’s inevitable for him, because he has nothing to eat: he said that an officer beat him up for this. And the officer nailed him because he had to go sooner. And I shot at Dolokhov because I considered myself insulted, and Louis XVI was executed because he was considered a criminal, and a year later those who executed him were also killed for something. What's wrong? What Power governs it all?’ There was no answer to any of these questions, except one, and that not a logical answer and not at all a reply to them. What is good? What should we love and what hate? What do we live for? And what am I? What is life, and what is death? This answer was: “If you die, everything will end. You will die and you will know everything, or you will stop asking.” But it was also scary to die.","What well? What should you love, what should you hate? Why live, and what am I? What is life, what is death? What power governs everything?” he asked himself. And there was no answer to any of these questions, except for one, not a logical answer, not at all to these questions.",1,0.05033063,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 ‘I can’t pretend to be a deaf mute anymore,’ he told them. ‘My speech and hearing have returned.’ “There was a deaf mute they wrapped in a bed sheet for two weeks, soaking him in cold water every half hour. Every day they’d give him an enema and pump his stomach. “All the guys in the sickbay kept telling him not to doom himself. But, he persevered, insisting he could now hear and speaks just like the rest of us. Even all the medics thought he’d won his freedom, that he’d be going home. Then, the doctor prescribed something that made him gag. “Don’t barge in here with rheumatism expecting to be one of us,” a fat man informed Švejk seriously. “Rheumatism has about as much currency around here as corns. I’m anemic. I’ve lost half my stomach, five ribs are gone, and nobody believes me. It could have torn him up. That’s when he lost his heart. And when the doctor came in the morning, he reported himself accordingly.""","It's no good coming here with rheumatism, said a stout man to Schweik in solemn tones, ""rheumatism here stands about as much chance as corns. I'm anaemic, half my stomach's missing and I've lost five ribs, but nobody believes me. Why, we actually had a deaf and dumb man here, and every half hour they wrapped him up in sheets soaked in cold water, and every day they gave him a taste of the clyster and pumped his stomach out. Just when all the ambulance men thought he'd done the trick and would get away with it, the doctor prescribed some medicine for him. That fairly doubled him up, and then he gave in. ' No,' he says, 'I can't go on with this deaf and dumb business, rny speech and hearing have been restored to me.' The sick chaps all told him not to do for himself like that, but he said no, he could hear and talk just like the others.",1,0.05033063,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 They are too hard on our stomachs, for Gold’s sake!","You other innocent gentlemen, or that, will be quite innocent there, or that: the great devil, or that, will sing you mass, or that. »",1,0.050705362,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 40 Wukong shouted sharply: ""You old man is completely blind! In the evening, I specially built Tan Mansion to stay overnight. Tangren is my master, and I am his apprentice! "" It's a Tang person, but the evil one is not a Tang person. Let me show it to you!” In a moment Sun changed into his own form, and made for the Taoist priest, who recognised him as the Great Sage, who had thrown Heaven itself into turmoil 500 years before. The priest then fled with the queen, but Sun followed them, and by the aid of the local gods found their hiding place.","Sun picked out various hearts dripping with blood, but none of them were black, and he asked, “Is it this white heart, this yellow heart, this heart, ambitious for riches or fame, or this jealous heart, filled with desire to be first and foremost, or this heart full of desire to be honorable, or to be careful? These I can give you, but there is not a single black heart or desire in the whole lot.” At this the king was bewildered and said, “Stop, we do not want any more of this.” But the substitute Master said, “How blind you have been, Oh king! It is this Taoist priest who has the black heart.",1,0.051462766,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 60 “As soon as my companions could walk, they were sent to Moscow. I fell in share to a boyar who made me his gardener, and who gave me twenty lashes a day. But this lord having been beaten after two years with about thirty boyars for some court hassle, I took advantage of this adventure; I am running away; I crossed the whole of Russia; I was a cabaret servant for a long time in Riga, then in Rostock, in Vismar, in Leipsick, in Cassel, in Utrecht, in Leyden, in The Hague, in Rotterdam: I grew old in misery and in opprobrium, never having only half a behind, always remembering that I was a pope's daughter; I wanted to kill myself a hundred times, but I still loved life. This ridiculous weakness is perhaps one of our most fatal inclinations; because is there anything more stupid than wanting to continually carry a burden that you always want to throw on the ground? to have his being in horror, and to cling to his being? finally to caress the serpent that devours us, until it has eaten our hearts? ","To caress the serpent that devours us, and hug him close to our bosoms till he has gnawed into our hearts?",1,0.051462766,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 ‘I think I saw them here on the window sill not too long ago.’ She stood up from behind the table, went over to the window and immediately brought them back with her. Pyotr Stepanovich didn’t even look at her; he took the scissors and began to busy himself with them. Arina Prokhorovna understood that there was actually a method to this, and was ashamed at her touchiness. The assembled company exchanged silent glances. The lame teacher was observing Verkhovensky angrily and enviously. Shigalyov resumed. ‘ Shigalev began to continue: - Having devoted my energy to studying the issue of the social structure of the future society, which will replace the present, I came to the conclusion that all the creators of social systems, from ancient times to our 187 ... year, were dreamers, storytellers, fools who contradicted themselves who understood absolutely nothing in natural science and in that strange animal called man. (Laughter again). In addition, I announce in advance that my system is not finished. Plato, Rousseau, Fourier, aluminum columns - all this is only suitable for sparrows, and not for human society. – I wanted to present my book to the assembly as abridged as possible; but I see that it will still be necessary to add a lot of verbal explanations, and therefore the whole exposition will require at least ten evenings, according to the number of chapters of my book. I am entangled in my own data, and my conclusion is in direct conflict with the original idea from which I emerge. But since the future social form is needed right now, when we are all finally going to act, so as not to think any more, then I propose my own system for organizing the world. Here she is! he tapped on the notebook. (Laughter is heard.) Proceeding from unlimited freedom, I end with unlimited despotism. I will add, however, that there can be no solution of the social formula except mine.’","Having devoted my energy to the study of the question of the social structure of the society of the future, with which the present one will be replaced, I have come to the conclusion that all creators of social systems, from the most ancient times to our present year of 187–, have been dreamers, spinners of tales and idiots, who have contradicted themselves, understanding absolutely nothing of natural science and of that strange animal that is called man. Plato, Rousseau, Fourier, aluminium columns5 — all that is fit only for sparrows, and not for human society. But inasmuch as the social form of the future is essential precisely now, when we have all finally assembled to act, in order to stop pondering matters any longer, then I propose my own system for structuring the world. Here it is!’ He tapped the notebook. ‘I wanted to present my book to this assembly in as compact a form as possible; but I can see that I will still need to add a good many verbal explanations, and therefore the entire presentation will require at least ten evenings, in accordance with the number of chapters in my book.’ (Laughter was heard.) ‘Besides that, I am announcing in advance that my system is not complete.’ (Again laughter.) ‘I have become entangled in my own data, and my conclusion stands in direct contradiction to the initial idea from which I started.",1,0.051462766,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 40 The Buddha opened his merciful mouth of mercy: “Due to the size, fertility, wealth, and populousness of your country, it is rife with greed, violence, licentiousness, bullying, and trickery. “Please grant this wish, so that I may return to my country as soon as possible.”","Daxian said, ""How can it be! People who cultivate immortals dare to have such a bad heart! I think they forgot to close the door last night and went to bed.",1,0.051462766,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 100 “Citizens, do you picture the future to yourselves? The streets of cities inundated with light, green branches on the thresholds, nations sisters, men just, old men blessing children, the past loving the present, thinkers entirely at liberty, believers on terms of full equality, for religion heaven, God the direct priest, human conscience become an altar, no more hatreds, the fraternity of the workshop and the school, for sole penalty and recompense fame, work for all, right for all, peace over all, no more bloodshed, no more wars, happy mothers! To conquer matter is the first step; to realize the ideal is the second. Reflect on what progress has already accomplished. Formerly, the first human races beheld with terror the hydra pass before their eyes, breathing on the waters, the dragon which vomited flame, the griffin who was the monster of the air, and who flew with the wings of an eagle and the talons of a tiger; fearful beasts which were above man. Man, nevertheless, spread his snares, consecrated by intelligence, and finally conquered these monsters. We have vanquished the hydra, and it is called the locomotive; we are on the point of vanquishing the griffin, we already grasp it, and it is called the balloon. On the day when this Promethean task shall be accomplished, and when man shall have definitely harnessed to his will the triple Chimæra of antiquity, the hydra, the dragon and the griffin, he will be the master of water, fire, and of air, and he will be for the rest of animated creation that which the ancient gods formerly were to him. Courage, and onward! Citizens, whither are we going? To science made government, to the force of things become the sole public force, to the natural law, having in itself its sanction and its penalty and promulgating itself by evidence, to a dawn of truth corresponding to a dawn of day. We are advancing to the union of peoples; we are advancing to the unity of man. No more fictions; no more parasites. The real governed by the true, that is the goal. Civilization will hold its assizes at the summit of Europe, and, later on, at the centre of continents, in a grand parliament of the intelligence. Something similar has already been seen. The Amphictyons had two sessions a year, one at Delphi, place of the gods, the other at Thermopylæ, place of the heroes. Europe will have her amphictyons; the globe will have its amphictyons. France bears this sublime future in her breast. This is the gestation of the nineteenth century. That which Greece sketched out is worthy of being finished by France. Listen to me, you, Feuilly, valiant artisan, man of the people. I revere you. Yes, you clearly behold the future, yes, you are right. You had neither father nor mother, Feuilly; you adopted humanity for your mother and right for your father. You are about to die, that is to say to triumph, here. Citizens, whatever happens to-day, through our defeat as well as through our victory, it is a revolution that we are about to create. As conflagrations light up a whole city, so revolutions illuminate the whole human race. And what is the revolution that we shall cause? I have just told you, the Revolution of the True. From a political point of view, there is but a single principle; the sovereignty of man over himself. This sovereignty of myself over myself is called Liberty. Where two or three of these sovereignties are combined, the state begins. But in that association there is no abdication. Each sovereignty concedes a certain quantity of itself, for the purpose of forming the common right. This quantity is the same for all of us. This identity of concession which each makes to all, is called Equality. Common right is nothing else than the protection of all beaming on the right of each. This protection of all over each is called Fraternity. The point of intersection of all these assembled sovereignties is called society. This intersection being a junction, this point is a knot. Hence what is called the social bond. Some say social contract; which is the same thing, the word contract being etymologically formed with the idea of a bond. Let us come to an understanding about equality; for, if liberty is the summit, equality is the base. Equality, citizens, is not wholly a surface vegetation, a society of great blades of grass and tiny oaks; a proximity of jealousies which render each other null and void; legally speaking, it is all aptitudes possessed of the same opportunity; politically, it is all votes possessed of the same weight; religiously, it is all consciences possessed of the same right. Equality has an organ: gratuitous and obligatory instruction. The right to the alphabet, that is where the beginning must be made. The primary school imposed on all, the secondary school offered to all, that is the law. From an identical school, an identical society will spring. Yes, instruction! light! light! everything comes from light, and to it everything returns. Citizens, the nineteenth century is great, but the twentieth century will be happy. Then, there will be nothing more like the history of old, we shall no longer, as to-day, have to fear a conquest, an invasion, a usurpation, a rivalry of nations, arms in hand, an interruption of civilization depending on a marriage of kings, on a birth in hereditary tyrannies, a partition of peoples by a congress, a dismemberment because of the failure of a dynasty, a combat of two religions meeting face to face, like two bucks in the dark, on the bridge of the infinite; we shall no longer have to fear famine, farming out, prostitution arising from distress, misery from the failure of work and the scaffold and the sword, and battles and the ruffianism of chance in the forest of events. One might almost say: There will be no more events. We shall be happy. The human race will accomplish its law, as the terrestrial globe accomplishes its law; harmony will be re-established between the soul and the star; the soul will gravitate around the truth, as the planet around the light. Friends, the present hour in which I am addressing you, is a gloomy hour; but these are terrible purchases of the future. A revolution is a toll. Oh! the human race will be delivered, raised up, consoled! We affirm it on this barrier. Whence should proceed that cry of love, if not from the heights of sacrifice? Oh my brothers, this is the point of junction, of those who think and of those who suffer; this barricade is not made of paving-stones, nor of joists, nor of bits of iron; it is made of two heaps, a heap of ideas, and a heap of woes. Here misery meets the ideal. The day embraces the night, and says to it: ‘I am about to die, and thou shalt be born again with me.’ From the embrace of all desolations faith leaps forth. Sufferings bring hither their agony and ideas their immortality. This agony and this immortality are about to join and constitute our death. Brothers, he who dies here dies in the radiance of the future, and we are entering a tomb all flooded with the dawn.”","The amphictyons had two sittings a year, one at Delphos the seat of the gods, the other at Thermopylæ, the place of heroes.",1,0.05223086,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 Now thus, you become impatient and bored by this talk of an irrelevant man, and you also have good reason for that…. Listen, as soon as I remember, - yes you should not be furious about it , I really just want to help you in the best way -: You should close your door really well at night! I only wanted to tell you that you mustn’t put too much trust in anyone, especially now that you have some money to look after. Please don’t be afraid, and forget any doubts you may have about me. Goodbye, then! Not that I’ve heard anything that suggests the town is unsafe, but one can never be too careful. Well, you won’t get angry with me because I’ve given you this piece of advice, will you? ... Why do you look so scared? Around two o’clock in the morning, you know, it’s fairly dark around here; I’ve heard suspicious noises even outside my own windows at just that hour. I'm glad I've had your chair wrecked in the end. Goodbye, dear!","They look so anxious at me? Dear ones, do not be afraid and do not suspect me. I would just tell you that especially now that you have money to take care of, you should not believe anyone too well. I have not just heard that it will be unsafe in the city; but one can not be careful enough. At two o'clock you know it's pretty dark around here and just at two o'clock I have heard suspicious noise even outside my own windows. Well, you do not get angry because I have given you this advice? …. Goodbye then!",1,0.052618954,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 20 It was not so long ago that he was dreaming like this while waiting for his son at the inn, but since then a change had happened, relationships that weren’t quite clear had now been defined… so very clearly! He liked to dream – living in the country had developed that propensity in him. He continued to sit there and continued to indulge in the pleasurable, melancholy sport of solitary reverie. For their part the sun’s rays went into the wood and, penetrating the undergrowth, bathed the trunks of the aspens in such a warm light that they looked like the trunks of fir trees; their foliage went almost dark blue while above them rose the azure sky tinged pink by the sunset. thought Nikolay Petrovich, and some favourite lines of poetry were about to spring to his lips when he remembered Arkady and Stoff und Kraft and fell silent. ‘My God, how beautiful it is!’ Swallows were flying high; the wind had dropped; lingering bees lazily, sleepily buzzed on the lilac blooms; a column of moths danced above a single protruding branch.","Piercing the tangled aspens, the sun's beams were bathing the trunks in so brilliant a glow that trunks and beams were one bright mass, and only the foliage on the boughs above formed a dusky blur against the lighter tints of the flame-coloured sky. Overhead bats were whirling; the wind had sunk to rest; a few late-homing bees were buzzing somnolently, sluggishly amid the lilac blossoms; and a pillared swarm of gnats was dancing over a projecting bough. "" O God, how fair!"" was Nikolai's involuntary thought as his lips breathed a favourite couplet. Suddenly he remembered Arkady and Stoff und Kraft; and though he continued to sit where he was, he quoted poetry no more, but surrendered his mind wholly to the play of his lonely, irregular, mournful thoughts. At all times he was a man fond of dreaming; and to this tendency his life in the country had added confirmation. To think of what only a short while ago he had been dreaming as he waited for his son on the post-house verandah! For since that hour a change had come about, and in the vague relations between himself and his son there had dawned a more definite phase. Next, he saw before him his dead wife. Yet he saw her, not as she had appeared to him during the later years of her life—",1,0.053009775,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 ""Personally leading this floor has been cancelled. I heard that it is still distributed by the accounting department. But the bank has closed today, and it will take a three-day rest until the morning of the eighth day."" He sat down and looked at the ground. After drinking a sip of tea, he slowly opened his mouth and said, ""Fortunately, there are no problems in the yamen, and you will have money around the eighth day of the first month... Borrowing money from unrelated relatives and friends is really a trouble. I went to find Jin Yongsheng in the afternoon and talked for a while. He first complimented me for not asking for my salary and not accepting it in person. When he learned that I wanted a short-term loan of fifty yuan, he looked as if I'd stuffed his mouth with salt— every wrinkle on his face crinkled. It doesn't matter if I receive the payment in person in front of my colleagues, and I will be paid immediately.""","He was very lofty. This is what a person should do, until he knew that I wanted to ask him Fifty yuan is accommodating, like I put a lot of salt in his mouth, and wrinkle where there is a wrinkle on his face, saying that he can't afford the rent, and the business is losing money.",1,0.05340333,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 With one wave of his hands, the ropes around Tripitaka snapped. He then blew on Tripitaka, who began to revive. “Thank you, oh, thank you!” Tripitaka cried, kneeling in gratitude. He seized on the Master and dragged him beneath, calling out, “Come, all of you! “Do you have everything you came with?” “My attendants were eaten by the monsters, and I don’t know where my bags and horse have gotten to.” “There they are.” The old man pointed behind Tripitaka.","“Up you get,” responded the old man.",1,0.05379964,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 Suddenly the air is rent with explosions, and five hundred swordsmen block the road. At their head, wielding his Green Dragon sword and mounted upon Red Hare, is Guan Yu. Utter despair sweeps over Cao Cao’s men, and Cao Cao says with a sigh, ‘So this is it. The last battle.’ But his officers say the men are not able to fight. Then Cheng Yu says, ‘Look, Guan Yu is famous for his virtue, noble to the weak and hard on the strong. He understands the difference between duty and anger. He is renowned for his righteousness and honour. You, my lord, showed him such kindness in the past. If you make a personal appeal, we might be saved.’ Cao Cao sees the wisdom of this and, riding slowly forward, head bowed in deference, he addresses Guan Yu. ‘I hope you have been well,’ says Cao Cao, ‘since we last met.’ Bowing, Guan Yu says, ‘I’ve orders from my commander and have waited long for you to come.’ ‘I come before you today,’ says Cao Cao, ‘a beaten man and with a beaten army. I’ve nowhere to go, but I hope, sir, that in honour of our past friendship you’ll think kindly of me.’ ‘It is true that you were kind in the past, but I repaid that by killing the two enemy commanders and relieving the siege at Baima. Today I must not set aside my duty for purely personal reasons.’ But Cao Cao has a clever answer. ‘Have you forgotten that you killed my own officers at the five passes as you escaped? A truly great man considers both righteousness and honour, as our ancient texts tell us. You are well versed in the histories and must recall the action of Yu Gong, the archer, when he released his master Zi Zhuo, for he determined not to use Zi's teaching to kill Zi.” And this touches Guan Yu. He cannot lightly dismiss Cao Cao’s past kindnesses or the fact of the deaths of the officers at the passes. Looking upon the terrible state of Cao Cao and his men, his heart is moved by pity. ‘ Spread out along the road,’ he commands his troop, turning his horse away from Cao Cao as he speaks. Seizing their opportunity, Cao Cao and his officers dash through the gap created and ride off into the distance. Guan Yu turns back and addresses the remainder of Cao Cao’s men. He roars at them, and they fall to the ground. But Guan Yu’s heart is touched once again and when his old friend Zhang Liao rides forward Guan Yu relents and lets every man go free. Cao Cao, defeated, retreats to Huarong","Remember the story of the student Yugong, who was sent to hunt down his erstwhile master, Zizhuo Ruzi. He let him go, unable to use what he had learned from his master to destroy the same man!’",1,0.054198727,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 Likewise the ladies’ dresses displayed an endless profusion of taste and variety; and though the majority of their wearers evinced a tendency to embonpoint, those wearers knew how to call upon art for the concealment of the fact. Thereupon every tchinovnik responds with a smile of double strength, and those who (it may be) have not heard a single word of the Director’s speech smile out of sympathy with the rest, and even the gendarme who is posted at the distant door—a man, perhaps, who has never before compassed a smile, but is more accustomed to dealing out blows to the populace—summons up a kind of grin, even though the grin resembles the grimace of a man who is about to sneeze after inadvertently taking an over-large pinch of snuff. As for the ladies, they clustered around him in a shining bevy that was redolent of every species of perfume—of roses, of spring violets, and of mignonette; so much so that instinctively Chichikov raised his nose to snuff the air. To all and sundry Chichikov responded with a bow, and felt extraordinarily at his ease as he did so. To right and left did he incline his head in the sidelong, yet unconstrained, manner that was his wont and never failed to charm the beholder.","Laugh twice in response to this surrounded by his close officials; laugh heartily those who, however, somewhat badly heard the words he uttered, and, finally, standing far away at the door at the very exit, some policeman, who had never laughed in his whole life and had just shown his fist to the people, and he according to the invariable laws of reflection, he expresses a kind of smile on his face, although this smile is more like someone about to sneeze after strong tobacco. Our hero answered each and every one and felt some kind of extraordinary dexterity: he bowed to the right and left, somewhat to one side, as usual, but completely freely, so that he charmed everyone. The ladies immediately surrounded him with a shining garland and brought with them whole clouds of all sorts of fragrances: one breathed roses, another smelled of spring and violets, the third was completely perfumed with mignonette; Chichikov only turned his nose up and sniffed. Their taste was an abyss in their attire: muslins, satins, muslins were of such pale fashionable colors that even the names could not be cleaned up (the subtlety of taste reached such a degree). Ribbon bows and flower bouquets fluttered here and there over the dresses in the most picturesque mess, although a lot of decent head was working on this mess. The light headdress rested only on one ear, and seemed to say: “Hey, I’ll fly away, it’s only a pity that I won’t take the beauty with me!” The waists were tight-fitting and had the strongest and most pleasing shapes to the eye (it should be noted that in general all the ladies of the city of N. were somewhat full, but they laced up so skillfully and had such pleasant circulation that the thickness could not be noticed). Everything was invented and provided for with extraordinary circumspection; neck, shoulders were open just as much as necessary, and no further; each bared her possessions until she felt, by her own conviction, that they were capable of destroying a person; everything else was tucked away with extraordinary taste: either some light tie made of ribbon, or a scarf lighter than a cake, known as a “kiss”, ethereally hugged the neck, or were released from behind the shoulders, from under the dress, small jagged walls of thin cambric, known as ""modesty"". These “modesty” hid in front and behind that which could no longer cause death to a person, but meanwhile they made one suspect that it was there that the very death was. Long gloves were worn not up to the sleeves, but deliberately left naked the exciting parts of the arms above the elbow, which in many breathed an enviable fullness; some even had their kid gloves burst, prompted to move on—in a word, it seemed as if it was written on everything: no, this is not a province, this is the capital, this is Paris itself! Only in places would suddenly protrude some kind of cap that the earth had not seen, or even some kind of almost peacock feather, contrary to all fashions, according to one's own taste. But without this it is impossible, such is the property of a provincial city: somewhere it will certainly break off.",1,0.054600604,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 Nozdrev was pushed back so hard with his baisers that he was sent flying and all but fell to the floor. Everybody drew away from him and no one listened to him any more. But just the same his words about the buying up of dead souls had been uttered at the top of his voice and had been accompanied with such loud laughter that it had attracted the attention of even those who had been in the farthest corners of the room. This bit of news appeared so strange that all those present stopped still, with some wooden, foolishly questioning air. Chichikov noted that many of the ladies exchanged winks among themselves with malevolent, caustic smiles, and in the expression of certain faces there appeared a something so equivocal that it increased his confusion still more. That Nozdrev was an arrant liar everybody knew, and it wasn’t at all a rare thing to hear him spout downright nonsense; but it’s really hard for a mortal to even understand how this mortal works: no matter how the news goes, if only it is news, he will certainly tell it to another mortal, if only to say: “Look, what a lie disbanded!"" - and another mortal will gladly bow his ear, although after that he himself will say: “Yes, this is a completely vulgar lie, not worth any attention!” - and after that, at the same time, he will go to look for the third mortal, so that, having told him, afterward, together with him, exclaim with noble indignation: “What a vulgar lie!” And this will certainly go around the whole city, and all mortals, no matter how many there are, will surely talk their fill and then admit that it is not worth attention and not worthy to talk about it. ","mortal man .. . really, it is hard to comprehend how mortal man is fashioned: no matter how vulgar a bit of news may be, just as long as it be news he’ll inevitably impart it to some other mortal man, even though it be for no other purpose than to say: “Just see what a lie they’ve spread around!” And the other mortal man will with pleasure incline his ear, although he’ll say in his turn: “Yes, that’s a downright vulgar lie, unworthy of any attention whatsoever!” And right after that he won’t waste an instant setting out in search of a third mortal man, so that he may, after having retailed the story to him, exclaim in chorus with the latter in noble indignation: “What a vulgar lie!” And this story will inevitably make the rounds of the whole town, and all the mortal men, no matter how many of them there may be, will inevitably have their bellyful of talk, and then will admit that the matter doesn’t deserve any attention and isn’t even worth talking about.",1,0.055005286,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 To propose betrayal to an unfortunate man because this unfortunate man is “not worth it” and, most importantly, to offer it to a pregnant woman from this unfortunate woman—this is the mind of these people! I call this terrible theorizing and complete ignorance of life, which comes from immeasurable self-love. And, on top of all that, Lisa was sure that he was very proud of his performance, if only because he knew perfectly well that she was pregnant. Straight from Vasin, with tears still in her eyes, Lisa rushed to Sergei's prison; but there Sergei hurt her even more than Vasin. it would seem that after the story he could be convinced that there was nothing to be jealous of now; but then he went mad. However, everyone is jealous! He made her a terrible scene and insulted her so that she decided to break off all relations with him immediately.","And on top of that, Lisa saw in the clearest way that he was even proud of his act, if only because, for example, he already knew about her pregnancy. With tears of indignation, she hurried to the prince, and he - he even outdid Vasin:",1,0.055412795,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 In the great mirror, Harry stood opposite me. He did not appear to be very flourishing. His appearance was much the same as on that night when he visited the professor and sat through the dance at the Black Eagle. I looked at Harry in the mirror for a long time: I still knew him well, he still looked a little like Harry of fifteen, who had met Rosa on a March Sunday in the rocks and had doffed his confirmation hat to her. Even the moderately talented, when he has run through a few centuries, becomes mature. But that was a long time ago, years, centuries; Harry had grown older, he had learned to dance, had attended magical theatres, he had heard Mozart laugh, he was no longer afraid of dances, of women, of knives. And yet since then he had grown a few hundred years older, had played music and philosophy and had had enough, had drunk Alsatian in the ""Stahlhelm"" and argued about Krishna with honest scholars, had loved Erika and Maria, had become Hermione's friend, had shot down automobiles and with slept with the smooth Chinese woman, had met Goethe and Mozart and had torn various holes in the web of time and the illusionary reality in which he was still caught. And suppose he had lost his pretty chessman again, still he had a fine blade in his pocket. On then, old Harry, old weary loon.","But that was far behind, years, centuries behind. He had grown older. He had learned to dance. He had visited the magic theater. He had heard Mozart laugh. Dancing and women and knives had no more terrors for him. Even those who have average gifts, given a few hundred years, come to maturity. I looked for a long time at Harry in the looking glass. I still knew him well enough, and he still bore a faint resemblance to the boy of fifteen who one Sunday in March had met Rosa on the cliffs and taken off his school cap to her. And yet he had grown a few centuries older since then. He had pursued philosophy and music and had his fill of war and his Elsasser at the Steel Helmet and discussed Krishna with men of honest learning. He had loved Erica and Maria, and had been Hermine's friend, and shot down motorcars, and slept with the sleek Chinese, and encountered Mozart and Goethe, and made sundry holes in the web of time and rents in reality's disguise, though it held him a prisoner still.",1,0.055412795,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 Napoleon, as he walked by at two paces from me, happened to discern my gaze; I was dressed in the clothes of a young nobleman, my family dressed me well. For at the time, for several years on end, people had done nothing but shout about him. Isn’t it?’ ‘ A boy, a child, not understanding the danger, makes his way through the crowd in order to see the glitter, the uniforms, the retinue and, at last, the great man, about whom so much had been trumpeted to him. ‘Isn’t it so? exclaimed the general, his eyes even sparkling with pleasure. The world was filled with that name; I, so to speak, sucked it in with my mother’s milk.","“Isn’t it true? Isn’t it true?” cried the general, his eyes even flashing with pleasure. “A boy, a child, who has no understanding of danger, makes his way through the crowd, to see the splendor, the uniforms, the suite, and, finally, the great man, about whom he has heard so much shouting. Because at that time everyone, for several years in a row, had been shouting about him alone. The world was filled with his name; I had, so to speak, sucked it in with my mother’s milk. Napoleon, passing within two steps of me, happened to catch my glance; I was dressed like a young gentleman, in very good clothes.",1,0.05582314,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 Edith’s laugh sounded particularly exuberant with its high, silvery note and occasional shrill treble, but her gaiety must quite genuinely have come from within, for the skin of her thin cheeks, transparent and delicate as porcelain, took on a warmer and warmer hue; a flush of health, of positive prettiness, lit up her face, and her grey eyes, as a rule somewhat steely and hard, sparkled with childish delight. Of course, they were only silly little stories that I regaled them with: the latest happenings in barracks, the story, for instance, of how, the week before, the Colonel, wishing to send off an express letter in time to catch the mail to Vienna, had sent for an Uhlan, a regular Ruthenian peasant lad, and impressed on him that the letter must go off to Vienna at once, whereupon the dolt had dashed off post-haste to the stables, saddled his horse and galloped off along the high-road to Vienna! It was good to look at her when she forgot her fettered body, for at such moments her movements became more and more relaxed, her gestures more natural; she leaned back at her ease, she laughed, drank, drew Ilona down to her and put her arm round her shoulders. Lord knows I didn’t bore them and myself with a lot of profound and clever stuff, I really only retailed the most humdrum stories, barrack-room yarns and so forth, but to my infinite astonishment, I amused the two girls no end, and they never stopped laughing for a moment. If we hadn’t rung up the next garrison and let them know, the silly ass would actually have done the whole eighteen hours’ ride to Vienna.","Of course I tell only silly little stories, the latest incident to have happened at the barracks, for instance how our colonel wanted to send an express letter off by the fast train to Vienna last week before the post office closed, summoned one of our lancers, a typical rustic Ruthenian lad, and impressed it upon him that the letter must go off to Vienna at once, whereupon the silly fellow runs straight off to the stables, saddles his horse, and gallops down the road to Vienna. If we hadn’t been able to get in touch by telephone with the garrison nearest to ours, that idiot really would have spent eighteen hours riding the whole way. I am not, Heaven knows, taxing myself and my companions with words of great wisdom, just telling everyday anecdotes, tales of the barracks square both old and new, but to my own amazement they amuse the two girls enormously, and both are kept in fits of mirth. Edith’s laughter is particularly high-spirited, with a pretty silvery note that sometimes breaks into a descant, and her amusement must be genuine and spontaneous, for the thin, translucent porcelain skin of her cheeks shows more and more colour, a touch of good health and even beauty lights up her face, and her grey eyes, usually rather sharp and steely, sparkle with childlike delight. It is pleasant to look at her when she forgets her crippled body and her movements are easier, freer, her gestures less constrained, she leans back in a perfectly natural way , she laughs, she drinks, she draws Ilona to her and puts an arm around her shoulders.",1,0.05623634,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 There, among the five or ten people who read me, there is a sensitive soul, who is certainly a little annoyed with the previous chapter, begins to tremble for Eugenia's luck, and maybe... yes, maybe, deep inside call me cynical. I cynical, sensitive soul? By Diana's thigh! This injury deserved to be washed away with blood, if blood washed anything away in this world. No, sensitive soul, I am not cynical , I was a man; my brain was a stage on which plays of all kinds were played, the sacred drama, the austere, the mushy, the disheveled comedy, the disheveled farce, the plays, the buffoonery, a pandemonium, a sensitive soul, a jumble of things and people , where you could see everything from the rose of Smyrna* to the rue in your yard, from Cleopatra's magnificent bed to the corner of the beach where the beggar shivers in his sleep. Thoughts of various castes and features crossed in him. There wasn’t only the atmosphere of water and hummingbird there, there was also that of snail and toad. So, remove your expression, sensitive soul, punish your nerves, clean your glasses - that sometimes is the case with glasses - and let's finish with this flower of the bush.",There was not only the atmosphere of the eagle and the hummingbird there; there was also that of the slug and the frog.,1,0.056652423,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 But Alyosha did not manage to think for a long time: an incident suddenly happened to him on the road, which seemed to be not very important, but strongly struck him. As soon as he passed the square and turned into an alley to go out into Mikhailovskaya Street, parallel to Bolshaya, but separated from it only by a groove (our whole city is riddled with grooves), he saw below in front of the bridge a small group of schoolchildren, all young children, from nine to twelve years, no more. They were returning to their homes from class, with their little satchels on between both shoulders, some with small leather bags on straps over only one, some in jackets, others in wretched little coats and yet others in the sort of high boots with folded tops in which little boys whose wealthy fathers spoil them like to show off. Alyosha was never able to walk past young boys in indifference; that had been the case with him in Moscow, too, and although he was fondest of children aged three or so, schoolboys of around ten or eleven also greatly appealed to him. The whole group was having a lively discussion about something, and was evidently in council. And therefore, no matter how worried he was now, he suddenly wanted to turn to them and enter into a conversation. Approaching, he peered into their ruddy, lively faces and suddenly saw that all the boys had a stone in their hands, while others had two. Behind the groove, about thirty paces from the group, stood by the fence and another boy, also a schoolboy, also with a bag on his side, no more than ten years old, or even less, pale, sickly, and with sparkling black eyes. He carefully and inquisitively observed a group of six schoolchildren, apparently his own comrades, who had just left school with him, but with whom he was apparently at enmity. Alyosha approached and, turning to one curly, blond, ruddy boy in a black jacket, noticed, looking at him:","They went home from the classroom with their little ranches over their shoulders, others with leather bags on the straps over their shoulders, some in jackets, others in coats, and others in high boots with folds on the tops, in which little children especially like to flaunt. wealthy fathers. The whole group was talking animatedly about something, apparently conferring. Alyosha could never indifferently walk past the children, in Moscow this also happened to him, and although he loved three-year-old children or so most of all, he also liked schoolchildren of ten or eleven years old.",1,0.056652423,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 - I don’t ask you for coffee, sir, not a place; but for five minutes why not sit with a friend, for entertainment, - Porfiry poured incessantly, - and you know, sir, all these official duties ... yes, you, father, do not be offended that I keep walking back and forth; excuse me, father, I'm really afraid to offend you; and exercise is simply necessary for me, sir. I’m still sitting and I’m so glad to walk around for about five minutes ... hemorrhoids, sir ... I’m going to be treated with gymnastics; there, they say, civilians, real civilians, and even secret advisers willingly jump over the rope; it’s like, science, in our century, sir ... so, sir ... And about these local duties, interrogations and all this formalism ... here you, father, have now deigned to mention interrogations yourself, sir ... so, you know, really, Father Rodion Romanovich, sometimes these interrogations of the interrogator himself are more confusing than the one being interrogated ... You, father, have now deigned to note this with perfect justice and wit. (Raskolnikov did not notice anything of the sort.) You'll get confused, sir! Right, you're confused! and everything is one and the same, everything is one and the same, like a drum! The reform is underway, and we will at least be renamed in the name, heh! heh! heh! As for our legal methods, as one wittily deigned to put it, I completely agree with you, sir. Well, who, tell me, of all the defendants, even of the most meager peasant, does not know that, for example, they will first begin to lull him with extraneous questions (as your happy expression), and then suddenly they will be taken aback in the very crown, with an ax , heh! heh! heh! in the very crown, according to your happy likeness! heh! heh! so you really thought that I wanted you with an apartment ... What an ironic fellow you are! Well, I won't! Oh yes, by the way, one word calls another, one thought evokes another - so you also deigned to mention the form just now, about, you know, interrogation, sir ... But what about the form! The form, you know, in many cases, is nonsense. Sometimes you just talk in a friendly way, but it’s more profitable. The form will never go away, let me reassure you about that, sir; Yes, what is, in essence, the form, I ask you? It is impossible to hamper the investigator at every step with the uniform. After all, the case of an investigator is, so to speak, free art, in its own way, sir, or something like that ... heh! heh! heh!..",heh! heh! You are ironic.,1,0.057493284,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 “Remember, I asked you what the word ‘father’ meant, and I said that it was a word with great meaning to it. It is impossible to create love out of nothing, for God alone can create something out of nothing. ‘Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger,’ the Apostle wrote from the depth of his heart, filled with ardent love. What entitles me, any more than anyone else, to preach to fathers? Love for a father that the father has not deserved is inconceivable and absurd. And it is not just for the sake of my client that I quote these sacred words, but rather as a reminder to all fathers. But I believe we must use words honestly and call things by their proper names. A man like the murdered Fyodor Karamazov is not worthy to be called a father. So let us not allow this human soul to be lost, gentlemen of the jury! You must not believe her, for my client is not a ‘monster,’ as she called him. He who accepted the cross out of His love for man said: ‘I am the good shepherd and I lay down my life for the sheep so that no one of them might be lost.’","Oh, do not believe her! No, my client is not a monster, as she called him! "" The Lover of Mankind on the eve of His Crucifixion said: 'I am the Good Shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep, so that not one of them might be lost.' Let not a man's soul be lost through us! "" I asked just now what does 'father' mean, and exclaimed that it was a great word, a precious name. But one must use words honestly, gentlemen, and I venture to call things by their right names: such a father as old Karamazov cannot be called a father and does not deserve to be. Filial love for an unworthy father is an absurdity, an impossibility. Love cannot be created from nothing: only God can create something from nothing. "" 'Fathers, provoke not your children to wrath,' the apostle writes, from a heart glowing with love. It's not for the sake of my client that I quote these sacred words, I mention them for all fathers. Who has authorized me to preach to fathers? No one.",1,0.057918087,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 And I also used to think I’ll achieve a great deal , I won’t die, not me! I have a task ahead and I’m a giant! And now the giant’s whole task is how to die a decent death, although no one else cares about that… Look at this hideous sight: a worm that’s half crushed but still wriggling. ‘You are so generous!’ he whispered. No matter: I’m not going to start wagging my tail.’ ‘Oh, so near and so young, fresh, pure… in this foul room!… Well, goodbye! Live a long life – that’s best of all – and take advantage of it while there’s time. ","O woman of kind heart! he whispered. "" And to think that you are beside me once more! To think that you, so pure and fresh and young, are in this sorry room! Well, good-bye, and may you live long, and enjoy your time while you may. Of all things in this world long life is the most desirable: yet you can see for yourself what an ugly spectacle I, a half-crushed, but still wriggling, worm, am now become. There was a time when I used to say: 'I will do many things in life, and refuse to die before I have completed those tasks, for I am a giant': but now I have indeed a giant's task in hand—the task of dying as though death were nothing to me.... No matter. I am not going to put my tail between my legs.""",1,0.05921025,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 60 It was not many days ago that everything [39] had been so quiet. Kristin felt as if she hadn’t taken a good look at them for a long time. How splendid the buildings were with the pillars adorning their loft galleries and the elaborate carvings. ",I had not thought that she could bring my inner self into revolt. And I had not had but the weakest desire to know her ways and events.,1,0.059646945,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 ‘This way, your Excellency … Where are you going? … This way, please …’ said a trembling, frightened voice behind him. Count Rastopchin was unable to reply and, turning obediently, went in the direction indicated. At the back entrance stood his calèche. The distant roar of the yelling crowd was audible even there. He hastily took his seat and told the coachman to drive him to his country house in Sokolniki. When they reached the Myasnitsky Street and could no longer hear the shouts of the mob, the count began to repent. He remembered with dissatisfaction the agitation and fear he had betrayed before his subordinates. ‘ La populace est terrible, elle est hideuse,’ he said to himself in French. ‘ Ils sont comme les loups qu’on ne peut apaiser qu’avec de la chair. ’ 1 ‘Count! One God is above us both!’—Vereshchagin ’s words suddenly recurred to him, and a disagreeable shiver ran down his back. But this was only a momentary feeling and Count Rastopchin smiled disdainfully at himself. ‘ J’avais d’autres devoirs,’ thought he. ‘ - and he began to think of those general duties that he had in relation to his family, his (entrusted to him) but about himself as a commander in chief, a representative of authority and an authorized representative of the king. Il fallait apaiser le peuple. capital and about himself - not as Fyodor Vasilyevich Rostopchin (he believed that Fyodor Vasilyevich Rostopchin sacrificed himself for the bien publique [public good]), Bien d'autres victimes ont peri et perissent pour le bien publique“, [I had other duties. The people had to be satisfied. Many other victims have died and are dying for the public good. ] été tout autrement tracée,3 but it was my duty to safeguard my life and dignity as Commander-in-Chief.’","Il fallait apaiser le peuple. Bien d’autres victimes ont péri et périssent pour le bien publique’2—and he began thinking of his social duties to his family and to the city entrusted to him, and of himself—not himself as Fyodor Vasilievich Rastopchin (he fancied that Fyodor Vasilievich Rastopchin was sacrificing himself pour le bien publique) but himself as Governor, the representative of authority and of the Tsar. ‘Had I been simply Fyodor Vasilievich ma ligne de conduite aurait",1,0.059646945,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 I thought that my situation vis-à-vis Albertine would be improved. They were the daughters of a relative of Madame de Villeparisis who also knew Madame de Luxembourg. Monsieur and Madame d'Ambresac, who had a little villa at Balbec, and were extremely rich, led the simplest of lives, were always dressed, the husband in the same jacket, the wife in a dark dress. Both of them made immense bows to my grandmother, which led to nothing. The girls, very pretty, dressed with more elegance, but an elegance of the city and not of the beach. In their long dresses, under their big hats, they seemed to belong to a different humanity from Albertine. She knew very well who they were. “Oh! you know the little ones from Ambresac. Well, you know some very classy people. Besides, they are very simple, she added as if it were contradictory. They are very nice but so well brought up that we do not let them go to the Casino, especially because of us, because we are too bad. There may be something in that, of course. Well, it all depends on what you like. They're just little white rabbits, really. They attract you, do they? If you like little white geese, you are served to perfection. It seems that they can please since there is already one engaged to the Marquis de Saint-Loup. And it hurts the youngest who was in love with this young man. Me, just their way of talking lip service annoys me. And then they dress in a ridiculous way. They go golfing in silk robes. At their age they are dressed more pretentiously than older women who know how to dress. Take Madame Elstir, here is an elegant woman. I replied that she seemed to me to be dressed very simply. Albertine began to laugh. “She is dressed very simply, indeed, but she dresses beautifully and to achieve what you find simplicity, she spends a lot of money. Madame Elstir's dresses passed unnoticed in the eyes of someone who had no sure and sober taste for things of the toilet. He was missing me. Elstir possessed it to the highest degree, so Albertine tells me. I had no idea either that the elegant but simple things that filled his studio were marvels desired by him, which he had followed from sale to sale, knowing all their history, until the day he had earned enough money to own them. But thereupon Albertine, as ignorant as I, could teach me nothing. Whereas for the toilets, informed by a flirtatious instinct and perhaps by a regret of a poor young girl who tastes with more disinterestedness, delicacy, at the rich, what she will not be able to adorn herself with, she knew how to talk to me very well about the refinements of Elstir, so difficult that he found any woman badly dressed, and that putting everyone in a proportion, in a nuance, he had parasols, hats made for his wife at crazy prices , coats which he had taught Albertine to find charming and which a tasteless person would not have noticed any more than I had. Besides, Albertine, who had done a little painting without having, moreover, she admitted, any ""disposition"", felt a great admiration for Elstir, and thanks to what he had told and shown her, knew paintings in a way that contrasted sharply with his enthusiasm for Cavalleria Rusticana. It is that in reality, although it is hardly seen yet, she was very intelligent and in the things she said, the stupidity was not hers, but that of her environment and her age. Elstir had had a happy but partial influence on her. All the forms of intelligence had not arrived in Albertine at the same degree of development. The taste for painting had almost caught up with that for dressing and all forms of elegance, but had not been followed by the taste for music, which lagged far behind.","Do you like them? Lady, it depends. It's quite the little white geese. Maybe it has its charm.",1,0.060975183,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 “I know that you would all like a Bug, I heard everything, sir,” Kolya smiled mysteriously. “Listen, Karamazov, I’ll explain the whole matter to you, the main thing is that I came here, for this I called you to explain the whole passage to you before we enter,” he began briskly. - You see, Karamazov, in the spring Ilyusha enters the preparatory class. Well, we know, our preparatory class: boys, kids. Ilya was immediately bullied. I am two classes higher and, of course, I look from afar, from the side. I see the boy is small, weak, but does not obey, he even fights with them, proud, his little eyes are on fire. I love those. And they are worse than him. The main thing is that he then had a nasty dress, his pants climb up, and they ask for porridge for boots. They are his and for it. They humiliate. No, I really don't like that , I immediately interceded and asked an extrafefer. I beat them, and they adore me , do you know that, Karamazov? - Kolya boasted expansively. - And in general I love kids. I still have two chicks on my neck at home, even today I was detained. Thus, they stopped beating Ilya, and I took him under my protection. I see, a proud boy, I'm telling you that I'm proud, but I ended up giving myself up to me slavishly, fulfilling my slightest orders, listening to me as God, trying to imitate me. In the intervals between classes, now to me, and we go with him. Sundays too. In our gymnasium, they laugh when the elder gets on such a leg with the little one, but this is a prejudice. This is my fantasy, and that's it, isn't it? I teach him, develop - why , tell me, I cannot develop him, if I like him? After all, you, Karamazov, have come to terms with all these chicks, so you want to act on the younger generation, develop, be useful? And I confess that this trait in your character, which I learned firsthand, interested me most of all. However, to the point: I note that some kind of sensitivity, sentimentality develops in the boy, and I, you know, have been a decisive enemy of all calf tenderness since my very birth. And besides, there are contradictions: proud, but slavishly betrayed to me, slavishly betrayed, and suddenly his little eyes sparkle and does not even want to agree with me, he argues, he climbs the wall. I sometimes carried out different ideas: he not only disagrees with the ideas, but simply see that he is personally rebelling against me, because I respond to his tenderness with composure. And so, in order to withstand him, the more tender he is, the more calm I become , I do this on purpose, this is my conviction. I meant to educate character, align, create a person ... well, there ... you, of course, understand me perfectly. Suddenly I notice that he is a day, two, three, embarrassed, grieving, but not about tenderness, but about something else, the strongest, the highest. Think what a tragedy? I step on him and find out the thing: somehow he got along with the footman of your late father (who was then still alive) Smerdyakov, and he, you fool, teach him a stupid joke, that is, a brutal joke, a vile joke - to take a piece of bread , crumb, stick a pin into it and throw it to some yard dog, one of those who, out of hunger, swallow a piece without chewing, and see what happens. So they made such a piece and threw it to this very shaggy Beetle, about whom there is such a story now, to one yard dog from such a yard where she was simply not fed, and she barks in the wind all day. (Do you love this stupid barking, Karamazov? I can't stand it.) So she rushed, swallowed and screamed, turned and started to run, runs and everything squeals, and disappeared - this is how Ilyusha himself described to me. He confesses to me, and he cries and cries, hugs me, shakes: "" He runs and screams, runs and screams"" - only this he repeats, this picture amazed him. Well, I see, remorse. I took it seriously. Most importantly, I wanted to whip him for the past, so, I confess, I cheated here, pretended that in such indignation, which, perhaps, I did not have at all: “You, I say, did a low deed , you are a scoundrel, I, of course, will not divulge, but for now I am breaking off relations with you. I shall give this matter some thought and inform you through Smurov (the boy I was with when I arrived just now and who has always been devoted to me) whether I shall continue relations with you in the future or whether I shall shun you for ever as a scoundrel.” I confess that even at the time I felt I might have been too severe with him, but there was nothing for it, as such was my intention. That had a terrible effect on him. A day later I send Smurov to him and convey through him that I no longer “speak to him,” that is, this is what we call it when two comrades break off relations. The secret is that I wanted to keep him on the ferbant for only a few days, and there, seeing my repentance, I again stretch out my hand to him. This was my firm intention. But what do you think: he listened to Smurov, and suddenly his eyes sparkled. ""Tell Krasotkin from me,"" he shouted, that I will now throw pieces with pins to all the dogs, everyone, everyone! "" - “And, I think, a free smell has started, it must be smoked,” - and began to show him complete contempt, at every meeting I turn away or ironically smile. And suddenly this incident happens with his father, remember, a washcloth? Understand that he was already prepared in this way to a terrible annoyance. The boys, seeing that I left him, pounced on him, tease: ""Washcloth, washcloth. "" It was then that their battles began, which I am terribly sorry about, because it seems that he was very painfully beaten then. Once he throws himself at everyone in the yard, when they left the classrooms, and I just stand ten paces away and look at him. And I swear, I don’t remember that I laughed then, on the contrary, then I felt very, very sorry for him, and another moment, and I would have rushed to defend him. But he suddenly met my gaze: I don’t know what it seemed to him, but he grabbed his penknife, rushed at me and poked it in my thigh, right here, at my right foot. I did not move, I confess I am sometimes brave, Karamazov , I just looked with contempt, as if saying with a glance: ""Would you like, they say, more, for all my friendship, so I'm at your service."" But he didn’t stab another time, he couldn’t stand it, he got scared himself, dropped the knife, cried aloud and started to run. Of course, I didn’t fiscal and ordered everyone to be silent so that it wouldn’t come to the authorities, I even told my mother only when everything healed, and the wound was empty, a scratch. Then I hear that on the same day he threw stones and bit your finger - but, you know, in what condition he was! Well, what can I do , I did a stupid thing: when he fell ill, I did not go to forgive him, that is, to make up, now I repent. But then I had special goals. Well, that's the whole story ... only it seems I did something stupid ...","I'll think it over and let you know through Smurov (this very boy who has now come with me and who has always been devoted to me) : will I continue my relationship with you in the future, or will I leave you forever, like a scoundrel. "" This struck him terribly. I confess that at the same time I felt that, perhaps, I was too harsh, but what to do, that was my then thought.",1,0.06233104,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 He also knows that most evenings ’s Li Jue and Guo Si dine together to discuss matters, often drinking and talking late into the evening. Guo Si wife is very jealous, he decides to exploit this.","Lady Qiong was surprised but said, “I have wondered why he has been sleeping away from home lately, but I did not think there was anything shameful connected with it. I should never have known if you had not spoken. I must put a stop to it.” By and by, when Lady Kai took her leave; Lady Qiong thanked her warmly for the information she had given. Some days passed, and Guo Si was going over to the dwelling of Li Jue to a dinner. Lady Qiong did not wish him to go and she said, “This Li Jue is very deep, and one cannot fathom his designs.",1,0.06233104,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 80 As a result of this calumny or slander on the part of the porter, they thought themselves justified in doing a thousand wrongs and injuries to poor Friar Angel, who seemed to lose his wits. Then they called in a doctor whom they bribed and who certified that the priest was mad and needed to return to his home for a rest. If it had been simply a question of sending Friar Angel away or shutting him up the matter would have been quickly dealt with, but he was the darling of the female church-goers amongst whom there were a number of important ladies who had to be handled carefully. The ladies heard their spiritual director spoken of with hypocritical commiseration: ‘Alas! The poor father… It’s a terrible shame… He was the leading light of our community.’ ‘What’s happened to him, then?’ The answer to this question was a deep sigh, accompanied by an upward movement of the eyes towards heaven. Further questions were met by a downward movement of the head and total silence. Occasionally they would add to this mummery: ‘ Oh God! This mortal coil… He still has his surprising moments… flashes of genius… He may get over it, but there's not much hope... What a loss for the Faith.’ Meanwhile they stepped up their nastiness. They tried everything to bring Friar Angel to the state they said he’d reached. And they would have succeeded had Friar Jean not taken pity on him. What more can I tell you? One evening when we were all asleep we heard a knocking at the door. We got up and opened to Friar Angel and my brother who were in disguise. They stayed in our house all the next day and at dawn the day after that they went off. They went away with their hands full of provisions and as he embraced me Jean’s parting words were: ‘I married off your sisters and if I had stayed in the monastery for two years longer, with the position I used to have, you would have been one of the richest farmers of the district, but everything’s changed and that’s all I can do for you. Farewell, Jacques, if ever we meet good fortune, Friar Angel and I, you will know about it…’ Then he left in my hand the five louis I’ve told you about, with five more for the last of the girls of the village, whom he had married off and who had just given birth to a bouncing baby boy who looked as much like my brother Jean as two peas in a pod.",It will come back to him perhaps… But there’s little hope…,1,0.0627892,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 ""You seem surprised to see me, Mr. Castorp,"" he had spoken with baritonal gentleness, hesitantly, somewhat pretentiously and with an exotic palate-r, which he {291}but did not roll, but only with a single tap of the tongue generated just behind the upper front teeth; ""But I'm only fulfilling a pleasant duty if I see to it that things are all right with you. Your relationship with us has entered a new phase, overnight the guest has become a comrade...' (The word 'comrade' had frightened Hans Castorp a little.) 'Who would have thought it!' “Who would have thought it on that evening when I had the honour of making your acquaintance, and you replied to my mistaken supposition—at that time mistaken—with the explanation that you were perfectly healthy? I believe I expressed some doubt, but I assure you I did not mean it in that sense. I don't want to pretend to be more perspicacious than I am, I wasn't thinking of a wet spot at the time , I meant it differently, more generally, more philosophically, I voiced my doubts that 'man' and 'perfect health' were rhyming words at all. And even today, even after the course of your investigation, I, as I happen to be and in contrast to my dear boss, can't use this wet spot there"" - and he had lightly touched Hans Castorp's shoulder with his fingertip - ""not as consider to be in the foreground of interest. For me it is a secondary phenomenon... The organic is always secondary...""","Krokowski joked comradely… “Who would have thought it that night when I was first allowed to greet you and you countered my erroneous notion – it was erroneous at the time – by explaining that you were perfectly healthy. I think I expressed something of a doubt at the time, but, I assure you, I didn't mean it!",1,0.0627892,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 60 His handshake only came when something had moved him, or moved us both. He gave me none of those particularly strong handshakes that commit. One wonders when going into oneself: What did it really mean.","But now ’twas for Kristin to show the young girl what she had in her chests, and Jofrid praised all Kristin’s goodly handiwork so understandingly that the elder woman gave her one thing and another — two linen sheets with knotted silk fringes, a blue-hemmed towel, a twilled coverlid, and last of all the long tapestry with the hawking picture on it: “ Loth would I be that these things should leave this manor — and by God’s and Our Lady’s help this house will some day be yours.”",1,0.063714996,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 But no—I cannot say that I had NEVER foreseen it, for my mind DID get an inkling of what was coming, through my seeing something very similar to it in a dream. I will tell you the whole story—simply, and as God may put it into my heart. Today I went to the office as usual, and, upon arrival, sat down to write. You must know that I had been engaged on the same sort of work yesterday, and that, while executing it, I had been approached by Timothei Ivanovitch with an urgent request for a particular document. “Makar Alexievitch,” he had said, “pray copy this out for me. Copy it as quickly and as carefully as you can, for it will require to be signed today.” Also let me tell you, dearest, that yesterday I had not been feeling myself, nor able to look at anything. I had been troubled with grave depression—my breast had felt chilled, and my head clouded. All the while I had been thinking of you, my darling. Well, I set to work upon the copying, and executed it cleanly and well, except for the fact that, whether the devil confused my mind, or a mysterious fate so ordained, or the occurrence was simply bound to happen, I left out a whole line of the document, and thus made nonsense of it! The work had been given me too late for signature last night, so it went before his Excellency this morning. I reached the office at my usual hour, and sat down beside Emelia Ivanovitch. Here I may remark that for a long time past I have been feeling twice as shy and diffident as I used to do; I have been finding it impossible to look people in the face. Let only a chair creak, and I become more dead than alive. Today, therefore, I crept humbly to my seat and sat down in such a crouching posture that Efim Akimovitch (the most touchy man in the world) said to me sotto voce: “What on earth makes you sit like that, Makar Alexievitch?” Then he pulled such a grimace that everyone near us rocked with laughter at my expense. I stopped my ears, frowned, and sat without moving, for I found this the best method of putting a stop to such merriment. All at once I heard a bustle and a commotion and the sound of someone running towards us. Did my ears deceive me? It was I who was being summoned in peremptory tones! My heart started to tremble within me, though I could not say why. I only know that never in my life before had it trembled as it did then. Still I clung to my chair—and at that moment was hardly myself at all. The voices were coming nearer and nearer, until they were shouting in my ear: “Dievushkin! Dievushkin! Where is Dievushkin?” Then at length I raised my eyes, and saw before me Evstafi Ivanovitch. He said to me: “Makar Alexievitch, go at once to his Excellency. You have made a mistake in a document.” That was all, but it was enough, was it not? I felt dead and cold as ice— I felt absolutely deprived of the power of sensation; but, I rose from my seat and went whither I had been bidden. Through one room, through two rooms, through three rooms I passed, until I was conducted into his Excellency’s cabinet itself. Of my thoughts at that moment I can give no exact account. I merely saw his Excellency standing before me, with a knot of people around him. I have an idea that I did not salute him—that I forgot to do so. Indeed, so panic-stricken was I, that my teeth were chattering and my knees knocking together. In the first place, I was greatly ashamed of my appearance (a glance into a mirror on the right had frightened me with the reflection of myself that it presented), and, in the second place, I had always been accustomed to comport myself as though no such person as I existed. Probably his Excellency had never before known that I was even alive. Of course, he might have heard, in passing, that there was a man named Dievushkin in his department; but never for a moment had he had any intercourse with me.",He was dumbfounded so that his lips were shaking and his legs were shaking.,1,0.063714996,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 But it was said that Sima Wang, the general of the Changcheng Town, was the elder brother of Sima Zhao. There is a lot of food and grass in the city, but there are few people and horses. When I heard that the soldiers of Shu were coming, I was in a hurry with Wang Zhen and Li Peng, two generals, to lead the troops twenty miles away from the city to the village. The next day, the soldiers of Shu came, and Wang Yin's second generals came into battle. Jiang Wei went out and said with hope: ""Now Sima Zhao has moved his master to the army, it must have the intention of Li Jue and Guo Si. I have been ordered by the court to come here to ask the guilt, and you should surrender early. If you are still ignorant , the whole family will be punished!"" Wang answered loudly: ""You are rude, and you have committed crimes in the country. If you don't leave early, you will not be able to return!"" Before the words were finished, Wang Zhen came out with a spear behind Wang Zhen, and Fu Yu in the Shu formation came out. welcome. When the battle was not tenable, and there was a flaw in the sale, Wang Zhen stabbed with a spear. Fu Yan flashed past, caught him alive on the horse, and returned to his main formation. Fu Qian went but slowly, thus luring Li Peng into rash pursuit. When Li Peng was near enough, Fu Qian dashed his prisoner with all his strength to the earth, took a firm grip on his four-edged brand, and smote Li Peng full in the face. The blow knocked out an eye, and Li Peng fell dead. Seeing this, his colleague, Li Peng whirled up his sword and went pounding down toward the captor. Wang Zhen had been already killed by the Shu troops as he lay on the ground. Both generals being dead, the troops of Wei fled into the city and barred the gates. Wei ordered: ""The sergeant will take a night's rest tonight to keep his spirits up. In the future, he must enter the city. "" The next day, when it was clear, the soldiers of Shu rushed to the city and rushed to the city. Hit the city with a rocket fire. The thatched huts on the city were set on fire, and the Wei soldiers were in chaos. Wei also sent people to fill the city with dry wood, and set fire to the sky. The city was about to fall, and the Wei soldiers were weeping bitterly in the city, and the voices of the four wilds were heard.","Li Peng was furious and came to the rescue. Yi deliberately slowed down, waited for Li Peng to approach, and tried to throw it to the ground, secretly holding the iron slip in his hand; when Peng caught up with the knife and wanted to slash, Fu Ying stole back and looked back at Li Peng with only a brief face at the door, beating his eyes hard. burst out, died under the horse. Wang Zhen was stabbed to death by the Shu army. Jiang Wei drove his troops forward. Sima Wang abandoned the village and entered the city, but did not go out behind closed doors.",1,0.064653486,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 she spoke seriously. “Remember, in the park, when you said that life was on fire in you, assured me that I was the goal of your life, your ideal, took my hand and said that it was yours, do you remember how I gave you consent? — Ilya!","Good-bye!"" Rising, he endeavoured to look at himself in a dust-coated mirror; after which he departed--though returning once more to show his friend the newest thing in Parisian gloves and an Easter card which Prince Tiumenev had recently sent him. """,1,0.065604836,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 40 Everything there is broken, anonymous and impertinent. Or else I’ll be interned in a poorhouse, content with my utter failure, mingling with the riff-raff who believed they were geniuses when in fact they were just beggars with dreams, mixing with the anonymous mass of people who had neither the strength to triumph nor the power to turn their defeats into victories. There was always a systematic relationship between humanitarianism and marc spirits, and there were many great gestures that suffered from the superfluous glass or the pleonasm of thirst.","There I saw great movements of tenderness, which seemed to me to reveal the depths of poor sad souls; I found that these movements did not last longer than the hour they were words, and that they had their root—how often I have noticed it with the sagacity of the silent—in the analogy of anything with the pious, lost with the rapidity of the novelty of notation, and, at other times, in the wine at the dinner of the loved one.",1,0.065604836,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 But, as very often happens, all crimes committed with extraordinary audacity are more often than others and succeed. And, as if on purpose, both of her girl's maids left quietly without asking, in the neighborhood, to a birthday party that happened in the same street. Entering the attic of the house through the dormer window, he went down to her living rooms along the ladder from the attic, knowing that the door, which was at the end of the ladder, was not always locked by the carelessness of the servants. She rejected his offer, and asked him not to go to her place. Feeling great love for her, he made her a declaration of love and began to persuade her to marry him. He committed a great and terrible crime, fourteen years before that, over a rich lady, a young and beautiful woman, a widow of a landowner, who had her own house in our city to visit. Having stopped walking, he, knowing the location of her house, made his way to her at night from the garden through the roof, with great audacity, risking being discovered. Having made his way into the living quarters, in the dark, he went into her bedroom, in which the lamp was burning. But she had already given her heart to another, one notable military man of not a small rank, who was at that time on a campaign and whom she expected, however, soon to her place. I hoped for an oversight, and this time I just found it.","He had committed a great and horrible crime fourteen years before. He had murdered the rich widow of a landowner, a young and beautiful woman who had a house in town. He fell deeply in love with her, told her of his love, and tried to persuade her to marry him. But she already loved another man, a distinguished, high-ranking army officer; he was away at the time on active service, but she expected him back soon. So she rejected his proposal and asked him not to visit her. He stopped visiting her house, but then one night, taking advantage of his familiarity with the layout of the place, he entered the house through the garden and by the roof, with reckless disregard for the risk of being caught. But the most daring crimes are often the most successful. He entered the attic through a skylight and made his way down the attic stairs, knowing that the servants, through carelessness, often left the door at the bottom of the stairs unlocked. And that night they had. From there, he made his way in darkness to the lady’s bedroom, where a lamp was burning before the icon. By sheer chance, her two maids had slipped unnoticed out of the house, without permission, to attend some birthday party down the street.",1,0.06608538,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 He pulled himself together, all the same, and quickly peered at Hans Castorp, who just had time to pull his own eyes away and gaze off vaguely into the air. No, thank God, Joachim’s face wasn’t turning blotchy as it had that day, and his lips were not in their woeful grimace. As always when he set eyes on this careless woman, he was reminded of the resemblance that he had been trying to recall for some time now and that had flashed across his dream. Marusya’s laugh, however, the sight of her round, brown eyes, blinking childishly out over the handkerchief with which she covered her mouth, and her full, prominent chest—said to be more than a little ill on the inside—reminded him of something else that had shaken him when he had noticed it recently, and so without turning his head, he glanced cautiously toward Joachim. All four were in a merry mood and their mouths worked ceaselessly at their soft, rather boneless language. As he did, he felt his heart pounding—for no reason, all of its own accord, as it had taken to doing up here. She sat down next to the old woman at the front, with the two young girls on the backseat. But he was watching Marusya—and in a pose, with a look in his eyes, that could not possibly be called military, but rather so gloomy and self-absorbed that one would have to term it downright civilian. Hans Castorp was pleased to discover that he could pick out Frau Chauchat’s opaque voice. They talked and laughed about the difficulty of fitting under the blanket, about the wooden box of Russian candies, wrapped in paper and bedded in cotton, which the great-aunt had brought along as provisions and now offered around.","She sat next to the old woman in the back of the car while the young girls took the back seats. All four were merry and incessantly moved their mouths in their soft, as it were boneless language. They talked and laughed about the carriage blanket, into which they had difficulty sharing, about the Russian confectionary that the great-aunt carried with her as a provision in a wooden box padded with cotton wool and paper points and was already presenting it... Hans Castorp shared Mrs. Chauchat's veiled voice. As always, when he saw the careless woman, the resemblance that he had been looking for for a while and that had dawned on him in his dreams was reaffirmed looking away at the handkerchief she was covering her mouth with, and her high breasts, which were supposed to be quite sick inside, reminded him of something else, shocking, what he had seen the other day, and so he looked cautiously and without moving his head Page on Joachim. No, thank God, Joachim's face didn't look as blotchy as it did then, and his lips weren't so pitifully distorted now either. But he looked at Marusya in an attitude, with an expression that could not possibly be called military, but seemed so bleak and self-absorbed that she had to be called quintessentially civilian. Then, by the way, he pulled himself together and looked quickly at Hans Castorp, so that he just had time to take his eyes off him and send them somewhere in the air. He felt his heart pounding - unmotivated and on his own, as it did here.",1,0.06608538,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 We all remained silent and waited for a denouement of some kind. Shatov didn’t raise his head, while Stepan Trofimovich was in a state of confusion, as if he were to blame for everything: perspiration broke out on his temples. I glanced at Liza (she was sitting in a corner, almost next to Shatov). Her sharp eyes kept darting from Varvara Petrovna to the crippled woman and back; a crooked but unattractive smile appeared on her lips. Varvara Petrovna saw this smile. Meanwhile, Marya Timofeevna was completely carried away: with pleasure and not in the least embarrassed, she examined Varvara Petrovna’s beautiful drawing room - the furniture, carpets, paintings on the walls, an ancient painted ceiling, a large bronze crucifix in the corner, a porcelain lamp, albums, gizmos on the table. ","And meanwhile, Marya Timofeyevna was utterly transported: she was examining, with pleasure and without the slightest embarrassment, Varvara Petrovna’s beautiful drawing room — the furnishings, the carpets, the pictures on the walls, the old-fashioned decorated ceiling, the large bronze crucifix in the corner, the china lamp, the albums, the knick-knacks on the table.",1,0.06656919,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 As soon as they were heard, they suddenly ceased, as if cut short.","My eyes fill with tears, and the taste of chocolate mingles with the taste of my past happiness, my lost childhood, and I cling voluptuously to that sweet pain.",1,0.06705628,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 unglad though she was at heart. “I know not the law so nicely in such matters,” she said gravely, “but I misdoubt me much, Jofrid, ’twill not be easy for Gaute to come to such an accord as you will call good.","as I had thought it was a crime to guess, it stood in front of someone else's eyes - not in front of someone stranger to me, not someone whose eyes could bounce off and be indifferent. No, they would penetrate the skin, they would catch and understand every fold.",1,0.06705628,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 40 Nor has a nightingale ever been heard in that country--perchance for the reason that the region contains no shaded arbours or gardens of roses.","The gradual subsidence of the seabed, the crumbling of the mountains, alluvial silt with the addition of light volcanic explosions - all this happened most of all in the fate of Agafya Matveyevna, and no one, least of all herself, noticed this.",1,0.06705628,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 Lenochka, an eight-year-old girl, at once ran for a pillow and put it on the hard and tattered oilcloth-covered sofa. The general sat down on it, intending to say more, but as soon as he touched the sofa he at once slumped on his side, turned to the wall and fell into the sleep of the just. With a grave and ceremonious air, Marfa Borisovna motioned the prince to a chair at one of the card-tables. She seated herself opposite, leaned her right cheek on her hand, and sat in silence, her eyes fixed on Muishkin, now and again sighing deeply. Three small children, two girls and a boy, of whom Lenochka was the eldest, approached the table, all three put their hands on the table, and all three also began to watch the prince closely. Kolya appeared from the other room.","Marfa Borisovna ceremoniously and sorrowfully showed the prince to a chair at a card table, sat down opposite him, propped her right cheek in her hand, and silently began to sigh as she looked at the prince.",1,0.06754669,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 Chichikov said. - So, mother, on the hands, or what?","Certainly he had come from God only knew where, and at the dead of night, too! “But, sir, I have never in my life sold dead folk—only living ones.",1,0.06804042,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 EVERYTHING GREW completely quiet as the famous orator’s first words resounded. The eyes of all the spectators were fastened on him. He started simply, directly, with an air of sincere conviction and without a trace of conceit. He made no attempt at eloquence, at emotional modulations, at pathos, or at dramatic phrasemaking. He sounded like a man trying to explain something to intimate friends. His voice was beautiful—warm and powerful—and in itself conveyed sincerity and frankness. Nevertheless, everyone present felt that if he chose to, the speaker could suddenly raise himself to the summits of true pathos and strike at their hearts with uncanny power. His language was perhaps more colloquial than the prosecutor’s, but it was also more precise, and he avoided long and involved sentences. There was one thing in his manner, however, of which the ladies did not approve —that was the way he bent his back. At the beginning of his speech, in particular, it looked as if he were not just bowing to the spectators, but preparing to rush or fly toward them. He obtained that effect by folding his long, thin back roughly in the middle, as if he had a hinge in it that enabled him to keep it bent almost at right angles. At first, he seemed to skip from one subject to another, as though stumbling on topics at random, without any system. Eventually, however, everything fell neatly into its proper place. His speech can be roughly divided into two parts: first, the refutation of the accusation, during which he sometimes used sarcasm and sometimes malice; and the second part, in which he suddenly changed both his tone and his manner and quickly raised himself to the summits of pathos, and when this happened, the audience responded at once with a quiver of delight, as if they had all been waiting for just that. He went straight to the point by announcing that, although he usually practiced in Petersburg, he sometimes agreed to go to other towns to defend people of whose innocence he was either certain or at least instinctively convinced. “The same thing happened to me in the present case,” he explained. “Even from the initial newspaper correspondences alone, I already had a glimpse of something that struck me enormously in favor of the defendant. This, perhaps, is imprudent on my part, but it is sincere. I should formulate this fact only at the end of my speech, when I finish my word, but, however, I will express my thought at the very beginning, for I have a weakness to proceed directly to the subject, without hiding the effects and without economizing impressions. This is my thought, my formula is as follows: an overwhelming set of facts against the defendant and at the same time not a single fact that can stand criticism, if we consider it individually, in itself! In short, I was primarily interested in a certain legal fact, although it is often repeated in judicial practice, but never, it seems to me, in such completeness and with such characteristic features as in the present case. Following further rumors and newspapers, I became more and more affirmed in my thought, and suddenly I received an invitation from the defendant's family to defend him. And then one day the family of the accused approached me and asked me to handle his defense. I accepted immediately and now I am completely convinced that my first impressions were absolutely correct. I accepted the case in order to destroy that frightening collection of facts by exposing them, one by one, as unproven and far-fetched.”","“And this is just such as case,” he said, “for the very first newspaper reports suggested something to me that was very much in favor of the accused. There was a certain legal problem that interested me here, and, although similar problems occur quite often in legal practice, I believe I have never seen this one appear so fully, with all its characteristic aspects, as here. I should really have kept this point for the end of my speech, for my final summation, but I will explain my idea now, at the outset, because I have a weakness for going straight to the point, without trying to save any possible effect for later, without economizing my ammunition. I may be accused of improvidence, but at least no one can say that I am not straightforward. This idea of mine is that, while I concede that the sum total of facts does point to the guilt of the accused, there is not one single fact that could be considered unassailable if taken individually. The more I read and heard about this case, the more this impression was confirmed.",1,0.06804042,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 He poured the last drop down his throat and continued: “I’m sorry about the way I keep flitting from one thing to another. But my mind keeps wandering, partly because I’m so drunk, but also because I know there ’s something basically wrong with me. I’m just a simple agronomist—you know that—a student from a cow-dung academy. I’m a philosopher who has never learned to think. Well, let’s not go into details , they’re of no interest to you, and because they’re part of my past, I find them repugnant. Do you know, it often gets to the point where I sit down here trying to come to terms with myself and then suddenly call myself Rochefort in a loud voice? I tap myself on the head and call myself Rochefort! Do you know once I actually ordered a signet ring with a hedgehog engraved on it? … That reminds me of a man I once knew—he was a respectable man, a philology student at a German university; nothing at all unusual about him. But he began to go to pieces; in two years he became an alcoholic, and a novelist to boot! When he met people who tried to ask him about himself, he merely answered that he was a fact. ‘I’m a fact!’ he would exclaim, his mouth drawn tight in arrogance. Well, this doesn’t concern you. You mentioned a philosopher who had never learned to think—or was it I who was talking about him? I’m sorry— by now I’m really drunk, but so what? Don’t let that bother you. But I’d like to explain about the philosopher who couldn’t think. If I understood you correctly, you wanted to attack the man. Oh yes, I definitely had that impression, you spoke in a scornful tone of voice; but the man you mentioned deserves to be seen more or less in perspective. In the first place, he was crazy—I still insist he was crazy. He always wore a long, red tie and smiled his stupid smile. In fact, he was such a fool that he always had his nose buried in a book when anyone approached him, though he never read. And another thing: he never wore any socks, so he could afford a rose for his buttonhole. That’s the way he was. But the best part of all was that he had a collection of photographs of simple though decent-looking working-class girls on which he inscribed fancy-sounding names, to give the impression that he was moving in important circles. On one of the photos he had written ‘Miss Stang,’ to suggest that she was related to the prime minister, though the girl’s family name was probably only a Lie, or a Haug at the most. He he! What do you make of such phoniness! He imagined that people were talking about him behind his back—maligning him, he said. He he, do you think that anyone would ever even bother? Then one day he walked into a jewelry shop smoking two cigars—two cigars! He had one in his hand and one in his mouth; both were lit. Perhaps he wasn’t aware that he had two cigars going at one time, but since he was a thinker who hadn’t learned to think, he didn’t ask why …”",Your reaction was so violent that I really got that impression; you spoke of him so scornfully. But that man deserves to be judged more objectively.,1,0.06804042,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 At the first instant Marius thought it was another daughter of the same man, a sister doubtless of her whom he had seen before. But when the invariable habit of his promenade led him for the second time near the seat, and he had looked at her attentively, he recognised that she was the same. In six months the little girl had become a young woman; that was all. Yesterday we left them as children, today we find them disturbing. Nothing is more common than this phenomenon. There is a moment when girls bloom in the blink of an eye and turn into roses all of a sudden. ","Nothing is more frequent than this phenomenon. There is a moment when girls bloom out in a twinkling and become roses all at once. Yesterday we left them children, to-day we find them dangerous.",1,0.07004896,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 Look at it unpacked. The book says:","“Now having carefully observed your talent in attack, I see you are not equal to your most honored father. From the moment of his emergence from his retreat, he said that the country was to be in tripod division.",1,0.07004896,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 but I ardently wished to see you as soon as possible. And the next morning, from eight o'clock, you deigned to go to Serpukhov: then you had just sold your Tula estate, to pay off creditors, but still you still had an appetizing jackpot in your hands, that's why you came to Moscow then, which until that time they could not look into, being afraid of creditors; and only this Serpukhov rude man, one of all creditors, did not agree to take half of the debt instead of everything. All night I was delirious, and the next day, at ten o'clock, I was already standing at the office, but the office was pretend: you had people sitting, and you did business with them; then suddenly they drove away for the whole day until late at night - What I wanted to tell you then - I forgot, of course, and didn’t know then, so I didn’t see you! Of course, immediately after Woe from Wit, Tatyana Pavlovna took me home: “You can’t stay dancing, only I myself won’t stay through you,” you hissed to me, Tatyana Pavlovna, all the way in the carriage.","Of course, as soon as the performance was over, she whisked me away home. ' Why, you didn't expect that you'd stay for the reception and the dance,' she kept hissing at me in the carriage, 'and it's because of you that I couldn't stay myself.' ""I was almost delirious that night, and the following morning at ten I was waiting by the door of your study. But the door was closed, there were people with you, discussing business matters. Then I heard you all leave the house and you were still out that night when I went to sleep. What it was I wanted to tell you so badly I've forgotten, although I'm sure I didn't even know at the time. All I know is that I was in a great hurry to see you. And the morning after that, it was not even eight o'clock when you left for Serpukhov. Around that time, you had sold your Tula estate to pay off your debts, after which you still had quite a bit of money left over. So now you could show yourself in Moscow without fearing your creditors. There was only that 'ill-mannered clod from Serpukhov' who wouldn't settle temporarily for half of what you owed him instead of the whole thing. . . . When I asked about you, Mrs. Prutkov would just ignore my questions: 'That's none of your business.",1,0.07004896,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 The conductor pulled the cord, which was attached to the coachman’s arm, the bus came to a halt and the man got off. José Dias gave a quick look round, then, seizing me by the arm, made me get off with him. We, too, were to accompany the procession. In effect, the bell called the faithful to that last-minute service. There were already some people in the sacristy. Then, as Padua was speaking to the sacristan, in a low voice, he approached them; i did the same thing. It was the first time that I found myself in such a serious situation; I obeyed, at first embarrassed, but soon after satisfied, less for the charity of the service than for giving me a man's office. Padua asked the sacristan for one of the poles of the pallium. José Dias asked for one for himself. As the sexton began to distribute the opas, a breathless fellow entered; it was my neighbor Padua, who was also going to accompany the Blessed Sacrament. José Dias made a gesture of annoyance, and only replied with a dry word, looking at the priest, who was washing his hands. He found us, came to greet us. ","The bells were in fact summoning the faithful to the service of the last rites, and there were already some people in the sacristy. It was the first time I had been present on such a solemn occasion; I obeyed him, unwillingly at first, but later I was pleased not so much by the charitable nature of the church service but because I performed the duties of an adult. As the sacristan was about to distribute the surplices a fellow rushed in completely out of breath; it was my neighbour, Pádua, who had also come to accompany the procession. Seeing us he came over to greet us. With an offended air José Dias gave a brief word of reply, keeping his eyes fixed on the priest, who was washing his hands. Then, as Pádua was whispering to the sacristan, he moved closer and I followed. Pàdua was asking to hold one of the shafts of the canopy. José Dias asked for one for himself.",1,0.0705596,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 Jia Zhengyin asked, ""Who's with Baoyu?"" He only heard two words from the outside, and three or four big men came in early to greet Qian'er. When Jia Zheng looked at it, he recognized that it was the son of Baoyu's nanny, whose name was Li Gui. Yin said to him, ""You Chengri went to school with him, what books did he read! ‘Sir!’ until I have a little time to spare: I’ll have your hide off first and then settle accounts with that good-for-nothing son of mine!’ Stuffing his head with worthless nonsense and acquiring a fine new stock of knavish tricks, I shouldn’t wonder! Wait Li Gui hurriedly knelt down on his knees, took off his hat, met each other in a loud voice, repeatedly agreed “yes”, and replied, “Brother has already read the third book of the Book of Songs. "", ""Yo Yo Lu Ming, lotus leaf duckweed"", the little ones dare not lie. "" The whole audience burst into laughter. Jia Zheng couldn't help but laugh. Yin said, ""Even if you recite thirty copies of the Book of Songs, you will still hide your ears and steal the bells and lull people's ears and eyes. You go and ask the master of the school to say that I have said: about the ancient texts of the ""Book of Songs"", there is no need to make false stories, only The most important thing is to explain the four books by heart."" Li Gui hurriedly agreed ""yes"". Seeing that Jia Zheng was speechless, Fang quit.","Instead, he read some gossip in his stomach, and learned some naughty things. When I have some free time, I will reveal yours first. Pi, let’s settle accounts with the poor one!”",1,0.071073666,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 Candide was very pleased with an actress who played Queen Elizabeth in a rather dull tragedy that is sometimes played. ' This actress,' he said to Martin, 'pleases me very much; she looks like Miss Cunégonde; I would be happy to greet her. The Perigordian abbé offered to introduce her to her room. Candide, brought up in Germany, asked what the etiquette was, and how the queens of England were treated in France. ""We must distinguish,"" said the abbé; in the provinces, they are taken to the cabaret; in Paris, they are respected when they are beautiful, and they are thrown into the garbage when they are dead. — Queens on the road! said Candide. "" Yes, really,"" said Martin; Monsieur l'abbé is right: I was in Paris when Mademoiselle Monime passed, as they say, from this life to the other; he was refused what these people call the honors of burial , that is to say, to rot with all the beggars of the neighborhood in an ugly cemetery; she was buried alone with her band at the corner of the rue de Bourgogne; which must have pained her extremely, for she thought very nobly. ""That's very impolite,"" said Candide. - What do you want? said Martin; these people are like that. Imagine all the contradictions, all the possible incompatibilities, you will see them in the government, in the courts, in the churches, in the shows of this strange nation. ""Is it true that people always laugh in Paris?"" said Candide. "" Yes,"" said the abbé, ""but he is furious; for they complain of everything with great bursts of laughter; and even the most detestable actions are performed there while laughing.",—What do you expect?,1,0.071073666,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 That sealed the deal. Saccard was still anxious, though. He was afraid that the 500,000-franc figure might strike the indemnity commission as somewhat inflated for a house well-known to be worth 200,000 at best. The remarkable rise in real estate values had yet to take place. An investigation would have subjected him to a risk of serious unpleasantness. He remembered what his brother had said to him: “No unseemly scandals, or I’ll get rid of you.” And he knew Eugène to be the kind of man to carry out such a threat. The honorable members of the commission would need to have the wool pulled over their eyes, and their goodwill would have to be secured. He looked to two influential men whose friendship he had won by the way he greeted them in hallways when they met. The thirty-six members of the City Council were hand-picked by the Emperor himself, on the recommendation of the Prefect, from among the senators, deputies, lawyers, doctors, and great men of industry who prostrated themselves before the reigning power; but among them all, the fervour of Baron Gouraud and of Monsieur Toutin-Laroche especially attracted the good will of the Tuileries. ","The thirty-six members of the municipal council were handpicked by the Emperor himself, on the prefect’s recommendation, from among the senators, deputies, lawyers, doctors, and leading industrialists who knelt most devoutly before the majesty of the government. Of all of them, however, two had earned the favor of the Tuileries by their zealousness: Baron Gouraud and M. Toutin-Laroche.",1,0.0715912,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 All of this served principally to further the unexpected circumstance by which, one can say, our entire fate is now being altered. You should know, dear Rodya, that a suitor has proposed to Dunya and she’s already given her consent, which I’m writing to inform you about immediately. In general, people suddenly began treating her with special respect. Lines were formed since she was expected in advance at every household and everyone knew that on such and such a day Marfa Petrovna would read the letter there. At each reading, people would line up who’d already heard the letter read several times in their own homes and in those of their other acquaintances. At least she fully restored Dunechka’s honor. All the vileness of this affair left an indelible disgrace on her husband as the main culprit, so that I even began to feel sorry for him. People dealt too severely with that madman. Besides, you yourself couldn’t have judged it accurately without being here. Even though this matter was conducted without your advice, you probably won’t bear any grudge either against me or your sister, since you yourself will see, from the facts, that it was impossible to delay or wait for your answer to arrive. In my opinion, much of this, very much, was unnecessary; but such was Marfa Petrovna’s character. Soon Dunya was invited to give lessons in several households, but she refused.","and everyone knew that on such and such a day Marfa Petrovna would be reading that letter in a particular house, and at every reading people would come along even after they had already heard the letter read several times, in their own homes and then their friends’ homes, one after the other. In my opinion, much of this, a very great deal of this, was going too far; but that’s Marfa Petrovna’s character. At least she completely succeeded in restoring Dunechka’s honour, and all the ignominy of the whole business fell as an indelible disgrace upon her husband, the chief culprit, so that I even feel sorry for him, crazy man, he’s been too severely punished. Straight away Dunia began getting invitations to give lessons in people’s homes, but she turned them down. And generally everyone started to treat her with special respect. All that was particularly helpful in bringing about the unexpected event which has now, as we may say, transformed our whole destiny. Let me tell you, dear Rodia, that Dunia has received a proposal of marriage and has already given her consent, which I want to tell you about at once. And although this has all been settled without your advice, I am sure you won’t hold it against either me or your sister, since you can see for yourself that we couldn’t have waited and put off replying until we heard from you. And in any case you couldn’t have judged things properly without being here.",1,0.07211221,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 Suddenly our prince, for no apparent reason, perpetrated two or three gross outrages against various people, the important thing being, in other words, that these outrages were utterly without precedent, utterly unimaginable, utterly unlike anything usually done, utterly rotten and childish, and the Devil knows why, utterly without provocation. "" There was a terrible uproar; he was surrounded. And so what. But one day in the club, when he uttered this aphorism at some heated moment to a small group of club guests gathered around him (none of them inconsequential), Nikolai Vsevolodovich, who was standing apart by himself and whom no one was addressing, suddenly came up to Pavel Pavlovich, seized his nose unexpectedly but firmly with two fingers, and managed to pull him two or three steps across the room. He could not have felt any anger towards Mr. Gaganov. One might think it was merely a childish prank, a most unpardonable one, of course; yet it was recounted later that at the very moment of the operation he was almost in a reverie, ""just as if he had lost his mind""; but this was recalled and grasped long afterwards. One of the most respectable senior members of our club, Pavel Pavlovich Gaganov, an elderly man and even a decorated one, had acquired the innocent habit of accompanying his every word with a passionately uttered: ""No, sir, they won't lead me by the nose!"" At first, in the heat of the moment, everyone recalled only what happened next, by which time he certainly understood how things really were and not only did not become embarrassed but, on the contrary, smiled gaily and maliciously, ""without the least repentance. Nikolay Vsevolodovich kept turning and looking around, not replying to anyone and peering at the shouting people with curiosity. Finally, he suddenly seemed to become lost in thought once more — that, at least, is the way it was reported — gave a frown, marched resolutely up to the affronted Pavel Pavlovich and in evident annoyance, quickly muttered:","One of the most respected senior members of our club, Pavel Pavlovich Gaganov, a man well along in years and even honoured for his service, had adopted the innocent habit of accompanying his every word with a vehement ‘No, indeed, they won’t lead me by the nose!’ Well, there was nothing wrong with that. But on one occasion in the club, when during a heated discussion he uttered this phrase to a handful of club members that had clustered round him (and all of them people of some importance), Nikolay Vsevolodovich, who was standing by himself to one side and to whom no one was paying any attention, suddenly walked up to Pavel Pavlovich, seized him unexpectedly but firmly by the nose with two fingers, and managed to drag him two or three steps across the room. He couldn’t possibly have felt any animus towards Mr Gaganov. It might be thought of as just a schoolboy prank, of the most unforgivable kind, to be sure. And yet, as people subsequently described it, at the very moment of the operation, he was almost in a reverie, ‘as if he had lost his mind’; but that was recalled and reflected on only long afterwards. In the heat of things everyone at first remembered only the next moment, when he must have realized what had actually happened, and not only showed no embarrassment, but on the contrary, gave a malicious and happy smile, ‘without the slightest regret’. A truly dreadful din arose; people clustered round him.",1,0.07263671,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 Even without looking in the mirror, though, she thought that even now it was not too late, and she recalled Sergei Ivanovich, who had been especially gracious to her, and Stiva’s friend, the kind Turovtsyn, who had helped her take care of her children during the scarlet fever and was in love with her, and there was one other quite young man who, her husband had joked, found her the most beautiful of all the sisters. And the most passionate and impossible novels were presented to Daria Alexandrovna. She is happy, makes the happiness of another person and is not crammed like me, but, surely, just as always, fresh, smart, open to everything, ”thought Daria Alexandrovna, and her cheating smile wrinkled her lips, especially because Thinking about Anna's novel, in parallel with it, Daria Alexandrovna imagined her almost the same romance with an imaginary collective man who was in love with her. “Anna did an excellent job, and I will not reproach her in any way. Like Anna, she confessed everything to her husband. And Stepan Arkadyevich’s shock and confusion at this news made her smile.","Darya Alexandrovna pictured the most passionate and impossible romances. “Anna did quite right, and I can’t ever reproach her in the least. She is happy, she is making someone else happy, and she is not broken down, as I am, but is probably just as fresh, clever, and open to everything as ever,” thought Darya Alexandrovna, and a mischievous grin creased her lips, especially because, while thinking about Anna’s romance, Darya Alexandrovna imagined parallel to it her almost identical romance with an imagined composite man who was in love with her.",1,0.07316472,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 Sitting aloft in the seat of honor, Tripitaka was like a child struck by lightning, a frog smitten by rain. With eyes bulging and rolling upward, he could barely keep himself from keeling over in his chair. But Eight Rules, hearing of such wealth and such beauty, could hardly quell the unbearable itch in his heart! Sitting on his chair, he kept turning and twisting as if a needle were pricking him in the ass. Finally he could restrain himself no longer. Walking forward, he tugged at his master, saying, “Master! How can you completely ignore what the lady has been saying to you? You must try to pay some attention.” Jerking back his head, the priest gave such a hostile shout that Eight Rules backed away hurriedly. “You cursed beast!” he bellowed. “We are people who have left home. How can we possibly allow ourselves anymore to be moved by riches and tempted by beauty?” Giggling, the woman said, “Oh dear, dear! Tell me, what’s so good about those who leave home?” “Lady Bodhisattva,” said Tripitaka, “tell me what is so good about those of you who remain at home?” “Please take a seat, elder,” said the woman, “and let me tell you the benefits in the life of those of us who remain at home. If you ask what they are, this poem will make them abundantly clear. When spring fashions appear I wear new silk; Pleased to watch summer lilies I change to lace. Autumn brings fragrant rice-wine newly brewed. In winter’s heated rooms my face glows with wine. I may enjoy the fruits of all four climes And every dainty of eight seasons, too. The silk sheets and quilts of the bridal eve Best the mendicant’s life of Buddhist chants.” Tripitaka said, “Lady Bodhisattva, you who remain in the home can enjoy riches and glory; you have things to eat, clothes to wear, and children by your side. But what you don't realize is that the religious life has advantages, which are described in this poem: It is no light matter to decide to enter religion: You have to demolish the love and gratitude you felt before. No cares without, tongue and mouth are at peace; Your body within has good yin and yang.","That is undeniably a good life, but you do not know that there are some benefits in the life of those of us who have left home. If you ask what they are, this poem will make them abundantly clear. The will to leave home is no common thing: You must tear down the old stronghold of love!",1,0.07316472,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 With the feeling of fatigue and uncleanness that comes from a night on the train, in the early mist of Petersburg Alexei Alexandrovich drove down the deserted Nevsky and stared straight ahead, not thinking of what awaited him. He could not think of it because, when he imagined what was to be, he could not rid himself of the thought that death would resolve at a stroke all the difficulty of his situation. Bakers, locked-up shops, night cabs, caretakers sweeping the pavements, flashed past his eyes, and he observed it all, trying to stifle within himself the thought of what awaited him and what he dared not wish but wished all the same. He drove up to the porch. A cab and a coach with a sleeping coachman stood at the entrance. As he went into the front hall, Alexei Alexandrovich drew a resolution, as it were, from a far corner of his brain and consulted it. It read: “If a deception, then calm contempt, and leave. If it is true, then observe the decency. "" ","It read: ‘If it is a deception, then calm contempt, and depart. If true, observe propriety.’",1,0.074231364,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 What fatigue and hardship you, Imperial uncle, have had to bear throughout the whole journey, your humble servant heard yesterday, when the courier sent ahead came and announced that Your Highness would this day reach this mansion. I have merely got ready a glass of mean wine for you to wipe down the dust with, but I wonder, whether Your Highness will deign to bestow upon it the lustre of your countenance, and accept it.” “Imperial uncle,” she said, in a jocose manner, when she realised that there was no outsider present in the room, “I congratulate you! Having, after his arrival home, paid his salutations to all the inmates, he retired to his own quarters at the very moment that lady Feng had multifarious duties to attend to, and had not even a minute to spare; but, considering that Chia Lien had returned from a distant journey, she could not do otherwise than put by what she had to do, and to greet him and wait on him. P’ing Erh and the whole company of waiting-maids simultaneously paid their obeisance to him, and this ceremony concluded, they presented tea. Chia Lien thereupon made inquiries about the various matters, which had transpired in their home after his departure, and went on to thank lady Feng for all the trouble she had taken in the management of them. “How dare I presume to such an honour,” he added by way of rejoinder; “I’m unworthy of such attention! Many thanks, many thanks.” Chia Lien smiled.","Besides, Jia Lian had seen everyone since he returned home and returned to his room. When Sister Feng was busy recently, she had no spare time to work. Seeing Jia Lian returning from a long way, she had to take time to receive him. There was no one in the room. The head of the newspaper reported to the Malay newspaper, saying that I will be returning home today, and I have prepared a glass of water and wine to dust the dust. I don’t know if I will give you the light and lead it?” Jia Lian smiled, “How dare you not dare, I will bear more and more.” After the maids visit the shrine, they offer tea. Jia Lian then asked goodbye to the family affairs, and thanked Sister Feng for her hard work.",1,0.07477005,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 “My dear Rodya,” his mother wrote. “It’s been more than two months since I’ve written you a letter, as a result of which I’ve suffered, at times even lost sleep, wondering about you. But most likely you won’t blame me for my unintended silence. You know how I love you; you’re all we have, Dunya and I, you mean everything to us, all our hope, all our aspiration. I was so upset when I learned that you’d left the university several months ago because you were unable to support yourself, and that your lessons and other sources had ended! How could I help you with my pension of only one hundred and twenty rubles a year? As you well know, I’d borrowed those fifteen rubles I sent you four months ago from our local merchant Afanasy Ivanovich Vakhrushin, on the promise of my pension. He’s a good man and was your father’s acquaintance. But in giving him the right to receive my pension for me, I was obliged to wait until I repaid my debt, and that’s only just happened, so all this time I haven’t been able to send you anything. But now, thank God, it seems I can send you some more; in general, we can even boast of good fortune now about which I hasten to inform you. In the first place, could you guess, dear Rodya, that your dear sister has been living with me for the last month and a half, and we’ll no longer be separated in the future. Praise the Lord, her torments have ended, but I’ll tell you everything in order, so you’ll know what’s happened and what we’ve been keeping from you up to now. When you wrote to me about two months ago that you’d heard from someone or other that Dunya had to endure much rudeness in Mr. Svidrigaylov’s house and you asked me for a more detailed explanation —what could I write to you at that time? If I’d told you the whole truth, you’d probably have dropped everything and rushed to see us, even come on foot, because I know your character and your feelings, and you wouldn’t have allowed your sister to be insulted. I myself was in despair, but what could I do? Even I didn’t know the whole truth then. The main difficulty was that Dunya, who’d entered their household last year as a governess, had received an advance of one hundred rubles, on the condition that a certain amount would be deducted from her salary each month; therefore, she couldn’t leave her position until she’d repaid her debt. This amount (I can now explain it all to you, precious Rodya) she’d accepted mostly so she could send you sixty rubles, which you needed then and which you received from us last year. At the time we deceived you, writing that it had come from Dunya’s savings, but that wasn’t so. Now I’m telling you the whole truth because everything’s suddenly changed, by the will of God, for the better, and so you’ll know how much Dunya loves you and what a precious heart she has. As a matter of fact, right from the start Mr. Svidrigaylov treated her very rudely and made various impolite remarks and insults to her at the table. . . . But I don’t want to dwell on these agonizing difficulties and upset you for no reason, since all of that’s stopped. In brief, in spite of the kind and generous treatment by Marfa Petrovna, Mr. Svidrigaylov’s wife, and all the servants, Dunechka had a very difficult time, especially when Mr. Svidrigaylov, following old regimental custom, was under the influence of Bacchus. But what happened afterward? Just imagine that this madman had conceived a passion for Dunya sometime earlier, but had been concealing it under the guise of rudeness and contempt for her. Perhaps he himself was ashamed and horrified to see that he himself, at his age and as the father of a family, harbored such frivolous hopes; therefore, he inadvertently took his anger out on Dunya. Perhaps by his rude treatment and mockery he wanted to hide the whole truth from other people. But, in the end, he couldn’t restrain himself and dared make an open and vile proposition to Dunya, promising her various rewards; moreover, he said he would forsake everything and go to another village with her or, perhaps, even abroad. You can imagine her suffering! It was impossible for her to leave her position at that time, not only because of her financial obligation, but because she wanted to spare Marfa Petrovna, who might suddenly conceive a hatred for her, and consequently arouse discord in the household. It would create a huge scandal for Dunechka; she’d never be able to escape it. There were many other reasons why Dunya couldn’t consider removing herself from this horrible house earlier than six weeks. Of course, you know Dunya , you know how clever she is and what a strong character she has. She can tolerate many things and find so much generosity within herself even in the most extreme circumstances, so as not to lose her strength. She didn’t even write to me about all this so as not to upset me, though we often exchanged news. The finale was unexpected. Marfa Petrovna accidentally overheard her husband imploring Dunechka in the garden. Misinterpreting the whole affair, she blamed Dunya for everything, thinking that she was the cause of it all. It occasioned a terrible scene right there in the garden: Marfa Petrovna even struck her, and didn’t want to listen to reason. She shouted for a whole hour and finally ordered that Dunya be sent back to me in town on a simple peasant’s cart, onto which they tossed all her things, linens, dresses, in any which way, untied and unpacked. Then it began to pour down rain; Dunya, insulted and disgraced, had to make the trip, all eleven miles, with a peasant in an open cart. Now just imagine, how and what could I write in reply to your letter that I’d received two months ago? I myself was in despair. I dared not tell you the truth because you’d be so unhappy, bitter, and angry. And what could you do? You might have gotten yourself into trouble; besides, Dunya wouldn’t allow it. I couldn’t just fill my letter with nonsense about this and that, when I felt such sorrow in my soul. Rumors about this episode circulated through the whole town for an entire month, and it reached the point where Dunya and I couldn’t even go to church because of all the contemptuous looks and whispers. Remarks were even uttered aloud in our presence. All of our acquaintances shunned us, and everyone stopped greeting us. I learned for certain that some merchants’ shop assistants and some office clerks wanted to insult us in the worst possible way by tarring the gates of our house so that the landlord would demand that we vacate our apartment. The cause of all this was Marfa Petrovna, who’d managed to denounce and slander Dunya in every household. She was acquainted with everyone in town, and during that month she visited town continually. She’s somewhat talkative and loves to go on about family matters, especially complaining about her husband to each and every person, which is not a good thing; so she spread the whole story in a very short time, not only in town, but throughout the district. I fell ill, but Dunya was stronger than I was; if you’d only seen how she endured it all and how she consoled and reassured me! She’s an angel! But, by God’s grace, our torments ended. Mr. Svidrigaylov thought better of it, repented, probably taking pity on Dunya, and presented to Marfa Petrovna clear and complete evidence of Dunya’s innocence, namely this: a letter that Dunya had felt compelled to write and convey to him, even before Marfa Petrovna came upon them in the garden, one that remained in his possession after Dunya’s departure. The note asked him to cease these personal declarations and secret meetings that he’d insisted on. In this letter she reproached him in the most impassioned way and with total indignation for his dishonorable treatment of Marfa Petrovna. She reminded him that he was a father and the head of a household, and, finally, she said how vile it was for him to torment and distress a young woman who was already in distress and defenseless. In a word, dear Rodya, this letter was so nobly and poignantly written that I sobbed while reading it and to this day can’t do so without shedding tears. Contributing to Dunya’s exoneration came the testimony of those servants who saw and knew much more than Mr. Svidrigaylov supposed, as always happens. Marfa Petrovna was completely astounded and ‘once again crushed,’ as she herself acknowledged; on the other hand, she was fully convinced of Dunechka’s innocence. The very next day, Sunday, heading directly to church, she tearfully implored Our Lady to give her the strength to bear this new ordeal and carry out her duty. Then, right after church, without making any stops, she came to us and told us everything. She wept bitterly and, with full repentance, embraced Dunya and begged her forgiveness. That same morning, without tarrying, she set off right from our house to all the households in town, and in each one, shedding tears, she restored Dunya’s innocence and the nobility of her feelings and behavior in the most flattering terms. She showed everyone Dunechka’s handwritten letter to Mr. Svidrigaylov, read it aloud, and even allowed people to make copies of it (which, it seems to me, was going too far). So she found herself having to spend several days on end visiting everyone in the town, in turn, because some people were offended that others had been given preference over them, so queues built up, and in every house she was expected in advance, Lines were formed since she was expected in advance at every household and everyone knew that on such and such a day Marfa Petrovna would read the letter there. At each reading, people would line up who’d already heard the letter read several times in their own homes and in those of their other acquaintances. In my opinion, much of this, very much, was unnecessary; but such was Marfa Petrovna’s character. At least she fully restored Dunechka’s honor. All the vileness of this affair left an indelible disgrace on her husband as the main culprit, so that I even began to feel sorry for him. People dealt too severely with that madman. Soon Dunya was invited to give lessons in several households, but she refused. In general, people suddenly began treating her with special respect. All of this served principally to further the unexpected circumstance by which, one can say, our entire fate is now being altered. You should know, dear Rodya, that a suitor has proposed to Dunya and she’s already given her consent, which I’m writing to inform you about immediately. Even though this matter was conducted without your advice, you probably won’t bear any grudge either against me or your sister, since you yourself will see, from the facts, that it was impossible to delay or wait for your answer to arrive. Besides, you yourself couldn’t have judged it accurately without being here. This is how it happened. He’s already a court councillor, this Petr Petrovich Luzhin, a distant relative of Marfa Petrovna’s, who herself helped a great deal in this affair. It all began with his expressing a desire through her that he wished to make our acquaintance; he was received properly, had some coffee, and the next day sent a letter in which he very politely stated his proposal and asked for a swift and definitive answer. He’s a practical, busy man, just about to leave for Petersburg, so he values every minute. Of course, at first we were very surprised, since all this took place so swiftly and unexpectedly. All that day we pondered and considered it together. He’s a reliable, well-to-do person, works in two places, and has already amassed some capital. It’s true that he’s forty-five, but he has a rather pleasant appearance and can still be attractive to women; he’s also an extremely solid and decent man, only a little gloomy and a bit arrogant. But perhaps it only seems that way, at first glance. I advise you, dear Rodya, when you meet him in Petersburg, which will happen quite soon, not to judge him too quickly and heatedly, as you sometimes do, if at first glance you think something about him is not quite right. I say this just in case, although I’m sure that he’ll make a pleasant impression on you. Besides, in order to determine what sort of person he is, one must deal with him gradually and carefully, so as not to fall into error or prejudice, which is difficult to correct or smooth over afterward. And Petr Petrovich, at least from many indications, is an extremely respectable man. On his first visit, he stated that he was a positive person; he shares to a large extent, as he himself explained it, ‘the convictions of our younger generation,’ and he is an enemy of all prejudices. He said a great many other things because he seems a bit vain and very much likes to be listened to, but that’s almost not a fault. Of course, I understood very little, but Dunya explained to me that although he is not a well-educated man, he is clever and, it seems, kind. You know your sister’s character, Rodya. She’s a strong young woman, sensible, patient, and generous, although she has an impassioned heart, as I’ve come to know well. Of course, there’s no particular love involved, either on her side or on his, but Dunya, in addition to being a clever young woman, is also a lofty creature—an angel. She’ll consider it her duty to make her husband happy, and he, in turn, will concern himself with his wife’s happiness, which, for the time being, we have no major reason to doubt, even though, I must admit, this whole affair was concluded rather quickly. Besides, he’s a very prudent man and of course will realize that his own conjugal happiness will be more assured the happier Dunechka is with him. As for the fact that there are some irregularities in his character, some old habits, even some disagreement in their views (which can’t be avoided even in the happiest of marriages), on that count Dunechka told me that she’s relying on herself and there’s no reason to be concerned, that she can tolerate a great deal on the condition that their future relations will be fair and honest. For example, he seemed a bit harsh to me at first; but that could be precisely because he’s such a straightforward man, and it’s absolutely so. For example, during his second visit, after he’d already received her consent, he expressed in our conversation that previously, even before he knew Dunya, he’d intended to marry an honest young woman, but one without a dowry, and certainly one who’d already experienced poverty; because, as he explained, a husband should in no way be obligated to his wife, and that it’s much better if the wife considers her husband to be her benefactor. I’ll add that he expressed himself a little more gently and affectionately than I described, but I’ve forgotten his exact words, and recall only the idea; besides, he said it without any premeditation. Obviously it just slipped out in the heat of conversation, so that afterward he even tried to correct himself and soften it. But it still seemed somewhat harsh to me, and I conveyed this to Dunya later. But she replied, even somewhat annoyed, that ‘words are not the same as deeds,’ and of course that’s fair. Before deciding, Dunechka didn’t sleep the whole night; supposing that I was already asleep, she got out of bed and spent the whole night pacing back and forth in the room. Finally she knelt down and prayed fervently in front of the icon for a long time; in the morning, she announced to me that she’d made a decision.","In this way it took her several days to visit everyone in town, so that some people felt offended that she was partial to others.",1,0.07477005,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 How come that Father has never supported me in my struggle, that he completely failed when he wanted to lend me a helping hand? Father has taken the wrong means, he has always spoken to me as to a child who had to go through difficult childhoods. That sounds crazy, because no one but father has always given me much confidence and no one but father has made me feel that I am sensible. But one thing he neglected: he didn't think that my struggle to get over it was more important to me than anything else. I didn't want to hear about 'age phenomena', 'other girls', 'will pass on its own', I didn't want to be treated as a girl-like-all the others, but as Anne-in-herself. For that matter, I can’t confide in anyone, unless they tell me a lot about themselves, and as I know very little about Pim, I don’t feel that I can tread upon more intimate ground with him. Pim didn’t understand that. ","Pim didn't understand that. Besides, I can't trust someone who doesn't tell me very much about himself either, and because I know very little about Pim, I won't be able to enter the intimate path between us.",1,0.07477005,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 With the passing of 5,400 years, the beginning of Hai was the epoch of darkness. This moment was named Chaos, because there were neither human beings nor the two spheres. This sequence may also be understood macrocosmically. At the end of the epoch of Xu, Heaven and Earth were obscure and all things were indistinct. After another 5,400 years Hai ended, and as the creative force began to work after great perseverance, the epoch of Zi drew near and again brought gradual development. Considered as the horary circle, the sequence would be thus: the first sign of dawn appears in the hour of Zi, while at Chou the cock crows; daybreak occurs at Yin, and the sun rises at Mao; Chen comes after breakfast, and by Si everything is planned; at Wu the sun arrives at its meridian, and it declines westward by Wei; the evening meal comes during the hour of Shen, and the sun sinks completely at Yu; twilight sets in at Xu, and people rest by the hour of Hai. Shao Kangjie3 said: When to the middle of Zi winter moved, No change by Heaven’s","Now within a single day, the positive begins at the time I; at II the cock crows; at III it is not quite light; at IV the sun rises; V is after breakfast; and at VI one does business. VII is when the sun reaches noon; at VIII it is slipping towards the West; IX is late afternoon; the sun sets at X; XI is dusk; and at XII people settle down for the night. If you compare this with the big numbers, then at the end of Phase XI Heaven and Earth were still one, and no beings had appeared. 5,400 years later came the beginning of Phase XII, when all was darkness and there were still no people or other creatures; for this reason it was called Chaos. Another 5,400 years later Phase XII was drawing to a close and a new cycle was about to begin. As Phase I of the new era approached, gradually there was light. As Shao Yong said, “When winter reaches the mid-point of Phase I",1,0.07477005,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 The tooth turned towards Tendisai which was Thanjavur. That is all, Vandiyadhevan gave up the idea of staying in Thiruvaiyar. He decided to go after the university. If he had made such a decision, it was not known to him at that time. All he knew for sure was that there was a Madurantaka deity in Pallak. The disgust he had experienced over and over grew a little more. Perhaps he would gain an opportunity to meet the prince, later on. ","But with good credit, you might find exactly what you need.",1,0.07477005,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 40 He laughed. The clothing he wore was cut according to the new fashion, with close-fitting hose and a snug, short cote-hardi, which reached only to mid-thigh and was fastened with tiny brass buttons all the way down the front, revealing with almost unseemly boldness the supple power of his body. It didn’t suit his damaged face. But he was the handsomest of men in terms of bearing, now that he was full-grown. My position on his estate is much like that of Ulf back home with us.” ","You have never asked me what I have experienced and I have never told you. I wanted it then. I did not know why. But when I now sit here while everything is quiet, then I understand that it was precisely because it was to be so infinitely large (I dare [98] hardly believe it has happened) that it was to be so.",1,0.07585818,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 The prince took off his tin cross, Parfyon his gold one, and they exchanged them. Parfyon said nothing. With painful surprise, the prince noticed that the earlier mistrust, the earlier bitter and almost mocking smile still seemed to linger on the face of his sworn brother, for at certain moments, at least, it was still strongly evident. At length, in silence, Rogozhin took the prince’s hand and stood for a while as if hesitating about something; then he suddenly pulled the prince after him, saying in a barely audible voice: ‘Come on!’ They crossed the first floor landing and rang the bell of the door that faced the one from which they had emerged. It was quickly opened to them. A little old woman, hunched and all in black, her head bound with a kerchief, bowed deeply and silently to Rogozhin; he asked her some rapid question and, not stopping for an answer, led the prince further through the interior of the apartment. Again there was a sequence of dark rooms that displayed a peculiar, cold cleanliness, coldly and severely furnished with old furniture that was covered by clean, white sheets. Without any announcement, Rogozhin led the prince straight into a small room, similar to a drawing room, divided by a gleaming mahogany partition, with two doors at the sides, behind which there was probably a bedroom. In a corner of the drawing room, by the stove, in an armchair, sat a little old woman who did not look all that old, and even had a rather healthy, pleasant, round face, but was already completely grey-haired and (one could tell at first glance) had lapsed into complete childish senility. Her feet rested on a bench. She was in a black woolen dress, with a large black scarf around her neck, in a clean white cap with black ribbons. Beside her was another small, clean old woman, a little older than her, also dressed in mourning and also in a white cap, who must have been some kind of poor retainer, silently knitting a stocking. They probably both spent all their time in silence. At the sight of Rogozhin and the prince, the first old woman smiled to them and inclined her head affectionately several times as a sign of pleasure.","She wore a black woollen dress, with a large black kerchief at her neck, and a clean white cap with black ribbons. Her feet were supported by a footstool.",1,0.07585818,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 “The ignorance is awful,” Colonel Koshkaryov said in conclusion, “the darkness of the Middle Ages, and there is no possibility of remedying it , believe me there is not! In particular did he aver that, provided the Russian peasant could be induced to array himself in German costume, science would progress, trade increase, and the Golden Age dawn in Russia.","“Why, I myself have not had time to finish that book by the Duchesse de la Valliere!” Much else the Colonel said.",1,0.076407686,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 Astonished and delighted to hear my native language, and no less surprised at the young man ’s words , I told him that there were far greater misfortunes in the world than what he complained of. And to convince him of it, I gave him a short history of the horrible disasters that had happened to me; and, as soon as I had finished, I fainted again. He carried me in his arms to a neighbouring cottage, where he had me put to bed, gave me something to eat, waited on me with the greatest attention, comforted me, caressed me, told me that he had never seen anything so perfectly beautiful as myself, and that he had never so much regretted the loss of what no one could restore to him. “I was born at Naples,” he said, “where they castrate two or three thousand children every year; several die of the operation; some acquire voices far beyond the most tuneful of your ladies; and others are sent to govern states and empires.ah My operation was a great success, and I was one of the singers in the Princess of Palestrina’s chapel.” “In my mother’s chapel!” I exclaimed. “The Princess of Palestrina, your mother!” cried he, bursting into a flood of tears. “You must be the beautiful young princess whom I raised till she was six years old, and who at that tender age promised to be as fair as you are now?” “I am the same,” I replied: “my mother lies about a hundred yards from here, cut in pieces, and buried under a heap of dead bodies.”",- From my mother!,1,0.07696084,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 It was from that moment that I realized that besides being a lackey, I was a coward, too, and my real development began!"" ""Well, I see through you once and for all from this minute,"" cried Tatyana Pavlovna, jumping up from her seat, and so suddenly, that I was utterly unprepared for it; "" yes, you were not only a lackey then, you are a lackey now; you've the soul of a lackey! Why should not Andrey Petrovitch have apprenticed you to a shoemaker? it would have been an act of charity to have taught you a trade! Who would have expected more than that of him? Your father, Makar Ivanovich, not only asked, but almost demanded that you, his children, not be removed from the lower classes. No, you don't appreciate that he brought you to the university and that through him you got your rights. The boys, you see, they teased him, so he swore to take revenge on humanity ... You scoundrel!""","Your father, Makar Ivanovitch, asked— in fact, he insisted—that you, his children, should not be brought up to be above your station. Why, you think nothing of his having educated you for the university, and that through him you have received class rights. The little rascals teased him, to be sure, so he has sworn to avenge himself on humanity… .",1,0.07751766,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 Oh, this, of course, was not the descent in which he, according to his promise, will appear at the end of time in all the glory of heaven and which will be suddenly, ""like lightning shining from east to west. "" No, he longed to visit his children at least for a moment, and exactly where the fires of the heretics crackled. By his immeasurable mercy, he once again passes between people in the same human image in which he walked three years between people fifteen centuries ago. He condescends to the ""hot stoves"" of the southern city, in which, just the day before, in the ""magnificent auto-dafe"", in the presence of the king, court, knights, cardinals and the most charming ladies of the court, with a large population of the whole of Seville, was burned by the cardinal the grand inquisitor at once not a whole hundred heretics ad majorem gloriam Dei. [21] He appeared quietly, imperceptibly, and now everyone - strangely enough - recognizes him. This could be one of the best passages of the poem, that is, why they recognize him. The people with an invincible force strives for him, surrounds him, grows around him, follows him. He silently walks among them with a quiet smile of infinite compassion. The sun of love burns in his heart, rays of Light, Enlightenment and Power flow from his eyes and, pouring out on people, shake their hearts with reciprocal love. He stretches out his hands to them, blesses them, and from touching him, even only to his clothes, comes healing power. An old man, blind from childhood, exclaims from the crowd: ""Lord, heal me, and I will see you too,"" and now, as it were, scales come off his eyes, and the blind man sees him. The people are crying and kissing the ground on which they walk. Children throw flowers in front of him, sing and cry out to him: ""Hosanna!"" “This is him, this is himself,” everyone repeats, “this must be him, this is no one like him.” He stops at the porch of the Seville Cathedral at the very moment when a child's open white coffin is brought into the church with crying: it contains a seven-year-old girl, the only daughter of a noble citizen. The dead child is covered in flowers. “He will resurrect your child,” cry from the crowd of the crying mother. The cathedral priest, who has come out to meet the coffin, looks in bewilderment and frowns. But then the cry of the mother of the dead child is heard. She throws herself at his feet: ""If it is you, then raise my child!"" She exclaims, stretching out her hands to him. The procession stops, the coffin is lowered onto the porch at his feet. He looks with compassion, and his lips quietly and once again say: ""Talifa kumi"" - ""and the girl revolts. "" The girl rises in the coffin, sits down and looks around, smiling, surprised with open eyes. In her hands is a bouquet of white roses, with which she lay in the coffin. There is confusion among the people, screams, sobs, and now, at that very moment, the Cardinal Grand Inquisitor himself suddenly walks past the cathedral across the square. This is an almost ninety-year-old man, tall and erect, with a withered face, with sunken eyes, but from which a shine still glows like a fiery spark. Oh, he is not in his magnificent cardinal robes, in which he flaunted yesterday before the people when the enemies of the Roman faith were burned - no, at this moment he is only in his old, rough monastic cassock. Behind him, at a certain distance, are followed by his gloomy assistants and servants and his ""sacred"" guard. He stops in front of the crowd and watches from afar. He saw everything, he saw how they put the coffin at his feet, saw how the girl was resurrected, and his face darkened. He frowns his thick gray eyebrows, and his gaze sparkles with ominous fire. He stretches out his finger and orders the guards to take it. And so, such is his strength and the people are already accustomed, submissive and anxiously obedient to him, that the crowd immediately moves apart before the guards, and those, in the midst of the deathly silence that suddenly came, lay hands on him and take him away. The crowd instantly, all as one person, bows their heads to the ground before the elder inquisitor, he silently blesses the people and passes by. The guards lead the prisoner into a narrow and gloomy vaulted prison in the ancient building of the Holy Judgment and lock him up in it. The day passes, the dark, hot and ""breathless"" Seville night comes. The air smells like laurel and lemon. In the midst of the deep darkness, the iron door of the prison suddenly opens, and the old man himself, the Grand Inquisitor, with a lamp in his hand, slowly enters the prison. He is alone, the door immediately locks behind him. He stops at the entrance and for a long time, a minute or two, peers into his face. Finally he quietly approaches, puts the lamp on the table and says to him: “Is that you? Receiving no answer, however, he quickly adds: “No, do not reply, keep silent. You?” And what could you say? I know too much what you’re going to say. Yes, you have no right to add anything to what you have already said before. Why did you come to interfere with us? For you came to interfere with us and you yourself know it. But do you know what will happen tomorrow? I don’t know who you are, and I don’t want to know: is it you or just his likeness, but tomorrow I will condemn you and burn you at the stake, as the most evil of heretics, and the very people who kissed your feet today, tomorrow by At one stroke of mine, she will rush to scoop up coals to your fire, do you know that? Yes, perhaps you know that, ”he added in heartfelt thought, not for a moment looking up from his captive.","you? - But, not receiving an answer, he quickly adds: - Don't answer, keep quiet.",1,0.078642376,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 All the monks got up and looked forward. The doors, windows and fans outside the meditation hall were not even half burned. What's on fire there? You go to the front to see the meditation hall, and then talk! Everyone was terrified, and then they recognized that Sanzang was a monk, and the practitioner was the guardian of the Dharma.","Landing on Flower-Fruit at sunrise, he heard a voice in a nearby valley. Approaching, he saw that it was Monkey addressing a host of twelve hundred monkeys, all of whom were busy kowtowing. Impressed but also nervous about encountering Monkey again, Pigsy tried to go undercover by creeping into the kowtowing throng. Monkey spotted the intruder instantly and ordered his swarm of monkeys to drag him up to the front.",1,0.078642376,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 40 I read that every day in two terrible eyes that constantly look at me, even when they are not before me. Pay no attention to that, I almost do not exist now and I know it; God knows what lives in me in place of me. His house is gloomy, dreary, and there is a secret in it. I am sure that hidden in a drawer he has a razor, wound in silk, like the one that Moscow murderer had; that one also lived in the same house with his mother and also tied silk around his razor in order to cut a certain throat. For my own, naturally, then everything will be resolved for me, I told myself that long ago … I have heard that your sister Adelaida once said of my portrait that one could overturn the world with such beauty. But I have renounced the world; do you find it funny to hear that from me, meeting me in lace and diamonds, with drunkards and scoundrels? Those eyes are silent now (they are always silent), but I know their secret. “Why do I want to unite the two of you: for your sake or for my own? All the time I was in their house it seemed to me that somewhere, under a floor-board, by his father, perhaps, was hidden a corpse, covered with an oilcloth, like that Moscow fellow, and also surrounded by bottles of Zhdanov fluid,1 I could even show you the spot. He keeps his silence; but I know he loves me so much that he cannot possibly prevent himself from hating me. Your wedding and my wedding - together: that is what he and I have arranged. I have no secrets from him. I would kill him out of fear ... But he will kill me first ... he began to laugh just now and said I was raving; he knows that I am writing to you.’","‘Why do I want to unite the two of you: is it for you or for myself? For myself, of course, it would bring the solution to all my difficulties, I told myself that long ago ... I heard that your sister, Adelaida, said of my portrait one day that with such beauty one could turn the world upside down. But I have renounced the world; do you find it comical to hear that from me, meeting me in lace and diamonds, with drunkards and scoundrels? Don’t pay any attention to that, I hardly exist any more, and I know it; God knows what lives in me instead of me. I read it every day in two dreadful eyes that constantly look at me, even when they are not before me. Those eyes are silent now (they are always silent), but I know their secret. His house is dark and tedious, and there is a secret in it. I am certain that hidden in a drawer he has a razor wrapped in silk, like that Moscow murderer; he also lived in the same house as his mother and also bound a razor in silk, to cut someone’s throat.",1,0.078642376,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 20 Is it possible, is it permissible to be friends with such riffraff as your inseparable Liputin?"" Instead of standing nobly as a witness, of continuing to be an example, you've surrounded yourself with some riffraff, you've acquired some impossible habits, you've grown decrepit, you cannot live without wine and cards, you read nothing but Paul de Kock, and you write nothing, while there they all write; you waste all your time on chatter. Oh, how you torment me! ... What will they see? I wished these people to feel respect for you, because they're not worth your finger, your little finger, and look how you carry yourself! What am I going to show them? Oh, God, how you've gone to seed! ""Now that all these Lembkes, all these Karmazinovs...","- Now, when all these Lembkas, all these Karmazinovs ... Oh my God, how you have sunk! Oh, how you torment me! .. I would like these people to feel respect for you, because they are not worth your finger, your little finger, and how do you behave? What will they see? What will I show them? Instead of standing nobly as a witness, continuing as an example, you surround yourself with some kind of bastard, you have acquired some impossible habits, you have become decrepit, you cannot do without wine and cards, you read nothing but Paul de Coq and nothing write while they all write there; all your time is spent talking. Is it possible, is it permissible to be friends with such a bastard as your inseparable Liputin?",1,0.078642376,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 In the course of the night of this day, she had been sitting with P’ing Erh by lamp-light clasping the hand-stove; and weary of doing her work of embroidery, she had at an early hour, given orders to warm the embroidered quilt, and both had gone to bed; and as she was bending her fingers, counting the progress of the journey, and when they should be arriving, unexpectedly, the third watch struck. P’ing Erh had already fallen fast asleep; and lady Feng was feeling at length her sleepy eyes slightly dose, when she faintly discerned Mrs. Ch’in walk in from outside. “My dear sister-in-law,” she said as she smiled, “sleep in peace; I’m on my way back to-day, and won’t even you accompany me just one stage? But as you and I have been great friends all along, Since you cannot come to me, I have come to you instead. We two have always been so close, I could not have borne to leave you without saying good-bye. There is, besides, a wish of mine, which isn’t yet accomplished; and if I don’t impart it to you, it isn’t likely that telling any one else will be of any use.”","I cannot part from you, sister-in-law, and have therefore come to take my leave of you.",1,0.08035747,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 Selifan was even given certain household instructions about getting all the newly resettled serfs together in order to have a roll call. In such fashion did the Public Prosecutor’s droshky get him at last to his inn, where for a long while yet all sorts of nonsense kept coming to the tip of his tongue: about a flaxen-fair bride with rosy-red cheeks and a little dimple on the right one, about villages in Kherson, about lots of capital. Never had Chichikov felt himself in so jolly a mood; by this time he imagined he really was a landowner of Kherson; he spoke of various improvements, of the scientific rotation of crops, of the happiness and bliss of twin souls, and began reciting to Sobakevich Werther’s versified epistle to Charlotte, in answer to which Sobakevich only batted his eyes as he sat in his easy chair, since after the sturgeon he felt a great tendency to sleep.2 Chichikov even surmised himself that he was become too expansive, asked for a carriage, and gladly availed himself of the Public Prosecutor’s droshky. Selifan listened in silence for a very long while and then went out of the room, after saying to Petrushka: “Go and undress the master!” The Public Prosecutor’s coachman, as it turned out on the way, was an experienced lad, since he directed the reins with only one hand, while with the other hand placed behind him, he kept the gentleman right end up. Petrushka began taking Chichikov’s boots off and almost dragged his master to the floor together with them.","Tchitchikov had never felt so merry, he imagined himself already a genuine Kherson landowner, talked of various improvements he meant to make, of the three-field system of cropping, of the bliss and happiness of two kindred souls, and began repeating to Sobakevitch Werther’s letter in verse to Charlotte,cd on which the latter merely blinked as he sat in an armchair, for after the sturgeon he felt a great inclination for sleep. Tchitchikov perceived himself that he had begun to be a little too expansive, he asked for his carriage, and accepted the offer of the prosecutor’s racing droshky. The prosecutor’s coachman was, as it turned out on the way, an efficient and experienced fellow, for he drove with one hand only, while he held the gentleman on with the other hand thrust out behind him. It was in this fashion that our hero arrived at his hotel, where his tongue still went on babbling all sorts of nonsense about a fair-haired bride with a rosy complexion and a dimple in her right cheek, estates in Kherson, and investments. Selifan even received some orders in regard to the management of the estate, he was told to collect together all the newly settled peasants that they might all answer to a roll-call. Selifan listened for a long time in silence and then went out of the room, saying to Petrushka: “Go and undress the master!” Petrushka set to work to pull off his boots and nearly pulled his master on to the floor with them.",1,0.08035747,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 I shall go with the Devarāja to the Region Above to make our report, while all of you make a thorough search of the mountain here. What have I accomplished?” After you have cleaned it out, go back to the River of Libations. Let us take this fellow up to the Jade Emperor to see what will be done with him.” “Worthy Brothers,” said the Immortal Master, “you may not have a personal audience with the Jade Emperor because you have not received any divine appointment. Let the celestial guardians take him into custody. The Brothers Kang, Zhang, Yao, and Li said, “Elder Brother need have no further discussion.","Is there any?"" Kang, Zhang, Yao, and Li said, ""You don't need to tell me more about your brother, but let this fellow go to the upper realm to see the Jade Emperor, and ask the decree to be sent."" Recorded, not allowed to meet the Jade Emperor. Teach the heavenly armor to be held by the gods, and I will wait for the last decree with the heavenly king. You handsome people are here to search the mountain, and after the search is complete, you will still return to the mouth. Good work, come back and have fun.",1,0.080936715,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 In fact, I had broken my word, and it was Virgilia's fault. Jealousy issue. This splendid woman knew she was, and she liked to hear him say it, whether aloud or low. The day before, at the baroness's house, he had waltzed twice with the same mischief, after listening to her courtesies, in the corner of a window. I was so happy! When she spied an interrogative and threatening wrinkle between my eyebrows, she was not startled, nor did she grow suddenly serious; but she threw the dandy and his affected courtesies overboard. So expansive! So self-assured! She came over to me, took my arm, and guided me to another, less populated room, where she complained of fatigue and said many other things with the childish air that she normally had on such occasions, as I listened while making almost no reply. ","So spilled! So full of you! When he discovered, between my eyebrows, the questioning and threatening frown, he did not start, nor did he suddenly become serious; but he threw the mischief and the courtesies into the sea. Then he came to me, took my arm, and led me to another room, less populated, where he complained of tiredness, and said many other things, with the childish air he used to have on certain occasions, and I heard -a almost without answering anything.",1,0.08151975,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 I was just having coffee at Madame Käselau's nearby; they are pleasant people, and our neighbors on the left, named Gußmann (but the houses are quite far apart), are sociable people. We have a couple of good family friends who both also live out here: Doctor Klaassen (whom I'll have to tell you about later) and banker Kesselmeyer, Grünlich's intimate friend. You won't believe what a funny old gentleman that is! He has trimmed white whiskers and thin black-and-white hair that looks like feathers and flutters in every breeze. Since he also has funny head movements like a bird and is quite talkative, I always call him ""the magpie""; but Grünlich forbids me to do so, because he says the magpie steals, but Herr Kesselmeyer is a man of honour. He has such a merry way about him. He walks all hunched over and rows with his arms. The goose down reaches only about halfway down the back of his neck, and his nape is bright red and all wrinkly. Sometimes he pats my cheek and says, What a good little wife, Grünlich can count his blessings that he got you! Then he pulls out a pair of pince-nez (he always has three of them with him, on long cords that keep getting tangled on his white waistcoat), slaps them on his nose, which he crinkles all over, and gapes at me like that happily that I laugh out loud in his face. But he doesn't mind that at all.","When walking, he bends down and flails his arms. His downy feathers only go halfway down the back of his head, and from there his neck is all red and cracked. There's something so very happy about him! Sometimes he slaps me on the cheek and says: You good little woman, what a godsend for Grünlich that he got you!",1,0.08151975,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 I won’t ever be either handsome or famous. I won’t come walking from the small town into the capital. I won’t be either a military leader or a people’s commissar, or a scholar, or an adventurer. I dreamed my whole life of an extraordinary love. Soon I’ll return to my old apartment, to the room with the frightful bed. There’re dismal surroundings there: the widow Prokopovich. She’s about forty-five, but around the house they call her ‘Annechka.’ She cooks dinner for the barbers’ artel. In the dark cavity is a slab. She feeds the cats. Once I slipped, stepping on someone's heart - small and tightly shaped like a chestnut. She walks entangled in cats and animal sinews. She set up a kitchen in the hallway. She tosses them some offal. Quiet thin cats take off behind her hands with galvanic movements. The floor is therefore decorated, as it were, with mother-of-pearl spitting. A knife sparkles in her hand. She tears through intestines with her elbows like a princess through a cobweb.","She’s set up a kitchen in the corridor. In a dark cavity is a stove. She feeds cats. Silent, slender cats fly up after her hands with electrodynamic movements. She strews some sort of giblets to them. Because of this the floor is sort of decorated with mother-of-pearl spit splashes. Once I slipped, having stepped on something’s heart–small and tightly formed like a chestnut. She walks enmeshed in cats and the blood vessels of animals.",1,0.08329193,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 she added tearfully. Look, Andrei Ivanovich is coming!",One snowball he threw--it achieved a miss; a second snowball he threw--it achieved the same; and just as he was seizing a third his face became converted into one large clot of snow.,1,0.083890386,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 - Excuse me, Varvara Ardalionovna, I continue. Of course, I can neither love nor respect the prince; but this man is resolutely kind, though... funny. But there would be absolutely no reason for me to hate him; I did not show your brother when he himself incited me against the prince; I just expected to laugh at the denouement. I knew that your brother would let me know and miss in the highest degree. And so it happened... I am now ready to spare him, but only out of respect for you, Varvara Ardalionovna. But, having explained to you that I am not so easy to catch on a bait, I will also explain to you why I so wanted to make your brother a fool before me. Know that I did this out of hatred, I confess frankly. But you are infinitely envious; you are firmly convinced that you are the greatest of geniuses, but all the same, doubt visits you occasionally in your darkest moments, and you become angry and envious. In dying (because I shall die all the same, even though I’ve grown fatter, as you assure me), in dying, I have felt that I would go to paradise incomparably more peacefully if I managed to make a fool out of at least one of that numberless sort of people who have hounded me all my life, whom I have hated all my life, and of whom your much-esteemed brother serves as such a vivid representation. I hate you, Gavrila Ardalionovich, solely because—this may seem astonishing to you—solely because you are the type and embodiment, the personification and apex of the most impudent, the most self-satisfied, the most vulgar and vile ordinariness! Not the least idea of your own will ever be embodied in your mind or in your heart. You are a puffed-up ordinariness, an unquestioning and Olympianly calm ordinariness; you are the routine of routines! Oh, you have more black dots on the horizon; they will pass when you become completely stupid, which is not far away; but all the same, you have a long and varied path ahead of you, I won’t say a fun one, and I’m glad about it. First, I predict that you will not reach a famous person ...","Dying (because I’m still going to die, even though I’ve gotten fatter, as you assert), dying, I felt that I would go to paradise incomparably more calmly if I managed to fool at least one representative of that innumerable class of people who had pursued me all my life, who I have hated all my life and whom your esteemed brother serves as such a convex image. I hate you, Gavrila Ardalionovich, solely because—this may seem surprising to you—solely because you are the type and incarnation, the personification and height of the most insolent, the most self-satisfied, the most vulgar and vile ordinary! You are a pompous ordinary, an undoubted ordinary and olympic calm; you are a routine of routines! Not the slightest idea of your own is destined to be embodied either in your mind or in your heart ever. But you are infinitely envious; you are firmly convinced that you are the greatest genius, but doubt still visits you sometimes in dark moments, and you are angry and envious.",1,0.083890386,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 Although the spiritual merits of a salon and its elegance are generally inversely related rather than directly related, it must be believed, since Swann found Madame Bontemps agreeable, that any decline accepted has the effect of making people less difficult about those with whom they are resigned to pleasing themselves, less difficult on their minds as on the rest. And if this is true, men must, like peoples, see their culture and even their language disappear with their independence. One of the effects of this indulgence is to aggravate the tendency that, from a certain age, we have to find pleasant the words which are a tribute to our own turn of mind, to our inclinations, an encouragement to indulge in them. ; that age is when a great artist prefers to the society of original geniuses that of pupils who have in common with him only the letter of his doctrine and by whom he is praised, listened to; where a remarkable man or woman who lives for a love will find the most intelligent in a meeting the person who may be inferior, but whose one sentence will have shown that she knows how to understand and approve of what a life dedicated to gallantry is, and will thus have pleasantly tickled the voluptuous tendency of the lover or mistress; it was also the age when Swann, as he had become Odette's husband, liked to hear Madame Bontemps say that it was ridiculous to receive only duchesses (concluding from this, on the contrary to what he would have done long ago with the Verdurins, that she was a good woman, very witty and not a snob) and to tell her stories that made her ""twist"" because she did not know them. and which, moreover, she ""seized"" quickly, loving to flatter and amuse herself. "" Then the doctor isn't as fond of flowers as you are,"" Madame Swann asked Madame Cottard. - Oh ! you know that my husband is a sage; he is moderate in all things. If, however, he has a passion. Eyes shining with malevolence, joy and curiosity: “Which one, madam?” asked Madame Bontemps. ‘Reading, Mme Cottard replied in her artless way. - Oh ! it is a passion of all rest in a husband! exclaimed Madame Bontemps, stifling a satanic laugh. – When the doctor is in a book, you know! – Well, Madame, that shouldn't frighten you very much… – But it does!… for his eyesight. I'll go find him, Odette, and I'll come back the first day knocking at your door. Speaking of views, have you been told that the mansion Madame Verdurin has just bought will be lit by electricity? I don't get it from my little private police, but from another source: the electrician himself, Mildé, told me. You see that I quote my authors! Up to the rooms which will have their electric lamps with a lampshade which will filter the light. This is obviously a charming luxury. Moreover, our contemporaries absolutely want something new, even if it is no longer in the world. There is the sister-in-law of one of my friends who has the phone at home! She can place an order with a supplier without leaving her apartment! I admit that I flatly intrigued to have permission to come and speak in front of the device one day. It tempts me a lot, but rather at a friend's house than at my house. It seems to me that I would not like to have the telephone at home. The first fun passed, it must be a real headache. Come on, Odette, I'm running away, don't hold back Madame Bontemps any longer since she's taking care of me , I absolutely must tear myself away, you're making me look pretty, I'll be home after my husband! »","With simplicity, Mrs. Cottard replied: “Reading.",1,0.08449275,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 40 Candide was very pleased with an actress who played Queen Elizabeth in a rather dull tragedy that is sometimes played. ' This actress,' he said to Martin, 'pleases me very much; she looks like Miss Cunégonde; I would be happy to greet her. The Perigordian abbé offered to introduce her to her room. Candide, brought up in Germany, asked what the etiquette was, and how the queens of England were treated in France. ""We must distinguish,"" said the abbé; in the provinces, they are taken to the cabaret; in Paris, they are respected when they are beautiful, and they are thrown into the garbage when they are dead. — Queens on the road! said Candide. "" Yes, really,"" said Martin; Monsieur l'abbé is right: I was in Paris when Mademoiselle Monime passed, as they say, from this life to the other; he was refused what these people call the honors of burial , that is to say, to rot with all the beggars of the neighborhood in an ugly cemetery; she was buried alone with her band at the corner of the rue de Bourgogne; which must have pained her extremely, for she thought very nobly. ""That's very impolite,"" said Candide. - What do you want? said Martin; these people are like that. Imagine all the contradictions, all the possible incompatibilities, you will see them in the government, in the courts, in the churches, in the shows of this strange nation. ""Is it true that people always laugh in Paris?"" said Candide. "" Yes,"" said the abbé, ""but he is furious; for they complain of everything with great bursts of laughter; and even the most detestable actions are performed there while laughing.",—What do you expect?,1,0.08449275,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 Many sprang up from the table, upsetting their chairs, many, pallid, ran towards the reading-room, and in every language it was asked: ""What--what's the matter? "" None answered intelligibly, nobody understood, for even to-day people are more surprised at death than at anything else, and never want to believe it is true. The proprietor rushed from one guest to another, trying to keep back those who were hastening up, to soothe them with assurances that it was a mere trifle, a fainting-fit that had overcome a certain Gentleman from San Francisco.... But no one heeded him. Many saw how the porters and waiters were tearing off the tie, waistcoat, and crumpled dress-coat from that same gentleman, even, for some reason or other, pulling off his patent evening-shoes from his black-silk, flat-footed feet. And he was still writhing. He continued to struggle with death, by no means wanting to yield to that which had so unexpectedly and rudely overtaken him. He rolled his head, rattled like one throttled, and turned up the whites of his eyes as if he were drunk. When he was hastily brought into Number Forty-three, —— the smallest, worst, dampest, and coldest room at the end of the lower corridor, —— and stretched on the bed, —— his daughter came running, her hair falling over her shoulders, the skirts of her dressing-gown thrown open, with bare breasts raised by the corset. Then came his wife, big, heavy, almost completely dressed for dinner, her mouth round with terror. But by that time he had already ceased rolling his head.","When he had been hastily carried into room No. 43, the smallest, wretchedest, dampest, and coldest room at the end of the bottom corridor, his daughter came running with her hair all loose, her dressing-gown flying open, showing her bosom raised by her corsets: then his wife, large and heavy and completely dressed for dinner, her mouth opened round with terror.",1,0.08449275,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 She learned that to please his brother, the Count de Chagny had been actively promoting her interests with M. Richard. She wrote to thank him but asked him not to speak up for her to the Directors any more. Why such curious behaviour? Some took it as a sign of overweening arrogance, others of angelic modesty. But no one who treads the boards can afford to be quite so modest. Indeed, I’m not sure if I shouldn’t simply put her actions down to one word: fear. I truly believe Christine Daaé was frightened of what had happened to her and was as stunned as everyone else. Stunned? Surely not! I have here a letter from Christine (Persan collection) which relates to the events of that time. Having reread it, I will not write that Christine was either stunned by or frightened of her triumph, but terrified of it. Yes: terrified! ‘I no longer know who I am when I sing!’ she says.",But I have here a letter (from the Persian’s private collection) which throws light on the events of that time.,1,0.08509905,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 And now it was he who pulled the other two, and they were so happy about his enthusiasm that they took turns carrying the suitcase without being asked, and Karl didn't quite understand how he was actually causing them such great joy. They were coming into an uphill region, and pausing here and there, looking back, they could see the panorama of New York and its harbor developing ever more extensively. It seemed to be carrying no traffic at all, and below it was the smooth unanimated ribbon of water. In the invisible canyons of the streets, life probably continued on its way, but above them there was nothing to be seen except a thin haze which didn’t move, but seemed easy enough to dispel. Everything in both metropolises seemed empty, useless construction. The bridge that connected New York with Boston lay slender across the Hudson, and trembled if you narrowed your eyes. Even in the harbour, the world’s largest, peace had returned, and only sporadically did one have the impression, probably influenced by earlier, closer views, that one could see a ship sliding forward a little. There was almost no distinction to be drawn between the big buildings and the little ones. But you couldn't follow it for long either, it eluded your eyes and could no longer be found.","The bridge that connects New York to Boston hung delicately across the Hudson and it trembled when you narrowed your eyes. It seemed to have no traffic at all, and beneath it stretched the inanimate, smooth ribbon of water. Everything in both giant cities seemed empty and useless. Among the houses there was little difference between the large and the small. In the invisible depths of the streets life was probably going on in its own way, but nothing could be seen above them but a light haze that didn't move, but seemed to dissipate without effort. Even in the harbour, the largest in the world, calm had fallen, and only here and there, probably influenced by the memory of an earlier close-up sight, did one seem to see a ship moving a short distance.",1,0.08570928,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 When Maxime was sounded out on the subject, he felt embarrassed. Louise amused him, and the dowry tempted him even more. He said yes, and agreed to all the dates that Saccard proposed, so as to avoid an argument. But he admitted to himself that, unfortunately, things would not fall into place so easily. Renée would never agree; she would cry, she would make scenes; she was capable of creating some great scandal that would astound Paris. It was very unpleasant. She frightened him now. She gave him terrible looks, she possessed him so despotically that he thought he could feel claws digging into his shoulder when she laid her white hand on it. Her unruliness turned to roughness, and there was a cracking sound beneath her laughter. He really feared that one night she would go mad in his arms. Remorse, the fear of being surprised, the cruel joys of adultery, did not manifest themselves in her as in other women, through tears and dejection, but in ever greater extravagance. And, in the midst of his growing bewilderment, one began to hear a death rattle, the disruption of this adorable and astonishing machine which was breaking. ","Amid her growing distraction, a rattling sound could be heard, the sound of a wonderful, bewildering machine beginning to break down.",1,0.08632348,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 I may be accused of improvidence, but at least no one can say that I am not straightforward. There was a certain legal problem that interested me here, and, although similar problems occur quite often in legal practice, I believe I have never seen this one appear so fully, with all its characteristic aspects, as here. The more I read and heard about this case, the more this impression was confirmed. And then one day the family of the accused approached me and asked me to handle his defense. This idea of mine is that, while I concede that the sum total of facts does point to the guilt of the accused, there is not one single fact that could be considered unassailable if taken individually. I accepted immediately and now I am completely convinced that my first impressions were absolutely correct. I should really have kept this point for the end of my speech, for my final summation, but I will explain my idea now, at the outset, because I have a weakness for going straight to the point, without trying to save any possible effect for later, without economizing my ammunition. “And this is just such as case,” he said, “for the very first newspaper reports suggested something to me that was very much in favor of the accused. He went straight to the point by announcing that, although he usually practiced in Petersburg, he sometimes agreed to go to other towns to defend people of whose innocence he was either certain or at least instinctively convinced. His speech can be roughly divided into two parts: first, the refutation of the accusation, during which he sometimes used sarcasm and sometimes malice; and the second part, in which he suddenly changed both his tone and his manner and quickly raised himself to the summits of pathos, and when this happened, the audience responded at once with a quiver of delight, as if they had all been waiting for just that.","His speech might be divided into two parts, the first consisting of criticism in refutation of the charge, sometimes malicious and sarcastic. But in the second half he suddenly changed his tone, and even his manner, and at once rose to pathos. The audience seemed on the look-out for it, and quivered with enthusiasm. He went straight to the point, and began by saying that although he practiced in Petersburg, he had more than once visited provincial towns to defend prisoners, of whose innocence he had a conviction or at least a preconceived idea. ""That is what has happened to me in the present case,"" he explained. ""From the very first accounts in the newspapers I was struck by something which strongly prepossessed me in the prisoner's favor. What interested me most was a fact which often occurs in legal practice, but rarely, I think, in such an extreme and peculiar form as in the present case. I ought to formulate that peculiarity only at the end of my speech, but I will do so at the very beginning, for it is my weakness to go to work directly, not keeping my effects in reserve and economizing my material. That may be imprudent on my part, but at least it's sincere. What I have in my mind is this: there is an overwhelming chain of evidence against the prisoner, and at the same time not one fact that will stand criticism, if it is examined separately. As I followed the case more closely in the papers my idea was more and more confirmed, and I suddenly received from the prisoner's relatives a request to undertake his defense. I at once hurried here, and here I became completely convinced.",1,0.08694165,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 Election festivals are held in Shiva temples. Despite all this, Tirumal's pride did not diminish. Kannan, the ninth perfect incarnation of Vishnumurti, has captured the hearts of the people. The leelas performed by Emperuman in Gokul, Vrindavan and North Madurai have taken root in their hearts. Mom! How many Bhagavad Gita! How many street plays! How many different costumes! - And the spectators who stood around watching, the din they created, had also increased. ",Yes; There were more now than we had ever seen before.,1,0.08694165,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 I didn't notice such a thing when I opened the shoji. That voice, when I saw the idea of running my ears-was over there. My eyes seek the place where my eager ears have already guessed the answer lies—and there it stands, a vague shadowy shape withdrawn from the moonlight, its back to the trunk of what, judging from the blossoms, might be an aronia tree. Before I have even an instant to try to comprehend what it is, the black shape turns and moves off to the right, trampling the shadow of the blossoms as it goes. Then a tall woman’s form slides fluidly around the corner, and the edge of the building that my own room is part of hides her instantly from sight. ","With a trunk that seems to be a sea basin if it is a flower, there was a shadow master who was dimly sneaking in the light of the moon. Even the consciousness that I thought was uncertain, the black one trampled the shadow of the flower and cut to the right. The corner of the ridge that continues to my room immediately blocks the slender figure of a tall woman.",1,0.088820286,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 40 From earliest dawn the house is astir as its inmates rise, walk about, and stamp their feet. That is to say, everyone who has to go to work then gets out of bed. First of all, tea is partaken of. Most of the tea-urns belong to the landlady; and since there are not very many of them, we have to wait our turn. Anyone who fails to do so will find his teapot emptied and put away. On the first occasion, that was what happened to myself. Well, is there anything else to tell you? Already I have made the acquaintance of the company here. The naval officer took the initiative in calling upon me, and his frankness was such that he told me all about his father, his mother, his sister (who is married to a lawyer of Tula), and the town of Kronstadt. Also, he promised me his patronage, and asked me to come and take tea with him. I kept the appointment in a room where card-playing is continually in progress; and, after tea had been drunk, efforts were made to induce me to gamble. Whether or not my refusal seemed to the company ridiculous I cannot say, but at all events my companions played the whole evening, and were playing when I left. The dust and smoke in the room made my eyes ache. I declined, as I say, to play cards, and was, therefore, requested to discourse on philosophy, after which no one spoke to me at all—a result which I did not regret. In fact, I have no intention of going there again, since every one is for gambling, and for nothing but gambling. Even the literary tchinovnik gives such parties in his room—though, in his case, everything is done delicately and with a certain refinement, so that the thing has something of a retiring and innocent air.","I will not go to them now; they have passion, pure passion!",1,0.0894546,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 80 As soon as they entered the throne room, Monkey ran up and with one magic breath restored Tripitaka to his true self. —Monkey remained focused on the here and now. While the king gushed at Tripitaka—Buddha this, Buddha that “But our master here will look much better once he’s exfoliated.” “Do you have that fiend’s address?","Instead, they hid them from us. Just now in the room next door, each had a fruit to himself and finished it with great relish. I got so excited that I was drooling, wondering how I could have a taste of this fruit. I know you are quite tricky. How about going to their garden and stealing a few for us to have a taste of them?” “That’s easy,” said Pilgrim.",1,0.09073549,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 20 At last, I was watching the students passing by, and I even wondered if there was a young and reliable person in them who would save me from the current boundaries. .. At the same time, although I am a self-disciplined person who has not received any discipline, I feel sorry for myself to become a last-minute possession. And it's not difficult to be taken care of by the end, and even if I don't benefit from the fact that I'm aiming for the end, I feel that I'm not sorry for the end. After that, it became more and more difficult for the ladle to treat the ladles, and the heart of the ladle became ignorant of the ladles. It was when she first became aware of imaginings of this nature that she started in surprise.","In her attitude toward Suezō she became increasingly warm as her heart grew increasingly distant. She no longer felt grateful for his favors or indebted to him, nor could she feel pity for him that this was so. It seemed to her that, for all her lack of fine upbringing and education, she was utterly wasted on such a person. Among the people passing by her window, she began to wonder, was there not some trustworthy young man who would rescue her from her present predicament?",1,0.09073549,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 “Hell,” said Pig, “We're all caught in a bag.” Monkey struck wildly at him with his club, only to be parried to left and right by the Great Immortal's whisk. “It doesn't matter, anyhow,” said Pig. After two or three rounds the Great Immortal did a “Wrapping Heaven and Earth in His Sleeve” trick, waving his sleeve gently in the breeze as he stood amid the clouds, then sweeping it across the ground and gathering up the four pilgrims and their horse in it. “I can make a hole in it with a single blow of my rake that we can all get through. Then we'll be able to drop out when he relaxes his grip on us.” “It isn't a bag, you idiot,” said Monkey, “he's caught us all in his sleeve.” He met Monkey unarmed With only a jade-handled whisk in his hands.","Those who greeted him had no weapons, and only held Yuchen in his hands. The walker is neither high nor low, and beats with sticks. Daxian covered Yuchen from left to right, and took him for two or three rounds. Using a means of heaven and earth in his sleeve, he gently unfolded his robe sleeves against the wind in the clouds, brushed the ground, and caged the four monks with horses and one sleeve. live. Bajie said: ""It's not good! We are all in Lalu!"" Walker said: ""Idiot, it's not Lalu, we are trapped in our sleeves by him."" Bajie said: ""It doesn't matter, wait for me. Immediately nail the palladium, build a hole for him, take it off and go down, only to say that he was not careful, the cage was not strong, and he was hanged.",1,0.09073549,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 The benefits and harms are not clear, so it's too early to see how many times. , why not go on a boat and climb the mountain of Emei, and follow Chisongzi travel?"" Death: Isn't the fame of the two sons impressive? Now that the Duke of Daxun has arrived, and his master has been shaken Wei said: ""In the past, Han Xin did not listen to Kuaitong's words, and he was in trouble at the Weiyang Palace; the doctor did not follow Fan Li in Wuhu, and died under his sword. He asked Jiang Wei to say: ""Today I am taking advantage of my life's wish."" Hui laughed and said, ""Your words are bad: I'm not in my forties, and I'm just thinking about making progress, how can I do the same thing?""","“Today I have attained the one desire of my life,” cried Zhong Hui. Jiang Wei replied, “At the beginning of Han, Han Xin hearkened not to Kuai Tong to establish his own kingdom, and so blundered into trouble at the Weiyang Palace, where he met his fate. In Yue, High Minister Wen Zhong would not follow Fan Li into retirement on the lakes, and so fell victim to a sword. No one would say these two—Han Xin and Wen Zhong—were not brilliant, but they did not scent danger early enough. Now, Sir, your merit is great and your prestige overwhelming that of your prince, but why do you risk future dangers? Why not sail off in a boat leaving no trace of your going? Why not go to Mount Omi and wander free with Master Red-Pine?” Zhong Hui smiled. “I do not think your advice much to the point. I am a young man, not forty yet, and think rather of going on than halting. I could not take up a do-nothing hermit's life.”",1,0.091382116,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 I did not have to wait long. The next day, as I was composing an elegy, biting my pen in the hope of finding a rhyme, Shvabrin came and tapped on the wall just beneath my window. I put down my pen, took my sword, and went out to join him. “Why wait any longer?” "" We set off in silence. Let's go to the river. Why delay?"" Descending a steep path, we stopped at the very edge of the river and drew our swords. Shvabrin told me, “They don’t look after us. No one will stop us there. Shvabrin was the better swordsman, but I was stronger and bolder and I was able to make good use of the fencing lessons I had once had from Monsieur Beaupré. Shvabrin had clearly not expected me to be such a dangerous opponent. For a long time neither of us was able to inflict any injury upon the other; at last, realizing that Shvabrin was weakening, I began to advance on him energetically and almost drove him into the river. Just then I heard someone calling my name. I looked round and saw Savelich running down the path towards me. At that moment I felt a sharp pain in my chest, just below my right shoulder; I fell to the ground and passed out.","he asked. “We’re not being watched. Let’s go down to the river. No one will interfere with us there.” We set off in silence. After climbing down a steep little path, we stopped by the very edge of the river and drew our swords.",1,0.09203287,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 ‘That seems to me, Sancho,’ said Don Quixote, ‘rather like what happened to a famous poet of our time,2 who wrote a malicious satire against all courtesans but did not include or name a certain lady about whom it could be doubted whether she was one of them or not; and seeing that she wasn’t on the list she complained to the poet, asked what he thought was wrong with her to make him fail to include her with the others, and told him to extend his satire and put her into the extension - and if not, he’d better watch out for himself. The poet did what she had demanded, and threw mud at her to his heart’s content, and she was well pleased to find herself famous for being infamous. Another relevant story is the one about the shepherd who set fire to the celebrated temple of Diana, one of the seven wonders of the world, and razed it to the ground, so that his name would live in future ages; and even though it was ordered that he should never be named and no mention should ever be made of him in speech or in writing, to prevent him from achieving his aim, it emerged that he was called Erostratus. Also relevant is the story about the great Emperor Charles V and a certain gentleman in Rome. The Emperor went to visit the Rotunda, which in antiquity was called the temple of all the gods and is now better dedicated, to all the saints, and is the best-preserved building of all those that were erected in pagan Rome, the one that most fully evinces the grandeur and magnificence of its founders. It takes the form of half an enormous orange, and it is brilliantly lit, even though the only light comes in through a window or rather a round lantern at the top, from which the Emperor surveyed the building by the side of a Roman gentleman who detailed all the subtlety and skill of that splendid construction and that memorable architecture; and when they had descended from the lantern, this gentleman said to the Emperor: ‘“A thousand times, Most Sacred Majesty, I felt the urge to clasp you in my arms and hurl myself down with you from that lantern, to win eternal fame for myself.” ""I thank you,"" replied the emperor, ""for not having put such a bad thought into effect, and from now on I will not put you on the occasion that you will again prove your loyalty; And thus, I command you never to speak to me, nor be where I am. '' And, after these words, he did him a great favor. ‘What I am saying, Sancho, is that the desire for fame is a powerful motivator. What was it, do you think, that cast Horatius down from the bridge, wearing full armour, into the depths of the Tiber? What put Mucius’s hand and arm to the fire? What impelled Curtius to hurl himself into the gulf of flames that opened up in the middle of Rome?3 What, in the face of all the adverse omens, made Caesar cross the Rubicon?4 And to turn to more recent examples, what scuttled the ships and left the brave Spaniards led by courteous Cortés stranded and isolated in the New World?5 All these and many other great deeds were, are and shall be the work of fame, desired by mortals as the reward, the taste of immortality, that their exploits earn for them, even though we knights errant, Christian and Catholic, must be more concerned with the glory of the life to come, to be enjoyed throughout eternity in the ethereal and celestial regions, than with the vanity of the fame that can be achieved in this present transient life; for this fame, however long it lasts, will end when the world ends, at the time appointed. And so, O Sancho, our works must not stray beyond the limits imposed by the Christian religion that we profess. In slaying giants, we must slay pride; in our generosity and magnanimity, we must slay envy; in our tranquil demeanour and serene disposition, we must slay anger; in eating as little as we do and keeping vigil as much as we do, we must slay gluttony and somnolence; in our faithfulness to those whom we have made the mistresses of our thoughts, we must slay lewdness and lust; in wandering all over the world in search of opportunities to become famous knights as well as good Christians, we must slay sloth.6 Here, Sancho, you have the means by which the high praise brought by fame can be achieved.’","‘“I am grateful to you,” the Emperor replied, “for not having put so wicked a thought into execution, and henceforth I shall avoid placing you in a position which is such a test for your loyalty: so I command you never to speak to me again, and never to be where I am.” ‘And with these words he made him a handsome present.",1,0.09401018,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 But I once quarreled with him and will not let him have the last word as long as possible. His foolhardiness made him dizzy, and you could see it. Of course he'll have it, but that doesn't matter, I'll still benefit from it. I will tease him.” He added to his objection: It's going to be outrageous. ""What am I talking about?"" he thought. ' {378}""What do you have against that body?"" Hans Castorp quickly interrupted him and looked at him wide with his blue eyes, the whites of which were streaked with red veins.","Whether that protest survives in you, as you comply with the behests of our powers that be—whether it is not rather the body, the body and its evil propensities, to which you lend a ready ear—” “What have you against the body?” interrupted Hans Castorp suddenly, and looked at him with wide blue eyes, the whites of which were veined with blood. He was giddy with his own temerity and showed as much.—Whatever am I saying? he thought. I’m getting out of my depth. But I won’t give way; now I have begun, I won’t give him the last word if I can help it. Of course he will have it anyhow, but never mind, I will make the most of it while I can.—He enlarged upon his objection:",1,0.09401018,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 What irritates me most are the deplorable social conditions. I know as well as anyone else how necessary it is that there be differences in rank, and how much this is to my advantage. All I ask is that it should not stand in my way when there is a small chance of my enjoying myself, or a glimmer of hope that I may still know happiness on this earth. A few days ago, while I was out walking, I made the acquaintance of a Fräulein von B., a charming creature who has somehow managed to remain natural in spite of the formalities of life here. We enjoyed our conversation, and when we parted I asked for permission to call on her. She is not a native of this place, but resides here with her aunt. She consented in so obliging a manner, that I waited with impatience for the arrival of the happy moment. The countenance of the old lady is not prepossessing. I paid her a great deal of attention; almost everything I said was directed at her. But in little less than half an hour I realized what the young lady admitted later—that her dear aunt, with nothing but an inadequate fortune at her disposal and even less intellect, finds sustenance solely in her lineage and security only behind the ramparts of her rank, which is her castle, and takes pleasure in nothing but looking down her nose at the lower classes. In her youth she was beautiful and frittered her life away, at first by making many a young man miserable with her capriciousness; later, in her maturer years, she was completely under the thumb of an old army officer who, in return for having married her and a tolerable maintenance, was her companion in her bronze age, and died. Now, in her iron age, she finds herself alone and no one would pay her any heed if her niece were not so kind.",She said that I might so unreservedly that I could scarcely wait for the proper time to elapse until I could visit her. She is not from these parts and lives with an aunt. I did not like the looks of the old lady.,1,0.09401018,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 Don't cry, Gregory, we will smash him into smoke and dust in a minute. Tell me this, donkey: let you be right in front of the torturers, but you yourself have nevertheless renounced your faith in yourself and you yourself say that at that very hour the curse was anathema, and if it was anathema, so you for this anathema they will not pat the head in hell. Oh you casuist! But only you lie, casuist, lie, lie and lie. It was he who was with the Jesuits somewhere, Ivan. Oh, you stinking Jesuit, but who taught you?","Ah, what a casuist he has turned out to be! Ivan, I bet he picked it up from the Jesuits somehow. Ah, it smacks of the Jesuits, Smerdyakov. Who taught you all that? But you’re talking nonsense, you casuist. It’s all false, false, false! Don’t weep, Gregory—we will at once annihilate his argument, reduce it to dust and ashes. Now, you tell me, Balaam’s ass—let’s assume then that you’re in the hands of your captors and, whichever way you put it, you do renounce your faith at a given point, whether in words or in thought, and just as you said yourself, at that very instant you become anathema. Surely you don’t expect them to pat you on the back in the other world for being anathema, or do you?",1,0.0946777,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 And it seems to me that I would be so happy if I had to stay at least my whole life not to leave the village and live in one place. Meanwhile, as a child, I was forced to leave my native places. I was only twelve years old when we moved to Petersburg. Oh, how sadly I remember our sad gatherings! How I cried when I said goodbye to everything that was so sweet to me. I remember that I threw myself on the father's neck and begged with tears to stay at least a little in the village. Father shouted at me, mother cried; She said that it was necessary, that things demanded it. Old Prince II died. The heirs refused the priest from the post. The priest had some money in circulation in the hands of private individuals in St. Petersburg. Hoping to improve his circumstances, he found it necessary to be personally present here. I learned all this from my mother. We settled here on the Petersburg side and lived in one place until the very death of the father.",Old Prince P—was dead.,1,0.09534946,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 20 Here Jondrette evidently thought the moment come to make an impression upon the “philanthropist.” He exclaimed in a tone of voice which belongs to the braggadocio of the juggler at a fair, and, at the same time, to the humility of a beggar on the highway: “Pupil of Talma! Monsieur! I am a pupil of Talma! Fortune once smiled on me. Alas! now it is the turn of misfortune. Look, my benefactor, no bread, no fire. My poor darlings have no fire! My spouse in bed! And in such weather! My only chair has no seat! A broken pane! sick!”",My only chair unseated! A broken window! in such weather as is this! My spouse in bed!,1,0.09534946,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 I opened my records to deliver to their pages a few, as I see it, useful thoughts (for you, readers) about the great Day of the One Vote, which is approaching rather soon. And I realized: I can’t write right now. But as I sat down, I discovered that I could not write at present; instead, I sit and listen to the wind beating the glass with its dark wings; all the while I am busy looking about and I am waiting, expecting … I do not know. What? So I was very glad when I saw the brownish-pink gills enter my room, heartily glad, I may say. She sat down, chastely straightened the pleats of her unif that fell between her knees, immediately pasting smiles all over me—in small dollops over each of my cracks—and I felt good, strongly connected.","I can’t stop listening to how the wind flaps its dark wings over the glass of the walls; I can’t stop looking around in anticipation. Of what? I don’t know. And when those familiar brownish-pink gills appeared in my room, I was very glad, and said so clean-heartedly.",1,0.09602549,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 I was sure that if I were the Assistant Principal and Redshirt were in my position, I’d be the one this guy was buttering up and flattering all over the place, and Redshirt would be the one he was always sneering at. no wonder that country people thought that ‘two-faced’ was just another way of calling somebody a Tokyoite, and vice versa. People like the Hanger weren’t worth associating with no matter where you were – in a carriage, on a boat, even at the top of the twelve-story tower in Asakusa Park back in Tokyo. No matter how splendid the scenery was, it was no fun being here with the likes of the Hanger. Kiyo might be a wrinkled old woman, but I wouldn’t feel embarrassed to take her anywhere. : if a guy like the Hanger was going around the country telling everybody about how he was a true son of Tokyo at every chance he got, it’s I was thinking how nice it would be if I had some money and I could bring her here to enjoy this pretty place. As these thoughts were passing through my head, I could hear the two of them breaking into a kind of muffled giggle. They say that Tokyo people are two-faced, and now I was beginning to see why","It would be fun to come to such a beautiful place with money and Qing. No matter how good the scenery is, it's boring to be in the field. Qing is an old woman full of wrinkles, but she doesn't feel embarrassed wherever she takes her. Whether it's a horse-drawn carriage, a boat, or a Ryounkaku, it's not like a field. If I was the vice-principal and I was the red shirt, I'm sure I would sneak up on me and use a compliment to cool the red shirt. It is said that Edokko is frivolous, but if such a thing goes around the countryside and I repeat that it is Edokko, the frivolous is Edokko, and the Edokko is frivolous. I think it's perfect. When I was thinking about this, the two of them giggled.",1,0.09602549,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 On other side of the room, the old man of Confucius, twisting round his toothless mouth, had finished as far as “…… dear Dembei-san” and is asking a geisha who sat in front of him to couch him for the rest. Old people seem to need polishing up their memorizing system. One geisha is talking to the teacher of natural history: “Here’s the latest. I’ll sing it. Just listen. She proceeded to sing something about a girl who does her hair in the latest fashion, all tied up with a pretty white bow, rides around town on a bicycle, plays on a violin, and chatters away in broken English, telling everyone ‘I am glad to see you.’ Natural history appears impressed, and says; “That’s an interesting piece.","‘ Margaret, the high-collared head with a white ribbon; she rides on a bike, plays a violin, and talks in broken English,—I am glad to see you.’”",1,0.09602549,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 Here I am alone.","Nastasia Philipovna? said the clerk, as though trying to think out something.",1,0.09670579,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 40 In St. Petersburg, in the cadet corps, I spent a long time, almost eight years, and with my new upbringing I drowned out a lot of children's impressions, although I did not forget anything. Instead, he adopted so many new habits and even opinions that he transformed into an almost wild, cruel and ridiculous creature. I acquired a polish of courtesy and secular treatment along with the French language, and we all considered the soldiers who served us in the corps as perfect brutes, and so did I. Perhaps I am more than anyone else, for of all my comrades I was more receptive to everything. When we left as officers, we were ready to shed our blood for our offended regimental honor, but almost none of us knew about real honor that it was, but if he knew, the first himself would have ridiculed it right away. They were almost proud of drunkenness, brawliness and bravado. I will not say that they were bad; all these young people were good, but behaved badly, and more than all I. The main thing is that I had my own capital, and therefore I started to live for my own pleasure, with all my youthful aspiration, without restraint, I swam in full sail. But here's what is marvelous: I read books then, and even with great pleasure; He almost never unrolled the Bible alone at that time, but he never parted with it, but took it everywhere with him : truly I kept this book, without knowing it, ""for a day and an hour, for a month and a year."" Having served that way for four years, I finally found myself in the city of K., where our regiment was then stationed. The city society was diverse, populous and cheerful, hospitable and rich, but they received me everywhere well, for I was by nature a cheerful disposition, and besides, I was not known for being poor, which means a lot in the world. So one circumstance happened that served as the beginning of everything. I became attached to a young and beautiful girl, intelligent and worthy, of a bright, noble character, the daughter of respectable parents. They were large people, they had wealth, influence and strength, they received me kindly and cordially. And now show me that the girl is warmly disposed towards me - my heart flared up at such a dream. Then he himself comprehended and fully guessed that, perhaps, I did not love her at all with such strength, but only honored her mind and sublime character, which could not be. Selfishness, however, prevented me from proposing a hand at that time: it seemed hard and scary to part with the temptations of a depraved, single and free life in such a young age, having in addition money. However, I made hints. In any case, he postponed any decisive step for a short time. And then suddenly there was a business trip to another county for two months. I come back two months later and suddenly find out that the girl is already married to a rich suburban landowner, a man, although older than me for years, but still young, who had connections in the capital and in the best society, which I did not have, a very kind person and moreover educated, and I had no education at all. I was so struck by this unexpected event that even my mind became clouded. The main thing was that, as I found out at the same time, this young landowner had been her fiancé for a long time and that I myself met him many times in their house, but did not notice anything, blinded by my merits. But it was this, for the most part, that offended me: how was it, almost everyone knew, but I alone did not know anything? And I suddenly felt unbearable anger. With color in my face, I began to remember how many times I almost expressed my love to her, and since she did not stop me and did not warn me, then, therefore, I brought it out, laughed at me. Then, of course, I realized and remembered that she did not laugh at all, but she herself, on the contrary, jokingly interrupted such conversations and conceived others in their place - but then I could not figure it out and flushed with revenge. I recall with amazement that this revenge and my anger were extremely difficult and disgusting to me, because, having an easy character, I could not be angry with anyone for a long time, and therefore, as it were, I artificially kindled myself and finally became ugly and absurd. I waited for a while and once in a large society I suddenly managed to offend my rival, allegedly for the most extraneous reason, to laugh at one of his opinions about one important event at that time - it was in the twenty-sixth year - and to laugh, people said, I succeeded witty and dexterous. Then he compelled him to explain and was so rude in explaining that he accepted my challenge, despite the huge difference between us, for I was younger than him, insignificant and of a minor rank. Later I firmly learned that he had accepted my challenge, as it were, out of a feeling of jealousy towards me: he had been jealous of me before, a little, towards his wife, even then his bride; Now I thought that if she found out that he had suffered an insult from me, and did not dare to challenge him to a duel, then she would not involuntarily despise him and her love would not be shaken. I got the second soon, comrade, our own lieutenant regiment. Then, although fights were brutally persecuted, there was even a fashion for them between the military - before that wild prejudices sometimes grow and strengthen. It was June at the end, and now our meeting the next day, outside the city, at seven o'clock in the morning - and truly something fatal happened to me here. Returning home in the evening, fierce and ugly, I got angry with my orderly Athanasius and hit him with all my might twice in the face, so that I bloody his face. He served with me until recently, and it happened before that he hit him, but never with such brutal cruelty. And believe me, dear ones, forty years have passed, and I still remember that with shame and anguish. I went to bed, fell asleep for three hours, get up, the day is already beginning. I suddenly got up, did not want to sleep anymore, went to the window, opened it - it was opening into my garden, - I see the sun is rising, warmly, beautifully, the birds are ringing. What is it, I think, I feel in my soul, as it were, something shameful and base? Is it because I'm going to shed blood? No, I don't think that's why. Is it because I am afraid of death, afraid of being killed? No, that was certainly not it, that couldn’t be . . . And suddenly I immediately guessed what was the matter: that I had beaten Afanasy in the evening! Everything suddenly seemed to me again, as if it was repeated again: he was standing in front of me, and I hit him with a swing right in the face, and he was holding his hands at the seams, his head straight, his eyes bulging like in the front, shuddering with every blow and even raising his hands, he does not dare to shield himself - and this is a man who has been brought to that point, and this is a man who beats a man! What a crime! As if a sharp needle pierced my soul through and through. I stand like a daze, and the sun is shining, the leaves are rejoicing, sparkling, and the birds, the birds are praising God ... I covered my face with both palms, fell on the bed and burst into tears. And here I remembered my brother Markel and his words before his death to the servants: ""My dears, dear ones, why do you serve me, why do you love me, and am I worth it to serve me?"" - ""Yes, I stand,"" - suddenly jumped into my head. Indeed, what do I stand for so that another person, like me, the image and likeness of God, would serve me? So this question stuck into my mind for the first time in my life then. "" Mother, you are my blood, truly everyone is to blame for everyone in front of everyone, people do not know only this, and if they knew, there would be paradise now!"" “Lord, is it really not true,” I cry and think, “truly I am for everyone, maybe all the guilty ones, and even worse than all people in the world!” And suddenly the whole truth presented itself to me, in all its enlightenment: what am I going to do? I am going to kill a kind, intelligent, noble man, who is innocent before me, and thus deprive his spouse of happiness forever, torture and kill. I was lying on the bed, prone, face in the pillow, and did not notice at all how time had passed. Suddenly my comrade, the lieutenant, comes in after me, with pistols: ""Oh, he says, it's good that you have already got up , it's time, let's go. "" I rushed around here, completely lost, we went out, however, to get into the carriage: "" Wait a while here ,"" I tell him, ""I’m running away in an instant, I forgot my wallet."" And he ran back into the apartment alone, right into the closet to Athanasius: “Athanasius, I say, yesterday I hit you twice in the face, forgive me,” I say. He shuddered, as if frightened, looking - and I see that this is not enough, not enough, but suddenly, as he was, wearing epaulettes, bang his forehead to the ground at his feet: ""Forgive me!"" - I say. At this point he was completely stunned: "" Your honor, sir, how are you ... but am I standing ... "" - and suddenly began to cry himself, as if I had just covered my face with both palms, turned to the window and shook all over from tears , I ran out to my friend, flew into the carriage, ""take"" I shout. ""I've seen, - I shout to him, - the winner - here he is in front of you!"" There is such a delight in me, I laugh, I say all the way, I say, I don't remember what I said. He looks at me: ""Well, brother, you are a fine fellow, I see that you will support the uniform."" So we arrived at the place, and they are already there, waiting for us. They set us up, twelve paces from each other, the first shot for him - I stand in front of him cheerful, straight face to face, I won't blink an eye, I look at him lovingly, I know what I will do. He fired, a drop only scratched my cheek and touched my ear. "" Thank God, I shout, they did not kill a man!"" - yes, he grabbed his pistol, turned back, and threw it up into the forest and let it go: ""There, I shout, you have a road!"" He turned to the enemy: “Dear sir, I say, forgive me, a stupid young man, that through my fault he offended you, and now I made you shoot yourself. I myself am ten times worse than you, and perhaps even more. Pass this on to the person you honor more than anyone else in the world. "" As soon as I said this, all three of them shouted: ""Have mercy,"" my opponent says, even getting angry, ""if you didn't want to fight, why bother?"" “Yesterday,” I say to him, “I was still stupid, but today I have grown wiser,” I answer him cheerfully. “I believe about yesterday,” he says, but it’s difficult to conclude about today, in your opinion. ” “Bravo,” I shout to him, clapping my hands, “I agree with you on this, I deserve it!” - ""Will you, my dear sir, shoot, or not?"" - ""I won't, I say, but you, if you want, shoot again, only it would be better for you not to shoot. "" The seconds also shout, especially mine: “How is it to disgrace the regiment, standing on the barrier, asking for forgiveness; if only I knew that! "" Here I stood in front of them all and no longer laugh: ""My Lord, I say, is it really so surprising now for our time to meet a man who himself would repent of his stupidity and confess what he himself is guilty of, publicly?"" - ""Yes, not at the barrier,"" - shouts my second again. “That’s what it is,” I answer them, “this is something amazing, because I should have obeyed, just arrived here, even before their shot, and not lead them into a great and mortal sin, but so ugly , I say, we arranged ourselves in the world that it was almost impossible to do so, for only after I had sustained their shot twelve paces away could my words now mean something to them, and if before the shot, how arrived here, they would say simply: a coward, he was frightened of a pistol and there is nothing to listen to him. Gentlemen, - I suddenly exclaimed from the bottom of my heart, - look around at the gifts of God: the sky is clear, the air is clean, the grass is tender, the birds, the nature is beautiful and sinless, and we, only we alone are godless and stupid and do not understand that life is paradise , for as soon as we want to understand, and immediately he will come in all his beauty, we embrace and cry ... ""I wanted to continue, but I could not, even my spirit was captured, sweetly, so young, but in my heart there is such happiness , which I have never felt in my whole life. ""All this is prudent and pious,"" the opponent tells me, ""and in any case you are an original person."" “Laugh,” I laugh at him too, “and then praise yourself.” - ""Yes, I am ready and now, he says, to praise, if you please, I will give you my hand, because it seems that you are really a sincere person."" - ""No, I say, now it is not necessary, and then, when I do better and deserve your respect, then hold out and you will do well. "" We returned home, my second was scolding all the way, and I was kissing him. Immediately all the comrades heard, they were going to judge me on the same day: ""The uniform, they say, got dirty, let him resign. "" The defenders also showed up: ""Still, they say, he withstood the shot."" - ""Yes, but I was afraid of other shots and asked for forgiveness at the barrier."" “And if I were afraid of shots,” the defenders argue, “I would have fired from my pistol first before asking for forgiveness, but he threw it into the forest still loaded, no, something else happened, something original.” I listen, looking at them merrily. “My dearest,” I say, “friends and comrades, do not worry that I resign, because I have already done it, I have already submitted it, this very morning in the chancellery, and when I receive my resignation, then immediately in I’ll go to the monastery, and for this I’m submitting my resignation. ” As soon as I said this, everyone burst out laughing: ""Yes, you would have informed from the very beginning, well, now everything is explained, the monk cannot be judged,"" they laugh, they do not calm down, and they do not laugh at all, but they laugh so kindly, cheerfully, Suddenly everyone, even the most ardent accusers, fell in love with me, and then all this month, until the resignation came out, as if they were carrying me in their arms: “ Oh, you, monk,” they say. And everyone will say a kind word to me, they began to dissuade me, even to regret: ""What are you doing on yourself?"" - “No, they say, he is brave here, he withstood a shot and could have fired from his pistol, and he had a dream the day before that he would become a monk, that’s why.” Exactly the same thing almost happened in urban society. Previously, they did not particularly notice me, but only received me with cordiality, and now suddenly everyone vied with each other and began to call to themselves: they themselves laugh at me, but they love me. I will note here that although everyone was talking out loud about our duel then, the authorities closed the case, because my opponent was a close relative of our general, and since the case did not go without blood, but as if as a joke, and I finally resigned filed, then turned really in jest. And then I began to speak aloud and fearlessly, in spite of their laughter, because, nevertheless, the laughter was not spiteful, but kind. All these conversations took place more in the evenings in the ladies' company, the women then fell in love with me and forced the men. "" But how is it possible that I was to blame for everyone,"" everyone laughs in my eyes, ""how can I be guilty for you, for example?"" “But where,” I answer them, “you should know this when the whole world has long gone on a different road and when we consider a real lie for the truth and demand the same lie from others. So once in my life I took it and acted sincerely, and what, for all of you, I have become like a fool: even though you love me, you are still laughing at me, I say. "" - ""Why not love you like that?"" - the hostess laughs out loud to me, and her meeting was crowded. Suddenly, I look, the same young lady rises from the midst of the ladies, because of whom I then challenged to a duel and who so recently I had predicted for myself as a bride, but I didn’t notice how she had now arrived for the evening. She got up, came up to me, held out her hand: "" Let me, he says, explain to you that I am not the first to laugh at you, but, on the contrary, thank you with tears and declare my respect for you for your act of that time. "" Her husband came up here too, and then all of a sudden everyone reached out to me, almost kissing me. I felt so happy, but more than anyone else I suddenly noticed one gentleman, an elderly man, who was also approaching me, whom I had known by name before, but I had never known him and until this evening I hadn’t even had a word with him. said.","No, it’s not at all, not at all that…",1,0.0973904,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 “Look at the two of you sitting together,” cried Leni, who had returned with the bowl and paused at the door. In fact they were sitting quite close to one another; the slightest turn and they would bump their heads; the merchant, who apart from his short stature also stooped, had forced K. to bend low if he wanted to hear everything. “Just give us another minute,” K. said, putting Leni off, and the hand he still left placed on the merchant’s twitched impatiently. “He wanted me to tell him about my trial,” the merchant said to Leni. “Go ahead and tell him,” she said. She spoke tenderly to the merchant, but condescendingly as well, which didn’t please K; after all, as he now realized, the man had some merit, at least he had experience in these matters and could communicate it. Leni probably judged him unfairly. He watched with annoyance as Leni took the candle from the merchant, who had been gripping it firmly the whole time, wiped his hand with her apron, and then knelt down beside him to scratch away some wax that had dripped onto his trousers. “You were going to tell me about the shysters,” K. said, pushing Leni’s hand away without comment. “What do you think you’re doing?” asked Leni, giving K. a small tap and resuming her task. "" Quite right,"" said the businessman, but didn't continue. Yes, from the petty lawyers,"" said the merchant, wiping his forehead as if thinking. ""Maybe he doesn't want to talk about it in front of Leni,"" thought K., suppressing his impatience to hear more right now and pressing him no further. K. wanted to give him a hand and said: ""You wanted immediate success and that's why you went to the crooked lawyers."" ","“Yes, the shysters,” said the merchant, and passed his hand across his brow, as if he were thinking. K. tried to prompt him by saying: “You wanted immediate results and so you went to the shysters.” “That’s right,” said the merchant, but didn’t continue. “Perhaps he doesn’t want to talk about it in front of Leni,” thought K., suppressing his impatience to hear the rest at once and pressing him no further.",1,0.09947021,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 There was no land in the whole world that he had not seen, nor battle where he had not been found; More Moors had died than Morocco and Tunisia have, and had entered into more unique challenges, according to him, than Ghent and Luna, Diego García de Paredes and a thousand others he named; and he had emerged victorious from all of them, without having had a single drop of blood spilled. » He sat on a bench under a large poplar tree in our plaza, and there he had our mouths open, awaiting the exploits he was telling us. Added to these arrogance was being a bit of a musician and playing a guitar with strings, in a way that some said that it made her speak; but her graces did not stop here, she was also a poet, and On the other hand, it showed signs of injuries that, although they were not seen, made us understand that they were arquebuses given in different encounters and factions. Finally, with an unseen arrogance, he called to you his equals and those who knew him, and said that his father was his arm, his lineage, his works, and that under being a soldier, he owed nothing to the king himself.","And do not think that what I am saying about his clothes is irrelevant or trivial, because they play an important part in this story. He would sit on a stone bench that is under a great poplar tree in our village square, and there he would keep us all openmouthed with suspense as he recounted great deeds to us. There was no land anywhere in the world that he had not seen, and no battle in which he had not fought; he had killed as many Moors as live in Morocco and Tunis and had engaged in more single combat than Gante and Luna,2 Diego García de Paredes, and another thousand men he named, and from all of them he had emerged victorious, without shedding a single drop of blood. On the other hand, he would show us the scars of wounds, and even though we could not make them out, he let us know that they had been caused by shots from flintlocks in various battles and skirmishes. Finally, with unparalleled arrogance, he would address his equals, even those who knew him, as vos, 3 saying that his father was his fighting arm, his lineage his deeds, and as a soldier he owed nothing to no man, not even the king. In addition to this arrogance, he was something of a musician who could strum a guitar so well that some said he could make it speak, but his talents did not end here; he also was a poet, and for each trivial event in the village he would compose a ballad at least a league and a half long.",1,0.10017222,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 . . . Although I think she was in too much of a hurry—perhaps because of her surprise—to discard her kind feelings for me. . . ."" ""Yes, she was in rather a hurry!"" Anna assented enthusiastically, looking at me with ardent sympathy. "" Oh, if only you knew the intrigue that's being hatched there now! I realize, Arkady,"" she said, turning pink and bashfully lowering her eyes, ""how difficult it is for you to understand the delicacy of my present position. Since the morning I saw you last, I have taken a step that not everybody would understand as well as you, with your uncontaminated mind and loving, uncorrupted heart. I want you to know, my dear friend, that I am capable of appreciating your devotion to me and am eternally grateful to you for it. In society, of course, there are those who will cast stones at me, and some have already picked up their stones. But even supposing they may be right from their ignoble point of view, even so who of them would dare to condemn me? I was abandoned by my father when I was still a child. The Versilovs are an old Russian family, and yet I've been forced to live on charity as if I were scum! So wasn't it natural for me to turn to the man who had replaced my father since my childhood and whose kindness I had experienced for so many years? My feelings for him are known only to God, and he alone can judge them, and I refuse to accept the judgment of the world upon the step I have taken. When there is, moreover, at the bottom of this the most cunning, the most evil intrigue, and the plot to ruin a trusting, noble-hearted father is the work of his own daughter, is it to be endured? And I don't care if it costs me my reputation or not, but I will save him! If need be, I'm prepared to be nothing but his nurse, to look after him, be at his bedside when he's ill, but I'm not going to allow their cold, sordid, worldly schemes to triumph!""","How I feel toward him is for God alone to judge and I refuse to accept the judgment of society, whether they approve or disapprove of the step I've taken. And when, on top of everything, I find out about a sinister and sordid intrigue hatched against a kind and trusting father by his own daughter, who is determined to ruin him, how can I stand idly by?",1,0.10230471,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 As he consults with his father, a letter arrives from Fa Zheng, who has suggested to Xuande that he try to persuade Liu Zhang to submit. So desperate is he, he is even persuaded to write to his other arch-enemy, Zhang Lu, asking for help. He has defeated the governor of Jicheng, taken over the city and then pardoned the governor for resisting. There and then a plot is hatched, supported in particular by one relative, an eighty-two-year-old matriarch. However, visiting relatives soon after, this governor, Yang Fu, breaks down and confesses he is ashamed that he betrayed the trust he was given to defend the city. Drawing Ma Chao to the attack before the city of Licheng, the plotters spring an ambush on Ma Chao, encouraged by the fact that Cao Cao has sent Xiahou Yuan to support the plot. The letter has somewhat the opposite result, as in his fury Liu Zhang tears up the letter and plans for the counter-attack. Far off in the northwest, Ma Chao has built up his own base among the Qiang tribes of Longxi. Fu said: ""If you have courage but no strategy, it is easy to do it. I have made a secret agreement. Liang Kuan and Zhao Qu. If my brother is willing to raise an army, the two of them will respond internally.” Xu Mu said, “If you don’t plan early, when will you wait? Who won’t die? Die with loyalty and righteousness, and you will die. Don’t think of me. If you don't listen to Yishan's words, I will die first. To stop your thoughts.""","Yang Fu passed Licheng to see Jiang Xu, the general of Fu Yi. Xu and Fu were cousins: Xu's mother was Fu's aunt, and she was eighty-two. On that day, Yang Fu entered Jiang Xu's house, visited his aunt, and cried out, ""Fu guarding the city cannot be protected, the master cannot die, and he is ashamed to see his aunt. Ma Chao betrayed the king, killed the county governor, and all the people in the state hated him. Now, my brother is sitting in the city of Li, but he doesn't have the heart to fight thieves , how can this be the reason of the ministers?"" After speaking, tears flowed out of blood. When Xu's mother heard the words, she called Jiang Xu into, and reprimanded him: ""The murder of the envoy of Wei is also your crime."" She also said to Fu, ""You have surrendered people, and you have eaten their money, why are you eager to ask for it? Fu said: ""My followers want to leave the rest of my life to avenge the lord."" Xu said: ""Ma Chao is heroic, and he is eager to try to do it.""",1,0.10302443,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 Candide was very pleased with an actress who took the part of Queen Elizabeth in a rather dull tragedy74 that still gets played from time to time. — I like this actress very much, he said to Martin, she bears a slight resemblance to Miss Cunégonde; I should like to meet her. The abbé from Perigord offered to introduce him. Candide, raised in Germany, asked what was the protocol, how one behaved in France with queens of England. —You must distinguish, said the abbé; in the provinces, you take them to an inn; at Paris they are respected while still attractive, and thrown on the dunghill when they are dead.75 —Queens on the dunghill! said Candide. — Yes indeed, said Martin, the abbé is right; I was in Paris when Miss Monime herself passed, as they say, from this life to the other; she was refused what these folk call ‘the honors of burial,’ that is, the right to rot with all the beggars of the district in a dirty cemetery; she was buried all alone by her troupe at the corner of the Rue de Bourgogne; this must have been very disagreeable to her, for she had a noble character.76 — That was extremely rude, said Candide. —What do you expect? said Martin; that is how these folk are. Imagine all the contradictions, all the incompatibilities you can, and you will see them in the government, the courts, the churches, and the plays of this crazy nation. —Is it true that they are always laughing in Paris? asked Candide. —Yes, said the abbé, but with a kind of rage too; when people complain of things, they do so amid explosions of laughter; they even laugh as they perform the most detestable actions. ","“Is it true,” said Candide, “that the people of Paris are always laughing?” “Yes,” replied the Abbé; “but it is with anger in their hearts. They express all their complaints by loud bursts of laughter, and commit the most detestable crimes with a smile on their faces.”",1,0.10447732,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 And as we go, do tell me about Carquethuit. I felt that we had a better chance of waylaying the little band if we moved towards the end of the beach. ""I should like to look at those cliffs with you from a little nearer,"" I said to him, having noticed that one of the girls was in the habit of going in that direction. "" Pointing to the cliffs that towered beside us, I kept on asking him to tell me about them, so as to make him forget the time and stay there a little longer. And, once we were out of doors, I discovered that—so long were the days still at this season—it was not so late as I had supposed; we strolled down to the 'front.' However, on the day of this first visit to Elstir, the time was still distant at which I was to become conscious of this difference in value, and there was no question of danger, but simply—a harbinger this of that pernicious self–esteem— the question of my not appearing to attach to the pleasure which I so ardently desired more importance than to the work which the painter had still to finish. On the contrary, I feel that it is eminently sensible of them to safeguard their lives, though at the same time I cannot prevent my own safety from receding into the background, which is particularly silly and culpable of me since I have come to realise that the lives of many of the people in front of whom I plant myself when a bomb bursts are more valueless even than my own. It was finished at last. What stratagems I employed to keep Elstir standing at the spot where I thought that the girls might still come past.","On the contrary, I think it is entirely sensible of them to look out for themselves, though I cannot help subordinating my own interest to theirs, and though I must say this does appear singularly absurd and blameworthy, when I consider that the lives of many of those whose bodies I shield with mine when a bomb drops are even less valuable than my own. Anyway, at the time of my visit to Elstir, the day of my discovery of that difference in value was still far in the future; and there was no danger, but only the importance I saw (a forewarning of the pernicious self-esteem) in not appearing to think the pleasure I was longing for was more important than his task of finishing his water-colour. He finished it at last. As soon as we went outside, I noticed it was not as late as I had thought, the days being long at that time of year; and we walked down to the esplanade. I racked my brains to think of ways of keeping him near the place where I thought there was still a chance that the girls might appear. I pointed to the cliffs near by and kept asking him questions about them, in the hope of making him forget the time and keeping him there. I suspected we might have a better chance of catching up with the little gang if we went towards the far end of the beach. ‘Perhaps we could look at those cliffs from a little closer,’ I said, knowing that one of the girls often walked off in that direction. ‘ And as we walk, perhaps you could tell me about Carquethuit? How I would love to go to Carquethuit!’",1,0.10447732,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 The bed was in semi-darkness, shielded from the moon by a column, but from the steps of the porch a ribbon of moonlight stretched to the bed. And as soon as the procurator lost contact with what was around him in reality, he immediately set off along the luminous road and went along it straight up to the moon. He even laughed in his sleep with happiness, before that everything turned out perfectly and uniquely on the transparent blue road. He was accompanied by Bungui, and next to him was a wandering philosopher. They were arguing about something very difficult and important, and neither of them could defeat the other. They did not agree on anything with each other, and for this reason their dispute was especially interesting and never-ending. It goes without saying that today's execution turned out to be a pure misunderstanding - after all, the philosopher who invented such an incredibly absurd thing like the fact that all people are kind walked nearby, therefore, he was alive. And, of course, it would be absolutely terrible even to think that such a person could be executed. No! The execution had not taken place! That's the beauty of this journey up the ladder of the moon.",There was no punishment! Did not have!,1,0.105210535,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 After dinner, Lavretsky said that he would drink tea if ... ""I'll give you a minute,"" the old man interrupted him, and he kept his promise. Anton now ordered: he caught, slaughtered and plucked an old hen; Apraksey rubbed and washed it for a long time, washing it like linen, before putting it into the pan; when it was finally cooked, Anton covered and cleared the table, placed in front of the appliance a blackened salt shaker with three legs and a faceted decanter with a round glass stopper and a narrow neck; then he reported to Lavretsky in a melodious voice that the food was ready, and he himself stood behind his chair, wrapping a napkin around his right fist and spreading some strong, ancient smell, like the smell of a cypress tree. The traces of human life will fade away very soon: Glafira Petrovna's estate did not have time to become wild, but already seemed immersed in that quiet slumber, which slumbers everything on earth, where there is only no human, restless infection. Fyodor Ivanitch also walked around the village; the women looked at him from the threshold of their huts, propping their cheeks with their hands; the peasants bowed from a distance, the children ran away, the dogs barked indifferently. He was finally hungry; but he expected his servant and cook only towards evening; The convoy with provisions from Lavrikov had not yet arrived, so I had to turn to Anton. Lavretsky tasted the soup and brought out the chicken; her skin was all covered with large pimples; a thick vein ran down each leg, the meat reeked of wood and lye.","Traces of human life vanish very quickly: Glafira Petrovna’s estate had not yet gone wild, but it seemed already to have sunk into that quiet repose which possesses everything on earth wherever there is no restless human infection to affect it. Fyodor Ivanych also took a walk through the village; women gazed at him from the doorways of their huts, hands resting on their cheeks; the menfolk bowed from a distance, children ran off and dogs barked indifferently. Finally he wanted to have a meal, but he could not expect the rest of his servants and his cook before evening, and the waggons with supplies from Lavriki had not yet arrived – so he had to fall back on Anton. Anton at once made the arrangements: he caught, killed and plucked an old chicken; Apraxia took a long time rubbing and washing and belabouring it, as though it were linen, before putting it in a saucepan; when it was at last cooked, Anton spread a cloth and laid the table, setting before his master’s place a blackened plated salt-cellar on three legs and a cut-glass decanter with a round glass stopper and a thin neck; then he announced to Lavretsky in a sing-song voice that dinner was served and positioned himself behind Lavretsky’s chair with a napkin wrapped round his right fist and exuding a strong antique odour similar to that of cypress wood. Lavretsky dealt with the soup and then addressed himself to the chicken ; its skin was covered all over with large pimples; a large tendon ran down each leg and the meat had an alkaline, woody taste. Having dined, Lavretsky said that he would like some tea if… ‘I’ll bring it, sir, this very minute, sir,’ the old man interrupted and was as good as his word.",1,0.105948284,0
+"lexical = 80, order = 40 Who is talking to you of yourselves? we know well that you all have in your souls the joy and the glory of giving your life for the great cause ; we know well that you feel yourselves elected to die usefully and magnificently, and that each one of you clings to his share in the triumph. Very well. There were ashes in his teeth. Come, let us examine ourselves conscientiously and take counsel with our heart. A sort of mud was found in his stomach. I repeat, it is a question of women, it concerns mothers, it concerns young girls, it concerns little children. Statistics show that the mortality among abandoned children is fifty-five per cent. We know well what you are; we know well that you are all brave, parbleu!","We found a kind of mud in his stomach. There were ashes in his teeth. Come, let us search our conscience and take counsel with our hearts. Statistics show that the mortality of abandoned children is fifty-five per cent. I repeat it, it is a question of wives, it is a question of mothers, it is a question of young girls, it is a question of babes. Do I speak to you for yourselves? We know very well what you are; we know very well that you are all brave, good heavens! we know very well that your souls are filled with joy and glory at giving your life for the great cause; we know very well that you feel that you are elected to die usefully and magnificently, and that each of you clings to his share of the triumph. Well and good.",1,0.105948284,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 The poor woman used sometimes, shaking her head, to tell with a sort of horror how she had spent six months there with her little girl, not knowing the language, absolutely friendless, and in the end penniless, as though she were lost in a forest. He took my mother with him, though he left her at Königsberg. On his wife's death he spent some time in the country; then came the episode with my mother. At the conclusion of the war he left the service and went abroad. Then Tatyana Pavlovna came to fetch her and took her back to some place in the Novgorod Province. He married Mlle. Fanariotov and retired from the army. During the war with Europe he served in the army but did not reach the Crimea and was never in action. He went abroad, and on his return lived a life of worldly gaiety in Moscow. Then he lived for a long time somewhere in the south. He studied at the university but went into a cavalry regiment of the guards.","Versilov studied at the university but then joined a cavalry regiment of the Guards. When he married Miss Fanariotov, he resigned his commission. He traveled abroad extensively and when he returned to Moscow he led a gay social life. After the death of his wife, he went to his country estate where he had that affair with my mother. Then he lived for a long time somewhere in Southern Russia. During the Crimean War, he rejoined the Army but never saw action, indeed, never even reached the Crimea. After the war, he again resigned from the Army and went abroad. He took my mother with him but left her in Konigsberg. The poor thing told me with a strange bewilderment, helplessly shaking her head, how she had spent six whole months there alone with her tiny daughter, without speaking the language, feeling like a babe in the woods, and how in the end she had even run out of money. Finally Mrs. Prutkov had appeared, taken her back to Russia, and there whisked her off to some place near Nizhny-Novgorod.",1,0.105948284,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 The maid's soft knocking woke him at seven in the morning. He glanced at Albertine. Sometimes, not always, the knocking woke her too. Today she slept motionless, all too motionless. Fridolin quickly got ready. Before he left he wanted to see his little daughter. She lay quietly in her white bed, her hands clenched into little fists in a child's fashion. He kissed her forehead. And once more, on tiptoe, he crept to the door of the bedroom, where Albertine still lay, motionless as before. Then he left. In his black doctor's bag, well kept, he carried a monk's robe and a pilgrim's hat with him. He had planned the program for the day carefully, even with some pedantry. The first thing to do was to visit a young lawyer who was seriously ill nearby. Fridolin undertook a careful examination, found the condition somewhat improved, expressed his satisfaction with it and provided the usual repetition of an old recipe. Then he immediately went to the house in the basement of which Nightingale had been playing the piano last night. The bar was still closed, but the cashier in the café upstairs knew that Nachtigall lived in a small hotel in Leopoldstadt. Fifteen minutes later Fridolin drove up there. It was a miserable inn. The hallway smelled of unaired beds, bad fat and chicory coffee. A nasty-looking porter, with sly red-rimmed eyes, always ready for police questioning, was willing to provide information. Herr Nachtigall drove up at five o'clock this morning in the company of two gentlemen who, perhaps on purpose, had almost made their faces unrecognizable by tying up scarves. While Nachtigall went to his room, the gentlemen had paid his bill for the last four weeks; when he hadn't appeared again after half an hour, one gentleman would have fetched him down personally, after which all three would have driven to the North Station. Any letters for Herr Nachtigall, the two gentlemen had explained, would be collected by someone authorized to do so. From Nachtigall, then, there was nothing to be gleaned. Nachtigall had appeared to be extremely agitated; indeed, why should one not tell the whole truth to a gentleman who inspired such confidence – he had tried to slip a note to the porter, but the two gentlemen had intervened at once. Fridolin took his leave, thankful that he had his doctor’s bag with him as he came out of the main door: that way people would not take him for a lodger but for someone there officially. They had been very careful, and evidently had every reason for being so. ","Nightingale had looked most excited; Yes - why shouldn't one tell the whole truth to such a trustworthy gentleman - he had tried to slip a letter to the porter, but the two gentlemen immediately prevented it. Letters that came for Mr. Nightingale - the gentlemen had explained further - would be picked up by a person authorized to do so. Fridolin took his leave, it pleased him that he was carrying his doctor's bag in his hand when he stepped through the front door; so one would probably not take him for an inhabitant of this hotel, but for an official. So for the time being it was nothing with Nightingale. They had been very careful and probably had every reason to be.",1,0.107812636,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 “That they were masters of the Bank;” “that, merely at the cloisters of Saint Merry, there were six hundred, intrenched and fortified in the church;” “that the Line was doubtful;” “that Armand Carrel had been to see Marshal Clausel and that the marshal had said: Have one regiment in the place first;” “that Lafayette was sick, but that he had said to them notwithstanding: I am with you. Alarming stories were circulated, ominous rumours were spread. You saw everywhere, in the most distant and the most “disinterested” quartiers, doors, windows, and shutters closed in broad day. The courageous armed, the poltroons hid. They were concerned about Marshal Soult’s hesitation. I will follow you anywhere where there is room for a chair;” “that it was necessary to keep on their guard; that in the night there would be people who would pillage the isolated houses in the deserted quartiers of Paris (in this the imagination of the police was recognised, that Anne Radcliffe mixed with government);” “that a battery had been planted in the Rue Aubry le Boucher;” “that Lobau and Bugeaud were consulting; and that at midnight, or at daybreak at the latest, four columns would march at once upon the centre of the émeute, the first coming from the Bastille, the second from the Porte Saint Martin, the third from La Grève, the fourth from the markets;” “that perhaps also the troops would evacuate Paris and retire to the Champ de Mars;” “that nobody knew what might happen, but that certainly, this time, it was serious.” “Why doesn’t he attack right away?” Many streets were as empty as at four o’clock in the morning. The careless and busy wayfarer disappeared.","We live everywhere, in the most distant and most “disinterested” neighborhoods, with doors, windows and shutters closed in broad daylight. The brave armed themselves, the cowards hid. The carefree and busy passerby disappeared. Many streets were empty like at four in the morning. Alarming details were peddled, fatal news was spread. — That they were masters of the Bank; — that, in the cloister of Saint-Merry alone, there were six hundred, entrenched and embattled in the church; — that the line was not secure; — that Armand Carrel had gone to see Marshal Clausel and that the Marshal had said: First have a regiment; — that Lafayette was ill, but that he had nevertheless said to them: I am yours. I will follow you wherever there is room for a chair; — that you should be on your guard; that at night there would be people who would pillage isolated houses in the deserted corners of Paris (here one recognized the imagination of the police, that Anne Radcliffe mixed up in the government); — that a battery had been established in rue Aubry-le-Boucher; — that Lobau and Bugeaud were consulting each other and that at midnight, or at daybreak at the latest, four columns would march at the same time on the center of the riot, the first coming from the Bastille, the second from the Porte Saint- Martin, the third of La Grève, the fourth of Les Halles; — that perhaps also the troops would evacuate Paris and retire to the Champ de Mars; - that we did not know what would happen, but that this time it was certainly serious. ""We were worried about Marshal Soult's hesitations."" ""Why didn't he attack right away?""",1,0.10818895,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 On the other hand, whenever the son received his father civilly the old man would be struck dumb with joy. Satisfaction would beam in his face, in his every gesture, in his every movement. And if the son deigned to engage in conversation with him, the old man always rose a little from his chair, and answered softly, sympathetically, with something like reverence, while strenuously endeavouring to make use of the most recherche (that is to say, the most ridiculous) expressions. But, alas! He had not the gift of words. Always he grew confused, and turned red in the face; never did he know what to do with his hands or with himself. Likewise, whenever he had returned an answer of any kind, he would go on repeating the same in a whisper, as though he were seeking to justify what he had just said. And if he happened to have returned a good answer, he would begin to preen himself, and to straighten his waistcoat, frockcoat and tie, and to assume an air of conscious dignity. Indeed, on these occasions he would feel so encouraged, he would carry his daring to such a pitch, that, rising softly from his chair, he would approach the bookshelves, take thence a book, and read over to himself some passage or another. All this he would do with an air of feigned indifference and sangfroid, as though he were free ALWAYS to use his son’s books, and his son’s kindness were no rarity at all. Yet on one occasion I saw the poor old fellow actually turn pale on being told by his son not to touch the books. Abashed and confused, he, in his awkward hurry, replaced the volume wrong side uppermost; whereupon, with a supreme effort to recover himself, he turned it round with a smile and a blush, as though he were at a loss how to view his own misdemeanour. Gradually, as already said, the younger Pokrovski weaned his father from his dissipated ways by giving him a small coin whenever, on three successive occasions, he (the father) arrived sober. Sometimes, also, the younger man would buy the older one shoes, or a tie, or a waistcoat; whereafter, the old man would be as proud of his acquisition as a peacock. Not infrequently, also, the old man would step in to visit ourselves, and bring Sasha and myself gingerbread birds or apples, while talking unceasingly of Petinka. Always he would beg of us to pay attention to our lessons, on the plea that Petinka was a good son, an exemplary son, a son who was in twofold measure a man of learning; after which he would wink at us so quizzingly with his left eye, and twist himself about in such amusing fashion, that we were forced to burst out laughing. My mother had a great liking for him, but he detested Anna Thedorovna—although in her presence he would be quieter than water and lowlier than the earth.","Pleasure was visible in his face, in his gestures, in his movements. If his son spoke to him, the old man always rose a little from his chair and answered quietly, obsequiously, almost reverently, and always trying to use the most selective, that is, the most ridiculous expressions. But the gift of speech was not given to him: he always gets confused and shy, so that he does not know where to put his hands, where to put himself, and after a long time he whispers the answer to himself, as if wanting to get better. If he managed to answer well, then the old man would preen, straighten his waistcoat, tie, tailcoat and take on the appearance of his own dignity. And it happened that he would be so emboldened, would stretch his courage so much that he quietly got up from his chair, approached a shelf with books, took some book and even immediately read something, no matter what the book was. He did all this with an air of feigned indifference and composure, as if he could always manage his son's books in such a way, as if he were not unusual in his son's caress.",0,0.99999285,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 The countess, cast off by Fauchery, who was once more completely under Rose’s influence, sought forgetfulness in other amours, in the attack of the feverish anxiety of her forty years, ever nervous, and filling the house with the exasperating commotion of her mode of living. Ah, well! Since her marriage, Estelle no longer saw her father. This skinny and insignificant looking girl had suddenly developed into a woman with an iron will so absolute that Daguenet trembled before her; now he accompanied her to church, converted, and furious with his father-in-law, who was ruining them with an abandoned female. So now it became her way of attaching him to her all the more; for nothing at all, at the least quarrel, she gave him his choice, accompanied by some of the most abominable reflections. M. Venot alone remained affectionate towards the count, whilst biding his time. He had even succeeded in gaining access to Nana; he frequented the two houses, where one often came across his continual smile behind the doors. His reconciliation with his wife had made his home unbearable. He bowed his head, he waited for better times, when she would be in want of money; then she became caressing, and he forgot everything—a night of love compensated for the tortures of a week. He did not go. And Muffat, miserable in his own home, driven from thence by dulness and shame, preferred rather to live amidst the insults of the Avenue de Villiers. she would always be able to find some one better than he, she had only too many people to choose from; one could pick up men outside, as many as one wanted, and fellows who were not such ninnies as he, whose blood boiled in their veins.","He did not come out. Now, it was his way of tying her down more; for nothing, at the slightest quarrel, she put the deal in his hand, with abominable reflections. Ah well ! she would always find something better than him, she was spoiled for choice; we picked up men outside, as many as we wanted, and less stupid men, whose blood boiled in the veins. He lowered his head, he waited for sweeter hours, when she needed money; then she became caressing; and he forgot, a night of tenderness compensated for the tortures of the whole week. His rapprochement with his wife had made his interior unbearable. The Countess, abandoned by Fauchery, who was once again falling under the sway of Rose34, was bewildered by other loves, in the restless fit of quarantine fever, always nervous, filling the hotel with the exasperating whirlwind of her life. Estelle, since her marriage, no longer saw her father; in this girl, dull and insignificant, a woman of iron will had suddenly appeared so absolute that Daguenet trembled before her; now he accompanied her to mass, converted, furious at his father-in-law who was ruining them with a creature. Alone, M. Venot remained tender for the Count, watching his hour; he had even managed to get into Nana's house, he frequented both houses, where one met his continual smile behind the doors. And Muffat, miserable at home, driven away by boredom and shame, still preferred to live on the avenue de Villiers, amid insults.",1,0.10894506,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 While drinking and having fun, someone came to report: ""Your Majesty, there are two one-horned ghost kings outside the door. They want to see your great king. "" The Monkey King said, ""Teach him to come in."" The Monkey King asked him, ""Why do you see me?"" The Ghost King said, ""I've heard for a long time that the King is recruiting talents, but I can't see it; now I see the King conferring the Tianlu, and he is proud to return, and he specially presents a ochre and yellow robe to be called by the King. We have come, therefore, to present the Great King with a red and yellow robe for his celebration. Willing to not abandon the contemptible, accepting the villain, and also the labor of the dog and horse. "" The Monkey King was overjoyed, put on the ochre and yellow robe, and all the others were happy to arrange their shifts to worship, and the Ghost King was named the pioneer of the former governor. The Ghost King thanked him and said again, ""Your Majesty has been in the sky for a long time, what position has he granted him?"" The Monkey King said, ""The Jade Emperor Qingxian, make me a 'Bi Ma Wen'!"" The Ghost King heard the words and said again: "" The king has such supernatural powers, how to raise horses with him? Just be a 'Great Sage Equalling the Sky', why not?"" The Monkey King heard that, overjoyed, and repeated several times, ""Good! Good! Good!"" ""Just set up a flag for me, write the four characters of 'Monkey King' on the flag, and hang it on the pole. From then on, I will only be called the Monkey King, not the king. It can also be passed on to the other cave demons. King, I know all of them. "" That's not a problem.",Celebration.,1,0.10894506,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 Every day he emerged from his house at the same time, he would set off on the same expedition, but he no longer completed it, and it was perhaps unawares that he kept curtailing it. His whole face expressed this one notion: what’s the use? The tear also was gone; it no longer gathered at the corner of the lids; that thoughtful eye was dry. Sometimes, when the weather was bad, he carried an umbrella under his arm, which he never opened. The eye was dull; no more radiance. The old man’s head was still bent forward; his chin quivered at times; the wrinkles of his thin neck were painful to behold. The good women of the quarrier said: “He is a natural.” Children would follow after him, laughing.","His gaze was dull, no brightness now. The tear, too, was gone; it no longer gathered in the corner of his eye. Those contemplative eyes were dry. The old man’s head still strained forward. His chin wobbled occasionally. The folds in his gaunt neck were pitiful. Sometimes, when the weather was bad, he carried an umbrella under his arm, which he did not open. The local women said, ‘He’s simple-minded.’",1,0.10894506,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 One day in late spring, the various monks gathered in the shade of pine trees were discussing the canons of Chan and debating the fine points of the mysteries. Stung by this abuse, Xuanzang went into the temple and knelt before his teacher with tears streaming from his eyes. Don't try any of your clever tricks here.” “All men who are born between Heaven and Earth, and who are endowed with the Positive, the Negative, and the Five Elements—all are begotten by a father and reared by a mother,” he said. “How can there be any man alive who never had father and mother?” When he had read it he collapsed, weeping and crying out, “How can I be a man if I don't avenge my father and mother? A bibulous, meat-eating monk who had been confounded in a disputation by Xuanzang lost his temper and started to abuse him: “You animal, you don't know your own surname or who your parents were. He begged over and over again to know his parents' names. The abbot lifted down a little box from on top of a massive beam, opened it, took out a letter written in blood and a shift, and gave them to Xuanzang, who unfolded the letter and read it. At last he learned about his parents and the wrongs they had suffered. “If you really wish to find out about your father and mother, come with me into my cell,” said the abbot, and they went there together. For eighteen years, I have been ignorant of my true parents, and only this day have I learned that I have a mother! And yet, would I have even reached this day if my master had not saved me and cared for me? Permit your disciple to go seek my mother. Thereafter, I will rebuild this temple with an incense bowl on my head, and repay the profound kindness of my teacher.” “If you desire to seek your mother,” said the master, “you may take this letter in blood and the inner garment with you. Go as a mendicant monk to the private quarters at the governor’s mansion of Jiangzhou. You will then be able to meet your mother.”","After three years had passed in this way the Patriarch once more sat on his lecturing throne and expounded the Dharma to the students. He recounted famous sayings and parables, and discussed external phenomena and external appearances. Without warning he asked, “Where is Sun Wukong?” Sun Wukong went forward, knelt down and replied, “Your disciple is present.”",0,0.9996898,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 When they awoke again they took up their baskets and returned to the Queen of Heaven, who asked them, “How many peaches have you brought?” When we got to the best peach trees there were no peaches left, for the Great Sage had eaten them all. They replied, “We have only two baskets full of small peaches, and three baskets full of middle size ones.","Startled by her, the Great Sage revealed his true form and whipped out from his ear the golden-hooped rod. One wave and it had the thickness of a rice bowl. “From what region have you come, monsters,” he cried, “that you have the gall to steal my peaches?”",0,0.99966466,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 My mother died. My wife and I are alone. My wife told me that there was only one thing in the world to count on. I couldn't even rely on myself, and when I saw my wife's face, I burst into tears. Then I thought my wife was an unhappy woman. He also said that he was an unhappy woman. I ask my wife why. My wife doesn't understand what I mean. I can't explain it either. My wife cried. “It is because you have always looked at me in your twisted way,” she said reproachfully, “that you can say such things.” ",I was reluctant to say that because I was observing her with a constant twist.,1,0.10932483,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 Everything is ruined—my reputation, my self-respect, all that I have in the world!","If there is anyone who can save me from my shame, restore to me my honourable reputation, and rescue me from poverty, deprivation and unhappiness, it is him, and him alone.",0,0.9994116,1
+"lexical = 80, order = 20 Fedora tells me that, if I like, certain people will be pleased to interest themselves in my position, and will get me a very good position as a governess in a family. What do you think about it, my friend—shall I go, or shall I not? Of course I should not then be a burden upon you, and the situation seems a good one; but, on the other hand, I feel somehow frightened at going into a strange house. They are people with an estate in the country. When they want to know all about me, when they begin asking questions, making inquiries—why, what should I say then?—besides , I am so shy and unsociable, I like to go on living in the corner I am used to. It’s better somehow where one is used to being; even though one spends half one’s time grieving, still it is better. Besides, it means leaving Petersburg; and God knows what my duties will be, either; perhaps they will simply make me look after the children, like a nurse. And they are such queer people, too; they’ve had three governesses already in two years. Do advise me, Makar Alexyevitch, whether to go or not. And why do you never come and see me? You hardly ever show your face, we scarcely ever meet except on Sundays at mass. What an unsociable person you are! You are as bad as I am! And you know I am almost a relation. You don’t love me, Makar Alexyevitch, and I am sometimes very sad all alone. Sometimes, especially when it is getting dark, one sits all alone. Fedora goes off somewhere, one sits and sits and thinks—one remembers all the past, joyful and sad alike —it all passes before one’s eyes, it all rises up as though out of a mist. Familiar faces appear (I am almost beginning to see them in reality)—I see mother most often of all ... And what dreams I have! I feel that I am not at all well, I am so weak; to-day, for instance, when I got out of bed this morning, I turned giddy; and I have such a horrid cough, too! I feel, I know, that I shall soon die. Who will bury me? Who will follow my coffin! Who will grieve for me! ... And perhaps I may have to die in a strange place, in a strange house! ... My goodness! how sad life is, Makar Alexyevitch. Why do you keep feeding me on sweetmeats? I really don’t know where you get so much money from? Ah, my friend, take care of your money, for God’s sake, take care of it. Fedora is selling the cloth rug I have embroidered; she is getting fifty paper roubles for it. That’s very good , I thought it would be less. I shall give Fedora three silver roubles, and shall get a new dress for myself, a plain one but warm. I shall make you a waistcoat , I shall make it myself, and I shall choose a good material.","Go into a family? I should pine away with depression, besides I should be of no use to anyone. I am of a sickly constitution, and so I shall always be a burden on other people. Of course I am not going into a paradise, but what am I to do, my friend, what am I to do?",0,0.9994023,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 Liu Bei and Zhuge Liang went out of the city to welcome the envoy of the South Land and led him to the guest-house. After the usual greetings, Lu Su said, “Hearing of the death of your nephew, my lord Sun Quan has prepared some gifts and sent me to take his place at the funeral sacrifices. General Zhou Yu also sends regards to the Imperial Uncle and to you, Master Zhuge Liang.” Both rose at once and thanked him for the courtesy. Then the gifts were handed over and a banquet prepared, and while it was in progress, the guest brought up the real object of his visit. “You said, Sir, that Jingzhou should be returned to us after the death of Liu Qi. Now that that event has happened, rendition becomes due, and I should be glad to know when the transfer can take place.” “We will discuss that later; in the meantime let us go on with our wine,” said Liu Bei. So the feasting continued. Some time later Lu Su returned to the subject, but this time his host remained silent. However, Zhuge Liang, changing color, said, “Lu Su, you are unreasonable. You could not wait till some other has to explain this matter to you. From the very foundation of the empire by our illustrious ancestor, the great heritage has descended in due course till today when, unhappily, evil doers have risen among the powerful and they have seized upon such portions as they could. But with God's favor and help, unity is nearly restored. My lord is a scion of the Imperial House, a great great grandson of Emperor Myers. Now, as the Emperor's Uncle, should he not have a share of the empire? Moreover, Liu Biao was my lord's elder brother, and there is certainly nothing extraordinary in one brother's succession to another's estate. “What is your master? The son of a petty official on the banks of the River Qiantang, absolutely without merit so far as the state is concerned. If it were not for me to borrow the southeast wind, Zhou Langan would be able to do half of the work? In the battle of Chibi, my lord has to work hard, and all the generals use their lives. He is still greedy and wants to annex the land of Han. Is it only the strength of Ru, Dongwu? In the Liu family, my surname is Liu, but your surname is Sun. Had the South Land been conquered, it is needless to say that the two paramount beauties would now be gracing the Bronze Bird Palace, and as for yourself and other officers, insignificant though your families be, could you have been sure to survive? Just now my lord did not reply because he was willing to believe rather that a scholar of your abilities would understand without a detailed explanation, and I trust now that you will.”","What office do you hold? How dare you falsely display the ensigns of the Prime Minister?” said Liu Bei. “What do you mean by falsely when I simply obeyed my orders?” said Wang Zhong. “My master wanted to produce the impression that he was present. Really he was not there.” Liu Bei treated him kindly, giving him food and clothing; but put him in prison till his colleague could be captured. Guan Yu said to Liu Bei, “I knew you had peaceful intentions in your mind; therefore, I captured Wang Zhong instead of slaying him.”",0,0.9993333,1
+"lexical = 100, order = 100 Then he played whist.","Then he made the acquaintance of a very civil and affable landowner called Manilov, and another, somewhat clumsy-looking, called Sobakevitch who to begin with trod on his foot, saying, “I beg your pardon.” Then they thrust upon him a card for whist, which he accepted with the same polite bow.",0,0.99929035,1
+"lexical = 80, order = 40 MY BELOVED BARBARA ALEXIEVNA,—I hasten to reply to you—I hasten to express to you my extreme astonishment.... In passing, I may mention that yesterday we buried poor Gorshkov.... Yes, Bwikov has acted nobly, and you have no choice but to accept him. All things are in God’s hands. This is so, and must always be so; and the purposes of the Divine Creator are at once good and inscrutable, as also is Fate, which is one with Him... Thedora will share your happiness—for, of course, you will be happy, and free from want, darling, dearest, sweetest of angels! But why should the matter be so hurried? Oh, of course—Monsieur Bwikov’s business affairs. Only a man who has no affairs to see to can afford to disregard such things. I got a glimpse of Monsieur Bwikov as he was leaving your door. He is a fine-looking man—a very fine-looking man; though that is not the point that I should most have noticed had I been quite myself at the time.... In the future shall we be able to write letters to one another? I keep wondering and wondering what has led you to say all that you have said. To think that just when twenty pages of my copying are completed THIS has happened!... I suppose you will be able to make many purchases now—to buy shoes and dresses and all sorts of things? Do you remember the shops in Gorokhovaia Street of which I used to speak?... But no. You ought not to go out at present—you simply ought not to, and shall not. Presently, you will he able to buy many, many things, and to, keep a carriage. Also, at present the weather is bad. Rain is descending in pailfuls, and it is such a soaking kind of rain that—that you might catch cold from it, my darling, and the chill might go to your heart. Why should your fear of this man lead you to take such risks when all the time I am here to do your bidding? So Thedora declares great happiness to be awaiting you, does she? She is a gossiping old woman, and evidently desires to ruin you. Shall you be at the all-night Mass this evening, dearest? I should like to come and see you there. Yes, Bwikov spoke but the truth when he said that you are a woman of virtue, wit, and good feeling. Yet I think he would do far better to marry the merchant’s daughter. What think YOU about it? Yes, ‘twould be far better for him. As soon as it grows dark tonight I mean to come and sit with you for an hour. Tonight twilight will close in early, so I shall soon be with you. Yes, come what may, I mean to see you for an hour. At present, I suppose, you are expecting Bwikov, but I will come as soon as he has gone. So stay at home until I have arrived, dearest.","To think that just when twenty pages of my copying are completed THIS has happened!... I suppose you will be able to make many purchases now—to buy shoes and dresses and all sorts of things? Do you remember the shops in Gorokhovaia Street of which I used to speak?... But no. You ought not to go out at present—you simply ought not to, and shall not. Presently, you will he able to buy many, many things, and to, keep a carriage.",0,0.9992792,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 I will have such and such a dish,” while all the time the poor man will have nothing to eat that day but gruel. There are men, too—wretched busybodies—who walk about merely to see if they can find some wretched tchinovnik or broken-down official who has got toes projecting from his boots or his hair uncut! But what does it matter to you if my hair lacks the shears? And when they have found such a one they make a report of the circumstance, and their rubbish gets entered on the file.... If you will forgive me what may seem to you a piece of rudeness, I declare that the poor man is ashamed of such things with the sensitiveness of a young girl. YOU, for instance, would not care (pray pardon my bluntness) to unrobe yourself before the public eye; and in the same way, the poor man does not like to be pried at or questioned concerning his family relations, and so forth.","And how comes it that the poor man knows, is so conscious of it all? The answer is—by experience. He knows because any day he may see a gentleman enter a restaurant and ask himself, “What shall I have to eat today?",0,0.9992084,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 Leave off worrying yourself, I wonder you are not ashamed. Come, give over, my angel! How is it such thoughts come into your mind?You are not ill, my love, you are not ill at all; you are blooming, you are really blooming; a little pale, but still blooming. And what do you mean by these dreams, these visions? For shame, my darling, give over; you must simply laugh at them. Why do I sleep well? Why is nothing wrong with me? You should look at me, my dear soul. I get along all right , I sleep quietly, I am as healthy and hearty as can be, a treat to look at. Give over, give over, darling, for shame. You must reform. I know your little ways, my dearie; as soon as any . trouble comes, you begin fancying things and worrying about something. For my sake give over, my darling. Go into a family?—Never! No, no, no, and what notion is this of yours? What is this idea that has come over you? And to leave Petersburg too. No, my darling, I won’t allow it. I will use every means in my power to oppose such a plan. I’ll sell my old coat and walk about the street in my shirt before you shall want for anything. No, Varinka, no, I know you! It’s folly, pure folly. And there is no doubt that it is all Fedora’s fault : she’s evidently a stupid woman, she puts all these ideas into your head. Don’t you trust her, my dear girl. You probably don’t know everything yet, my love.... She’s a silly woman, discontented and nonsensical; she worried her husband out of his life. Or perhaps she has vexed you in some way? No, no, my precious, not for anything! And what would become of me then, what would there be left for me to do? No, Varinka darling, you put that out of your little head. What is there wanting in your life with us? We can never rejoice enough over you, you love us, so do go on living here quietly. Sew or read, or don’t sew if you like —it does not matter—only go on living with us or, only think yourself, why, what would it be like without you? ... Here, I will get you some books and then maybe we’ll go for a walk somewhere again. Only you must give over, my dearie, you must give over. Pull yourself together and don’t be foolish over trifles! I’ll come and see you and very soon too. Only accept what I tell you plainly and candidly about it; you are wrong, my darling, very wrong. Of course, I am an ignorant man and I know myself that I am ignorant, that I have hardly a ha’porth of education. But that’s not what I am talking about, and I’m not what matters, but I will stand up for Ratazyaev, say what you like. He writes well, very, very well, and I say it again, he writes very well. I don’t agree with you and I never can agree with you. It’s written in a flowery abrupt style, with figures of speech. There are ideas of all sorts in it, it is very good! Perhaps you read it without feeling, Varinka; you were out of humour when you read it, vexed with Fedora, or something had gone wrong. No, you read it with feeling; best when you are pleased and happy and in a pleasant humour, when, for instance, you have got a sweetmeat in your mouth, that’s when you must read it. I don’t dispute (who denies it?) that there are better writers than Ratazyaev, and very much better in fact, but they are good and Ratazyaev is good too. He writes in his own special way, and does very well to write. Well, good-bye, my precious, I can’t write more; I must make haste, I have work to do. Mind now, my love, my precious little dearie; calm yourself, and God will be with you, and I remain your faithful friend,","And listen, my angel, I really believe it was God who brought you to St Petersburg from Switzerland specially for me. You may well have other business here, but principally you came for my sake. That’s precisely how God sought to arrange it. Au revoir, my dear. Alexandra, be a darling, come and see me later.”",0,0.9991441,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 This lucid explanation took K. aback at first, but he replied in the same subdued voice as the painter: ""It seems to me that you're contradicting yourself."" ""In what way?"" asked the painter patiently, leaning back with a smile. The smile awoke in K. a suspicion that he was now about to expose contradictions not so much in the painter's statements as in the Court procedure itself. However, he did not retreat, but went on: ""You made the assertion earlier that the Court is impervious to proof, later you qualified that assertion by confining it to the public sessions of the Court, and now you actually say that an innocent man requires no help before the Court. That alone implies a contradiction. But, in addition, you said at first that the Judges can be moved by personal intervention, and now you deny that definite acquittal, as you call it, can ever be achieved by personal intervention. In that lies the second contradiction."" ""These contradictions are easy to explain,"" said the painter. ""We must distinguish between two things: what is written in the Law, and what I have discovered through personal experience; you must not confuse the two. In the code of the Law, which admittedly I have not read, it is of course laid down on the one hand that the innocent shall be acquitted, but it is not stated on the other hand that the Judges are open to influence. Now, my experience is diametrically opposed to that. I have not met one case of definite acquittal, and I have met many cases of influential intervention. It is possible, of course, that in all the cases known to me there was none in which the accused was really innocent. But is not that improbable? Among so many cases no single case of innocence? Even as a child I used to listen carefully to my father when he spoke of cases he had heard about; the Judges, too, who came to his studio were always telling stories about the Court, in our circle it is in fact the sole topic of discussion; no sooner did I get the chance to attend the Court myself than I took full advantage of it; I have listened to countless cases in their most crucial stages, and followed them as far as they could be followed, and yet -- I must admit it -- I have never encountered one case of definite acquittal."" ""Not one case of acquittal, then,"" said K. as if he were speaking to himself and his hopes, ""but that merely confirms the opinion that I have already formed of this Court. It is a pointless institution from any point of view. A single executioner could do all that is needed."" ""You mustn't generalize,"" said the painter in displeasure. ""I have only quoted my own experience."" ""That's quite enough,"" said K. ""Or have you ever heard of acquittals in earlier times?"" ""Such acquittals,"" replied the painter, ""are said to have occurred. Only it is very difficult to prove the fact. The final decisions of the Court are never recorded, even the Judges can't get hold of them, consequently we have only legendary accounts of ancient cases. These legends certainly provide instances of acquittal; actually the majority of them are about acquittals, they can be believed, but they cannot be proved. All the same, they shouldn't be entirely left out of account, they must have an element of truth in them, and besides they are very beautiful. I myself have painted several pictures founded on such legends."" ""Mere legends cannot alter my opinion, said K., ""and I fancy that one cannot appeal to such legends before the Court? "" The painter laughed. "" No, one can't do that,"" he said. ""Then there's no use talking about them,"" said K., willing for the time being to accept the painter's opinions, even where they seemed improbable or contradicted other reports he had heard. He had no time now to inquire into the truth of all the painter said, much less contradict it, the utmost he could hope to do was to get the man to help him in some way, even should the help prove inconclusive. Accordingly he said: ""Let us leave definite acquittal out of account, then; you mentioned two other possibilities as well."" ""Ostensible acquittal and postponement. These are the only possibilities,"" said the painter. ""But won't you take off your jacket before we go on to speak of them? You look very hot."" ""Yes,"" said K., who had been paying no attention to anything but the painter's expositions, but now that he was reminded of the heat found his forehead drenched in sweat. ""It's almost unbearable."" The painter nodded as if he comprehended K.'s discomfort quite well. ""Couldn't we open the window? "" asked K. "" No,"" replied the painter. ""It's only a sheet of glass let into the roof, it can't be opened. "" Now K. realized that he had been hoping all the time that either the painter or he himself would suddenly go over to the window and fling it open. He was prepared to gulp down even mouthfuls of fog if be could only get air. The feeling of being completely cut off from the fresh air made his head swim. He brought the flat of his hand down on the feather bed and said in a feeble voice: ""That's both uncomfortable and unhealthy."" ""Oh, no,"" said the painter in defense of his window. ""Because it's hermetically sealed it keeps the warmth in much better than a double window, though it's only a simple pane of glass. And if I want to air the place, which isn't really necessary, for the air comes in everywhere through the chinks, I can always open one of the doors or even both of them."" Somewhat reassured by this explanation, K. glanced round to discover the second door. The painter saw what he was doing and said: ""It's behind you, I had to block it up by putting the bed in front of it."" Only now did K. see the little door in the wall. "" This is really too small for a studio,"" said the painter, as if to forestall K.'s criticisms. ""I had to manage as best I could. Of course it's a bad place for a bed, just in front of that door. The Judge whom I'm painting just now, for instance, always comes in by that door, and I've had to give him a key for it so that he can wait for me in the studio if I happen to be out. Well, he usually arrives early in the morning, while I'm still asleep. And of course however fast asleep I am , it wakes me with a start when the door behind my bed suddenly opens. You would lose any respect you have for the Judges if you could hear the curses that welcome him when he climbs over my bed in the early morning. I could certainly take the key away from him again, but that would only make things worse. It is easy enough to burst open any of the doors here. "" All during these exchanges K. kept considering whether he should take off his jacket, but at last he realized that if he did not he would be incapable of staying any longer in the room, so he took it off, laying it, however, across his knee, to save time in putting it on again whenever the interview was finished. Scarcely had he taken off his jacket when one of the girls cried: ""He's taken off his jacket now,"" and he could hear them all crowding to peer through the cracks and view the spectacle for themselves. "" The girls think,"" said the painter, ""that I'm going to paint your portrait and that's why you are taking off your jacket."" ""I see,"" said K., very little amused, for he did not feel much better than before, although he was now sitting in his shirt-sleeves. Almost morosely he asked: ""What did you say the other two possibilities were?"" He had already forgotten what they were called. "" Ostensible acquittal and indefinite postponement,"" said the painter. ""It lies with you to choose between them. I can help you to either of them, though not without taking some trouble, and, as far as that is concerned, the difference between them is that ostensible acquittal demands temporary concentration, while postponement taxes your strength less but means a steady strain. First, then, let us take ostensible acquittal. If you decide on that, I shall write down on a sheet of paper an affidavit of your innocence. The text for such an affidavit has been handed down to me by my father and is unassailable. Then with this affidavit I shall make a round of the Judges I know, beginning, let us say, with the Judge I am painting now, when he comes for his sitting tonight. I shall lay the affidavit before him, explain to him that you are innocent, and guarantee your innocence myself. And that is not merely a formal guarantee but a real and binding one. "" In the eyes of the painter there was a faint suggestion of reproach that K. should lay upon him the burden of such a responsibility. ""That would be very kind of you,"" said K. ""And the Judge would believe you and yet not give me a definite acquittal?"" ""As I have already explained,"" replied the painter. ""Besides, it is not in the least certain that every Judge will believe me; some Judges, for instance, will ask to see you in person. And then I should have to take you with me to call on them. Though when that happens the battle is already half won, particularly as I should tell you beforehand, of course, exactly what line to take with each Judge. The real difficulty comes with the Judges who turn me away at the start -- and that's sure to happen too. I shall go on petitioning them, of course, but we shall have to do without them, though one can afford to do that, since dissent by individual Judges cannot affect the result. Well then, if I get a sufficient number of Judges to subscribe to the affidavit, I shall then deliver it to the Judge who is actually conducting your trial. Possibly I may have secured his signature too, then everything will be settled fairly soon, a little sooner than usual. Generally speaking, there should be no difficulties worth mentioning after that, the accused at this stage feels supremely confident. Indeed it's remarkable, but true, that people's confidence mounts higher at this stage than after their acquittal. There's no need for them to do much more. The Judge is covered by the guarantees of the other Judges subscribing to the affidavit, and so he can grant an acquittal with an easy mind, and though some formalities will remain to he settled, he will undoubtedly grant the acquittal to please me and his other friends. Then you can walk out of the Court a free man."" ""So then I'm free,"" said K. doubtfully. "" Yes,"" said the painter, ""but only ostensibly free, or more exactly, provisionally free. For the Judges of the lowest grade, to whom my acquaintances belong, haven't the power to grant a final acquittal, that power is reserved for the highest Court of all, which is quite inaccessible to you, to me, and to all of us. What the prospects are up there we do not know and, I may say in passing, do not even want to know. The great privilege, then, of absolving from guilt our Judges do not possess, but they do have the right to take the burden of the charge off your shoulders. That is to say, when you are acquitted in this fashion the charge is lifted from your shoulders for the time being, but it continues to hover above you and can, as soon as an order comes from on high, be laid upon you again. As my connection with the Court is such a close one, I can also tell you how in the regulations of the Law Court offices the distinction between definite and ostensible acquittal is made manifest. In definite acquittal the documents relating to the case are said to be completely annulled, they simply vanish from sight, not only the charge but also the records of the case and even the acquittal are destroyed, everything is destroyed. That's not the case with ostensible acquittal. The documents remain as they were, except that the affidavit is added to them and a record of the acquittal and the grounds for granting it. The whole dossier continues to circulate, as the regular official routine demands, passing on to the higher Courts, being referred to the lower ones again, and thus swinging backwards and forwards with greater or smaller oscillations, longer or shorter delays. These peregrinations are incalculable. A detached observer might sometimes fancy that the whole case had been forgotten, the documents lost, and the acquittal made absolute. No one really acquainted with the Court could think such a thing. No document is ever lost, the Court never forgets anything. One day -- quite unexpectedly -- some Judge will take up the documents and look at them attentively, recognize that in this case the charge is still valid, and order an immediate arrest. I have been speaking on the assumption that a long time elapses between the ostensible acquittal and the new arrest; that is possible and I have known of such cases, but it is just as possible for the acquitted man to go straight home from the Court and find officers already waiting to arrest him again. Then, of course, all his freedom is at an end."" ""And the case begins all over again?"" asked K. almost incredulously. "" Certainly,"" said the painter. ""The case begins all over again, but again it is possible, just as before, to secure an ostensible acquittal. One must again apply all one's energies to the case and never give in. "" These last words were probably uttered because he noticed that K. was looking somewhat collapsed. ""But,"" said K., as if he wanted to forestall any more revelations, ""isn't the engineering of a second acquittal more difficult than the first?"" ""On that point,"" said the painter, ""one can say nothing with certainty. You mean, I take it, that the second arrest might influence the Judges against the accused? That is not so. Even while they are pronouncing the first acquittal the Judges foresee the possibility of the new arrest. Such a consideration, therefore, hardly comes into question. But it may happen, for hundreds of reasons, that the Judges are in a different frame of mind about the case, even from a legal viewpoint, and one's efforts to obtain a second acquittal must consequently be adapted to the changed circumstances, and in general must be every whit as energetic as those that secured tie first one."" ""But this second acquittal isn't final either,"" said K., turning away his head in repudiation. ""Of course not,"" said the painter. ""The second acquittal is followed by the third arrest, the third acquittal by the fourth arrest, and so on. That is implied in the very conception of ostensible acquittal."" K. said nothing. "" Ostensible acquittal doesn't seem to appeal to you,"" said the painter. ""Perhaps postponement would suit you better. Shall I explain to you how postponement works?"" K. nodded. “Protraction,” said the painter, gazing straight ahead for a moment, as if searching for a fully accurate explanation, “protraction is when the trial is constantly kept at the lowest stage. To accomplish this the defendant and his helper, in particular his helper, must remain in constant personal contact with the court. The painter had leaned back expansively in his chair, his nightshirt gaped open, he had shoved a hand inside it and was scratching his chest and sides. Let me point out again that this does not demand such intense concentration of one's energies as an ostensible acquittal, yet on the other hand it does require far greater vigilance. You daren't let the case out of your sight, you visit the Judge at regular intervals as well as in emergencies and must do all that is in your power to keep him friendly; if you don't know the Judge personally, then you must try to influence him through other Judges whom you do know, hut without giving up your efforts to secure a personal interview. If you neglect none of these things, then you can assume with fair certainty that the case will never pass beyond its first stages. Not that the proceedings are quashed, but the accused is almost as likely to escape sentence as if he were free. As against ostensible acquittal postponement has this advantage, that the future of the accused is less uncertain, he is secured from the terrors of sudden arrest and doesn't need to fear having to undergo -- perhaps at a most inconvenient moment -- the strain and agitation which are inevitable in the achievement of ostensible acquittal. Though postponement, too, has certain drawbacks for the accused, and these must not be minimized. In saying this I am not thinking of the fact that the accused is never free; he isn't free either, in any real sense, after the ostensible acquittal. There are other drawbacks. The case can't be held up indefinitely without at least some plausible grounds being provided. So as a matter of form a certain activity must be shown from time to time, various measures have to be taken, the accused is questioned, evidence is collected, and so on. For the case must be kept going all the time, although only in the small circle to which it has been artificially restricted. This naturally involves the accused in occasional unpleasantness, but you must not think of it as being too unpleasant. For it's all a formality, the interrogations, for instance, are only short ones; if you have neither the time nor the inclination to go, you can excuse yourself; with some Judges you can even plan your interviews a long time ahead, all that it amounts to is a formal recognition of your status as an accused man by regular appearances before your Judge."" Already while these last words were being spoken K. had taken his jacket across his arm and got up. "" He's getting up now,"" came the cry at once from behind the door. ""Are you going already?"" asked the painter, who had also got up. ""I'm sure it's the air here that is driving you away. I'm sorry about it. I had a great deal more to tell you. I have had to express myself very briefly. But I hope my statements were lucid enough."" ""Oh, yes,"" said K., whose head was aching with the strain of forcing himself to listen. In spite of K.'s confirmation, the painter went on to sum up the matter again, as if to give him a last word of comfort: ""Both methods have this in common, that they prevent the accused from coming up for sentence."" ""But they also prevent an actual acquittal,"" said K. in a low voice, as if embarrassed by his own perspicacity. ""You have grasped the kernel of the matter,"" said the painter quickly. K. laid his hand on his overcoat, but could not even summon the resolution to put on his jacket. He would have liked best of all to bundle them both together and rush out with them into the fresh air. Even the thought of the girls could not move him to put on his garments, although their voices were already piping the premature news that he was doing so. The painter was anxious to guess K.'s intentions, so he said: ""I take it that you haven't come to any decision yet on my suggestions. That's right. In fact, I should have advised you against it had you attempted an immediate decision. It's like splitting hairs to distinguish the advantages and disadvantages. You must weigh everything very carefully. On the other hand you mustn't lose too much time either."" ""I'll come back again soon,"" said K., in a sudden fit of resolution putting on his jacket, flinging his overcoat across his shoulders, and hastening to the door, behind which the girls at once began shrieking. K. felt he could almost see them through the door. ""But you must keep your word,"" said the painter, who had not followed him, ""or else I'll have to come to the Bank myself to make inquiries."" ""Unlock this door, will you?"" said K., tugging at the handle, which the girls, as he could tell from the resistance, were hanging on to from outside. ""You don't want to be bothered by the girls, do you?"" asked the painter. ""You had better take this way out,"" and he indicated the door behind the bed. K. was perfectly willing and rushed back to the bed. But instead of opening the bedside door the painter crawled right under the bed and said from down there: "" Wait just a minute. Wouldn't you like to see a picture or two that you might care to buy?"" K. did not want to be discourteous, the painter had really taken an interest in him and promised to help him further, also it was entirely owing to K.'s distractedness that the matter of a fee for the painter's services had not been mentioned, consequently he could not turn aside his offer now, and so he consented to look at the pictures, though he was trembling with impatience to be out of the place. Titorelli dragged a pile of unframed canvases from under the bed; they were so thickly covered with dust that when he blew some of it from the topmost, K. was almost blinded and choked by the cloud that flew up. "" Wild Nature, a heathscape,"" said the painter, handing K. the picture. It showed two stunted trees standing far apart from each other in darkish grass. In the background was a many-hued sunset. ""Fine,"" said K., ""I'll buy it."" K.'s curtness had been unthinking and so he was glad when the painter, instead of being offended, lifted another canvas from the floor. ""Here's the companion picture,"" he said. It might be intended as a companion picture, but there was not the slightest difference that one could see between it and the other, here were the two trees, here the grass, and there the sunset. But K. did not bother about that. ""They're fine prospects,"" he said. ""I'll buy both of them and hang them up in my office."" ""You seem to like the subject,"" said the painter, fishing out a third canvas. "" By a lucky chance I have another of these studies here. "" But it was not merely a similar study, it was simply the same wild heathscape again. The painter was apparently exploiting to the full this opportunity to sell off his old pictures. ""I'll take that one as well,"" said K. ""How much for the three pictures?"" ""We'll settle that next time,"" said the painter. ""You're in a hurry today and we're going to keep in touch with each other anyhow. I may say I'm very glad you like these pictures and I'll throw in all the others under the bed as well. They're heathscapes every one of them , I've painted dozens of them in my time. Some people won't have anything to do with these subjects because they're too somber, but there are always people like yourself who prefer somber pictures."" But by now K. had no mind to listen to the professional pronouncements of the peddling painter. ""Wrap the pictures up,"" he cried, interrupting Titorelli's garrulity, ""my attendant will call tomorrow and fetch them."" ""That isn't necessary,"" said the painter. ""I think I can manage to get you a porter to take them along with you now."" And at last he reached over the bed and unlocked the door. ""Don't be afraid to step on the bed,"" he said. ""Everybody who comes here does that. "" K. would not have hesitated to do it even without his invitation, he had actually set one foot plump on the middle of the feather bed, but when he looked out through the open door he drew his foot back again. ""What's this?"" he asked the painter. ""What are you surprised at?"" returned the painter, surprised in his turn. ""These are the Law Court offices. Didn't you know that there were Law Court offices here? There are Law Court offices in almost every attic, why should this be an exception? My studio really belongs to the Law Court offices, but the Court has put it at my disposal. "" It was not so much the discovery of the Law Court offices that startled K.; he was much more startled at himself, at his complete ignorance of all things concerning the Court. He accepted it as a fundamental principle for an accused man to be always forearmed, never to let himself be caught napping, never to let his eyes stray unthinkingly to the right when his judge was looming up on the left -- and against that very principle he kept offending again and again. Before him stretched a long passage, from which was wafted an air compared to which the air in the studio was refreshing. Benches stood on either side of the passage, just as in the lobby of the offices that were handling K.'s case. There seemed, then, to be exact regulations for the interior disposition of these offices. At the moment there was no great coming and going of clients. A man was half sitting, half reclining on a bench, his face was buried in his arms and he seemed to be asleep; another man was standing in the dusk at the end of the passage. K. now stepped over the bed, the painter following him with the pictures. They soon found an usher -- by this time K. recognized these men from the gold button added to the buttons on their ordinary civilian clothing-- and the painter gave him instructions to accompany K. with the pictures. K. tottered rather than walked, keeping his handkerchief pressed to his mouth. They had almost reached the exit when the girls came rushing to meet them, so K. had not been spared even that encounter. The girls had obviously seen the second door of the studio opening and had made a detour at full speed, in order to get in. ""I can't escort you any farther,"" cried the painter laughingly, as the girls surrounded him. "" Till our next meeting. And don't take too long to think it over K. did not even look back. When he reached the street he hailed the first cab that came along. He must get rid of the usher, whose gold button offended his eyes, even though, likely enough, they escaped everyone else's attention. The usher, zealously dutiful, got up beside the coachman on the box, but K. made him get down again. Midday was long past when K. reached the Bank. He would have liked to leave the pictures in the cab, but was afraid that some day he might be required to recall himself to the painter by their means. So he had them carried into his office and locked them in the bottom drawer of his desk, to save them for the next few days at least from the eyes of the Assistant Manager.","K. said nothing, he knew what was coming, but, suddenly relieved from the effort of the work he had been doing, he gave way to a pleasant lassitude and looked out the window at the other side of the street. From where he sat, he could see just a small, triangular section of it, part of the empty walls of houses between two shop windows. “You're staring out the window!” called out his uncle, raising his arms, “For God's sake, Josef, give me an answer! Is it true, can it really be true?” “Uncle Karl,” said K., wrenching himself back from his daydreaming, “I really don't know what it is you want of me.”",0,0.999089,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 100 “Hey, wait, you! What Sabaneyev?"" the clerk shouted, recovering from his surprise and seeming very worried now. “What was he talking about?” he said, turning to the women, who had been watching the scene.",what manners!,0,0.9988305,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 Aramis indeed took up the pen, reflected for a few moments, and set about writing eight or ten lines in a charming little feminine hand. Then, in a soft and slow voice, as if each word had been scrupulously weighed, he read the following: Milord, The person who writes you these lines had the honor of crossing swords with you in a small enclosure on the rue d’Enfer. Watch for her arrival, for she has great and terrible schemes. Twice you have nearly fallen victim to a close relative, a woman you believe to be your heir, because you are ignorant of the fact that before she contracted a marriage in England, she was already married in France. At the third attempt on your life, which is imminent, you may succumb. Be warned that your relative departed La Rochelle for England during the night. If you absolutely must know of what she is capable, her past can be read on the flesh of her left shoulder. As you have obliged him several times since then by professing to be his friend, this person considers it his duty to repay that friendship with a warning. ","As you have been quite willing, several times since then, to call yourself this person’s friend, he owes it to you to repay that friendship with a piece of good advice. Two times you have nearly fallen victim to a close relative, whom you believe to be your heir, because you are unaware that before contracting a marriage in England, she had already married in France. The third time, which is this one, you may succumb. Your relative has left La Rochelle for England during the night. Watch out for her arrival, for she has great and terrible designs. If you absolutely insist on knowing what she is capable of, you may read her past on her left shoulder.",1,0.11008788,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 As I was looking at the grinder, certain thoughts entered my head and I stood wrapped in a reverie. Some cabmen also had halted at the spot, as well as a young girl, with a yet smaller girl who was dressed in rags and tatters. These people had halted there to listen to the organ-grinder, who was playing in front of some one’s windows.","A girl clambered out of the vehicle, wearing a short warm jacket, with a kerchief on her head, and beat on the gate with both fists as though she were beating a man (the “fellow” in the bright-coloured homespun jacket was afterwards dragged down by his legs, for he was sleeping like the dead). Dogs began barking, the gates yawned, and at last, though with difficulty, swallowed up this uncouth monster of the road. The carriage drove into the narrow yard which was filled up with stacks of wood, poultry-houses and sheds; a lady alighted: this lady was no other than Madame Korobotchka. Soon after our hero’s departure, the old lady had been overcome by such anxiety as to the possibility of his deceiving her, that after lying awake for three nights in succession she made up her mind to drive into the town, regardless of the fact that the horses were not shod, hoping there to find out for certain what price dead souls were going for, and whether she had not—God forbid—made a terrible blunder by selling them at a third of their proper price.",0,0.99879336,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 ""Ah! I dare say you're right. You know, Ivan, it must have been so ordained by the Almighty Himself. burst out Fyodor Pavlovitch, striking himself lightly on the forehead. Ah, I'm an ass!"" And we clever people will sit snug and enjoy our brandy. "" Well, your monastery may stand then, Alyosha, if that's how it is. Ivan, speak, is there a God or not?","He, let's say, will lie, that is, a person, sir, a particular case, sir ... incognito, sir, and lie perfectly, in the most cunning manner; here, it seems, would be a triumph, and enjoy the fruits of your wit, and he clap! Yes, in the most interesting, in the most scandalous place, and he will faint. Let's say it's a sickness, stuffiness also sometimes happens in rooms, but all the same, sir! Still got the idea! He lied incomparably, but he did not manage to calculate on nature. There it is, deceit somewhere! Another time, carried away by the playfulness of his wit, he will begin to fool a person who suspects him; he will turn pale as if on purpose, as if in a game, but he will turn pale too naturally, it looks too much like the truth, but again he gave an idea!",0,0.99877447,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 I was only seventeen when I first went into the service – soon I will have spent more than thirty years in this walk of life. Well, indeed, I have worn out enough dress uniforms in my time; I have grown to man’s estate, acquired some shrewdness, and seen something of people; I have lived, and I can say that I have lived in the world, to the extent that once I was even nominated to receive a medal. Perhaps you will not believe me, but I assure you that this is so. And what became of it, little mother? Evil men brought it all to nothing. But I will tell you, my darling, that even though I may be an ignorant man, a stupid man, my heart is the same as anyone else’s. Do you know what an evil man did to me, Varenka? It is shameful to tell what he did – you will ask why he did it. He did it because I am a meek little soul, because I am a quiet, a good little soul! I did not appeal to his taste, and so he let fly at me. It began with him saying things to me like ‘You are this and that, Makar Alekseyevich’; then this turned into: ‘Oh, it is no good asking Makar Alekseyevich!’ And finally this became: ‘It’s all Makar Alekseyevich is fault, of course.’ You see, my darling, how it went; everything was laid at Makar Alekseyevich is door; the name of Makar Alekseyevich became a watchword throughout our entire department. And it was not enough that they made me into a watchword, into a term of abuse, almost – they latched on to my boots, my uniform, my hair, the shape of my body: none of these were to their liking, they must all be changed. And I mean, all this has been repeated every single day of the week since God knows when. I have grown accustomed to it, because I can grow accustomed to anything, because I am a meek man, because I am a little man; but, I ask, what is the reason for it all? What wrong have I ever done anyone? Have I stolen promotion from anyone? Have I ever slandered anyone to the higher-ups? Asked for a bonus I did not deserve? Made up tales? It would be unjust of you even to think of such a thing, little mother. Why would I ever do anything like that? Just look at me, my darling. Do I look as though I had a leaning for perfidy and ambition? So why have such disasters befallen me, in the name of God? After all, you consider me a worthy man, and you are immeasurably better than all of them, little mother. I mean, what is the greatest civic virtue? Yevstafy Ivanovich said the other day in a private conversation I had with him that the most important civic virtue is to know how to make a lot of money. He said, jokingly (I know he was joking), that moral education consists merely in learning how not to be a burden on anyone; and I’m not a burden on anyone! My crust of bread is my own; it’s true that it’s a plain crust of bread, at times even a dry one; but there it is, earned by my labours and consumed lawfully and unexceptionably. Well, what can one do? I mean, I know that the copying I do is not much of a job; yet, even so, I am proud of it: I work in the sweat of my brow. So what is wrong with the fact that I earn my living by copying? Is copying a sin? ‘ He just copies documents,’ they say. ‘That rat of a government clerk makes his living by copying!’ Yet what is dishonourable about it? My handwriting is clear, well-formed and pleasant to look at, and His Excellency is satisfied with it; I copy his most important documents for him. Of course, I have no literary style, I mean, I know I have none , curse it; that is why I have not succeeded in rising in the service, and why even now, my darling, I write to you in this plain manner, with no frills, just as the thoughts come into my heart… All this I know; and indeed, if everyone were to start being an author, who would do the copying? That is the question I ask you, and I beg you to answer it, little mother. Well, so now I am aware that I am necessary, that I am indispensable, and that a man is silly to be upset by non sense. All right, let me be a rat, since they’ve found a resemblance! But this rat is needed, this rat is of use, this rat is relied upon, and this rat receives a bonus – that’s the sort of rat it ’s! But enough of this subject, my darling; I did not really wish to speak of it, but got carried away a little in the heat of the moment. All the same, it is pleasant to do oneself justice from time to time. Goodbye, my darling, my little dove, my kind consoler! I will come and see you, I promise I will; I shall call on you, my treasure. And in the meantime, don’t pine. I shall bring you a book. Well, goodbye, Varenka.","What therefore, ought I to do? I know that I can earn but little by my labours as a copyist; yet even of that little I am proud, for it has entailed WORK, and has wrung sweat from my brow.",0,0.9987551,1
+"lexical = 80, order = 20 Next evening, when everyone in the house had gone to bed, Pokrovsky opened his door and began to talk to me, standing on the threshold of his room. I do not remember now a single word of what we said to each other; all I remember is that I was shy and confused, that I was annoyed with myself and awaited the end of our conversation with impatience, even though I had desired it with all my heart, had spent the whole day dreaming about it and preparing my questions and replies… The beginnings of our friendship dated from that evening. Throughout the entire duration of Mother’s illness we spent several hours of every night in each other’s company. Little by little I overcame my shyness, although after each of our conversations I would always find something to be annoyed with myself about. However that may have been, I none the less saw with secret delight and proud satisfaction that he was forgetting his wretched books because of me. Quite casually, almost in jest, our conversation once touched on the subject of their fall from the shelf. It was a strange moment – I was almost too open and candid; the heat of the moment and a strange enthusiasm carried me away, and I confessed everything to him… that I wanted to study, to know a few things , that I found it annoying to be regarded as a little girl, a child… I repeat that I was in a very strange mood; my heart was soft, there were tears in my eyes – I hid nothing and told him everything, everything – about my feelings of friendship for him, about my desire to live with him united in love, to console him, to calm him. He gave me a strange look which contained both embarrassment and amazement, and did not say a word. I suddenly felt terribly hurt and sad. It seemed to me that he did not understand me, that he might even be laughing at me. I suddenly started to cry like a child, sobbing, unable to control myself; it was as though I had succumbed to a kind of fit. He seized my hands, kissed them, held them to his breast, tried to reassure me, to console me; he was deeply moved. I do not remember what he said to me, only that I both wept and laughed, and once more wept, blushed, and was unable to utter a word for joy. Yet for all my emotional turmoil, I observed that Pokrovsky was still tense and embarrassed. He seemed to be unable to stop wondering at my animation, my enthusiasm, my so suddenly manifested, warm, ardent feelings of affection for him. Perhaps initially he had been merely curious; subsequently his lack of resolve disappeared, and he accepted, with the same simple directness as I, my attachment to him, my friendly words and my attention, and responded to it all with the same degree of attention, as kindly and amicably as if he were my sincere friend, my own brother. My heart felt so warm, so good!… I made no attempt to conceal my feelings from him, I kept nothing back; he saw it all, and with every day that passed became more attached to me.","Until that time I had never paid him even the briefest visit, even though we had been living next door to each other for more than a year. On this occasion my heart beat so violently that I thought it might burst out of me. I looked around me with intense curiosity. Pokrovsky’s room was very shabbily furnished; it was not very tidy. Five long bookshelves containing books had been nailed to the walls. The table and the chairs were heaped with papers. Books and papers! I suddenly had a strange thought, and at the same time a nasty sense of disappointment took hold of me. It seemed that my friendship and my loving heart were of little account to him. He was educated, while I was stupid and knew nothing, had read nothing, not a single book…",0,0.9986749,1
+"lexical = 80, order = 60 Next he asked me some questions about YOU; saying that he had heard of you as a man of good principle, and that since he was unwilling to remain your debtor, would a sum of five hundred roubles repay you for all you had done for me? To this I replied that your services to myself had been such as could never be requited with money; whereupon, he exclaimed that I was talking rubbish and nonsense; that evidently I was still young enough to read poetry; that romances of this kind were the undoing of young girls, that books only corrupted morality, and that, for his part, he could not abide them. “You ought to live as long as I have done,” he added, “and THEN you will see what men can be.” With that he requested me to give his proposal my favourable consideration—saying that he would not like me to take such an important step unguardedly, since want of thought and impetuosity often spelt ruin to youthful inexperience, but that he hoped to receive an answer in the affirmative. “Otherwise,” said he, “I shall have no choice but to marry a certain merchant’s daughter in Moscow, in order that I may keep my vow to deprive my nephew of the inheritance. ” —Then he pressed five hundred roubles into my hand—to buy myself some bonbons, as he phrased it—and wound up by saying that in the country I should grow as fat as a doughnut or a cheese rolled in butter; that at the present moment he was extremely busy; and that, deeply engaged in business though he had been all day, he had snatched the present opportunity of paying me a visit. At length he departed. For a long time I sat plunged in reflection. Great though my distress of mind was, I soon arrived at a decision....","Now, how much I am indebted to you I realised when you told me that you were spending for my benefit the sum which you are always reported to have laid by at your bankers; but, now that I have learned that you never possessed such a fund, but that, on hearing of my destitute plight, and being moved by it, you decided to spend upon me the whole of your salary—even to forestall it—and when I had fallen ill, actually to sell your clothes—when I learned all this I found myself placed in the harassing position of not knowing how to accept it all, nor what to think of it. Ah, Makar Alexievitch! You ought to have stopped at your first acts of charity—acts inspired by sympathy and the love of kinsfolk, rather than have continued to squander your means upon what was unnecessary. Yes, you have betrayed our friendship, Makar Alexievitch, in that you have not been open with me; and, now that I see that your last coin has been spent upon dresses and bon-bons and excursions and books and visits to the theatre for me, I weep bitter tears for my unpardonable improvidence in having accepted these things without giving so much as a thought to your welfare.",0,0.9986541,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 You must sleep with the sisters in Bakke, do I think you remember that your brother-in-law said? ""","Sister Feng said, Your grandmother is so anxious."" Sister Feng walked slowly and asked, ""How long have you been singing? """,0,0.9985896,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 After adding to this amount the thousand and something rubles he had to pay Pshenitsyna, he was too frightened to do the sum and merely picked up his pace and ran to see Olga. “Horrors! Horrors!” he repeated, covering his ears as he fled from the stunned porters.","Ptitsyn spent seventeen years sleeping rough, he peddled penknives in the street and built things up from nothing. Now he’s got a cool sixty thousand but it’s come through sheer hard graft! Well, I’ll bypass all this graft and have a head start. In fifteen years’ time they’ll say, ‘Look, there’s Ivolgin, the King of the Jews.’” You tell me that I lack originality.",0,0.99854493,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 This is what happened! I will write to you regardless of style, just as God puts it into my heart. I went to the office to-day. I went in , I sat down, I began writing. And you must know, Varinka, that I was writing yesterday too. Well, this is how it was:Timofey Ivanovitch came up to me and was pleased to explain to me in person, “The document is wanted in a hurry,” said he. “Copy it very clearly as quickly as possible and carefully, Makar Alexyevitch,” he said; “it goes to be signed today.” I must observe, my angel, that I was not myself yesterday, I could not bear the sight of anything; such a mood of sadness and depression had come over me! It was cold in my heart and dark in my soul, you were in my mind all the while, my little dearie. But I set to work to copy it; I copied it clearly, legibly, only—I really don’t know how to explain it—whether the devil himself muddled me, or whether it was ordained by some secret decree of destiny, or simply it had to be—but I left out a whole line, goodness knows what sense it made, it simply made none at all. They were late with the document yesterday and only took it to his Excellency to be signed to-day. I turned up this morning at the usual hour as though nothing had happened and settled myself beside Emelyan Ivanovitch. I must observe, my own, that of late I have been more abashed and ill at ease than ever. Of late I have given up looking at anyone. If I hear so much as a chair creak I feel more dead than alive. That is just how it was to-day, I sat down like a hedgehog crouched up and shrinking into myself, so that Efim Akimovitch (there never was such a fellow for teasing) said in the hearing of all: “Why are you sitting like a picture of misery, Makar Alexyevitch?” And he made such a grimace that everyone sitting near him and me went off into roars of laughter, and at my expense of course. And they went on and on. I put my hands over my ears, and screwed up my eyes, I sat without stirring. That’s what I always do; they leave off the sooner. Suddenly I heard a noise, a fuss and a bustle; I heard—did not my ears deceive me?—they were mentioning me, asking for me, calling Dyevushkin. My heart began shuddering within me, and I don’t know myself why I was so frightened ; I only know I was panic-stricken as I had never been before in my life. I sat rooted to my chair—as though there were nothing the matter, as though it were not I. But they began getting nearer and nearer. And at last, close to my ear, they were calling, “Dyevushkin, Dyevushkin! Where is Dyevushkin?” I raised my eyes: Yevstafy Ivanovitch stood before me; he said: “Makar Alexyevitch, make haste to his Excellency! You’ve made a mistake in that document!” That was all he said, but it was enough; enough had been said, hadn’t it, Varinka? Half dead, frozen with terror, not knowing what I was doing, I went—why, I was more dead than alive. I was led through one room, through a second, through a third, to his Excellency’s study. I was in his presence! I can give you no exact account of what my thoughts were then. I saw his Excellency standing up, they were all standing round him. I believe I did not bow, I forgot. I was so flustered that my lips were trembling, my legs were trembling. And I had reason to be, my dear girl! To begin with, I was ashamed; I glanced into the looking-glass on the right hand and what I saw there was enough to send one out of one’s mind. And in the second place, I had always tried to behave as if there were no such person in the world. So that his Excellency could hardly have been aware of my existence. Perhaps he may have heard casually that there was a clerk called Dyevushkin in the office, but he had never gone into the matter more closely.","At last it was right next to my ear: ‘ Devushkin! Devushkin! Where is Devushkin?’ I raised my eyes: before me stood Yevstafy Ivanovich; he said: ‘Makar Alekseyevich, you’ve to go to His Excellency, at the double! You’ve made a mistake in a document!’ That was all he said, but it was enough, little mother, don’t you think! I went numb, froze, lost all feeling; and began to walk, more dead than alive.",0,0.9985221,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 What you need now is fresh air, fresh air, fresh air!” But keep your good heart and have less fear! I know that you don’t believe it, but life, in fact, will bring you through. You will live it down in time. There is justice in it. You must fulfill the demands of justice. Are you afraid of the great atonement before you? Since you have taken such a step, you must harden your heart. No, it would be shameful to be afraid of it.","After all, I live for you alone, and for you I remain with you. So you are now! Be a noble man, firm in adversity; remember that poverty is not a vice. And why despair: it's all temporary! God willing, everything will get better, only you can hold on now. I am sending you two kopecks, buy yourself tobacco or whatever you want, but for God's sake don't waste it on bad things.",0,0.9985221,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 He began, angrily: “What were you about, sir? Where were your eyes? The copy was wanted; it was wanted in a hurry, and you spoil it.” At this point, his Excellency turned toYevstafy Ivanovitch. I could only catch a word here and there: “Negligence! Carelessness! You will get us into difficulties!” I would have opened my mouth to say something. I wanted to beg for forgiveness, but I could not; I wanted to run away, but dared not attempt it, and then ... then, Varinka, something happened so awful that I can hardly hold my pen, for shame, even now. A button—the devil take the button—which was hanging by a thread on my uniform—suddenly flew off, bounced on the floor (I must have caught hold of it accidentally) with a jingle, the damned thing, and rolled straight to his Excellency’s feet, and that in the midst of a profound silence! And that was my only justification, my sole apology, my only answer, all that I had to say to his Excellency! What followed was awful. His Excellency’s attention was at once turned to my appearance and my attire. I remembered what I had seen in the looking-glass; I flew to catch the button! Some idiocy possessed me! I bent down, I tried to pick up the button—it twirled and rolled, I couldn’t pick it up—in fact, I distinguished myself by my agility. Then I felt that my last faculties were deserting me, that everything, everything was lost, my whole reputation was lost, my dignity as a man was lost, and then, apropos of nothing, I had the voices ofTeresa and Faldoni ringing in my ears. At last I picked up the button, stood up and drew myself erect, and if I were a fool I might at least have stood quietly with my hands at my sides! But not a bit of it. I began fitting the button to the torn threads as though it might hang on, and I actually smiled, actually smiled. His Excellency turned away at first, then he glanced at me again— I heard him say to Yevstafy Ivanovitch: “How is this? ... Look at him! ... What is he? ... What sort of man? ...” Ah, my own, think of that! “What is he?” and, “what sort of man?” I had distinguished myself! I heard Yevstafy Ivanovitch say: “No note against him, no note against him for anything, behaviour excellent, salary in accordance with his grade ...” “Well, assist him in some way, let him have something in advance,” says his Excellency.... “But he has had an advance,” he said; “he has had his salary in advance for such and such a time. He is apparently in difficulties, but his conduct is good, and there is no note, there never has been a note against him.” My angel, I was burning, burning in the fires of hell! I was dying.... “Well,” said his Excellency, “make haste and copy it again; Dyevushkin, come here, copy it over again without a mistake; and listen ...” Here his Excellency turned to the others, gave them various instructions and they all went away. As soon as they had gone, his Excellency hurriedly took out his notebook and from it took a hundred-rouble note. “Here,” said he, “take it as you like, so far as I can help you, take it .. ” and he thrust it into my hand. I trembled, my angel, my whole soul was quivering; I don’t know what happened to me, I tried to seize his hand to kiss it, but he flushed crimson, my darling, and—here I am not departing one hair’s breadth from the truth, my own—he took my unworthy hand and shook it, just took it and shook it, as though I had been his equal, as though I had been just such a General as himself. “You can go,” he said; “whatever I can do for you ... don’t make mistakes, but there, no great harm done this time.”","I could actually have died! “Well, well,” said his Excellency, “let him copy out the document a second time. Dievushkin, come here. You are to make another copy of this paper, and to make it as quickly as possible.” With that he turned to some other officials present, issued to them a few orders, and the company dispersed. No sooner had they done so than his Excellency hurriedly pulled out a pocket-book, took thence a note for a hundred roubles, and, with the words, “Take this. It is as much as I can afford. Treat it as you like,” placed the money in my hand! At this, dearest, I started and trembled, for I was moved to my very soul. What next I did I hardly know, except that I know that I seized his Excellency by the hand.",0,0.99847525,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 K. didn't bother with him and the people in the corridor for long, especially since he saw the possibility of turning right through a doorless opening about halfway down the corridor. He agreed with the bailiff whether that was the right way, the bailiff nodded, and K. actually turned in there. It bothered him that he always had to walk a step or two in front of the bailiff, at least in this place it could appear as if he was being brought under arrest. So he often waited for the bailiff, but he stayed right back. Finally K. said, to put an end to his discomfort: ""Now I've seen what it looks like here , I want to go away now."" ""You haven't seen everything yet,"" said the bailiff, completely innocently. ' I don't want to see everything,' said K., who actually felt really tired, 'I want to go, how do you get to the exit?' 'You haven't lost your way already?' to the corner and then right down the corridor straight to the door."" ""Come with me,"" said K., ""show me the way , I'll miss it, there are so many ways here."" ""It's the only way ' said the bailiff reproachfully, 'I can't go back with you , I have to report and I've wasted a lot of time because of you.' caught the bailiff in an untruth. ' Don't yell like that,' the bailiff whispered, 'there are offices everywhere here. If you don't want to go back alone, walk with me a little longer or wait here until I've finished my report, then I'd be happy to go back with you."" The man had said that nobody would pay any attention to him, and now two people were already after him, it wouldn't take much to bring all the officials down on him, demanding an explanation of his presence. "" K. had not yet even glanced round the place where he was, and only when one of the many wooden doors opened did he turn his head. K. looked at the usher. "" A good way behind her he could also see a male figure approaching in the half-light. ""No, no,"" said K., ""I won't wait and you must come with me now. And it seemed, indeed, that he had been right in that assumption, he did not want to make any further investigation, he was dejected enough by what he had already seen, he was not at that moment in a fit state to confront any higher official such as might appear from behind one of these doors, he wanted to quit the place with the usher, or, if need be, alone. The only comprehensible and acceptable one was that he was an accused man and wished to know the date of his next interrogation, but that explanation he did not wish to give, especially as it was not even in accordance with the truth, for he had come only out of curiosity or, what was still more impossible as an explanation of his presence, out of a desire to assure himself that the inside of this legal system was just as loathsome as its external aspect. A girl whose attention must have been caught by K.'s raised voice appeared and asked: ""What does the gentleman want ? ","We knew that you were a defendant. News like that spreads very quickly."" ""So you already knew that,"" said K., ""but then my behavior might have seemed arrogant to you. Didn't they talk about it?"" ""No,"" said the merchant, ""on the contrary. But that's stupidity.' ' What kind of stupidity?' asked K. 'Why are you asking about it?'",0,0.99847525,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 MY DEAREST MAKAR ALEXIEVITCH,—I am in terrible distress. I feel sure that something is about to happen. The matter, my beloved friend, is that Monsieur Bwikov is again in St. Petersburg, for Thedora has met him. He was driving along in a drozhki, but, on meeting Thedora, he ordered the coachman to stop, sprang out, and inquired of her where she was living; but this she would not tell him. Next, he said with a smile that he knew quite well who was living with her (evidently Anna Thedorovna had told him); whereupon Thedora could hold out no longer, but then and there, in the street, railed at and abused him—telling him that he was an immoral man, and the cause of all my misfortunes. To this he replied that a person who did not possess a groat must surely be rather badly off; to which Thedora retorted that I could always either live by the labour of my hands or marry—that it was not so much a question of my losing posts as of my losing my happiness, the ruin of which had led almost to my death. In reply he observed that, though I was still quite young, I seemed to have lost my wits, and that my “virtue appeared to be under a cloud” (I quote his exact words). Both I and Thedora had thought that he does not know where I live; but, last night, just as I had left the house to make a few purchases in the Gostinni Dvor, he appeared at our rooms (evidently he had not wanted to find me at home), and put many questions to Thedora concerning our way of living. Then, after inspecting my work, he wound up with: “Who is this tchinovnik friend of yours?” At the moment you happened to be passing through the courtyard, so Thedora pointed you out, and the man peered at you, and laughed. Thedora next asked him to depart—telling him that I was still ill from grief, and that it would give me great pain to see him there; to which, after a pause, he replied that he had come because he had had nothing better to do. Also, he was for giving Thedora twenty-five roubles, but, of course, she declined them. What does it all mean? Why has he paid this visit? I cannot understand his getting to know about me. I am lost in conjecture. Thedora, however, says that Aksinia, her sister-in-law (who sometimes comes to see her), is acquainted with a laundress named Nastasia, and that this woman has a cousin in the position of watchman to a department of which a certain friend of Anna Thedorovna’s nephew forms one of the staff. Can it be, therefore, that an intrigue has been hatched through THIS channel? But Thedora may be entirely mistaken. We hardly know what to think. What if he should come again? The very thought terrifies me. When Thedora told me of this last night such terror seized upon me that I almost swooned away. What can the man be wanting? At all events, I refuse to know such people. What have they to do with my wretched self? Ah, how I am haunted with anxiety, for every moment I keep thinking that Bwikov is at hand! WHAT will become of me? WHAT MORE has fate in store for me? For Christ’s sake come and see me, Makar Alexievitch! For Christ’s sake come and see me soon!","He asked Fyodor for a long time about our life; everything was considered by us; looked at my work, finally asked: “What kind of official is this, who is familiar with you?” At that time you passed through the yard; Fyodor pointed you out to him; he looked and smiled; Fyodor begged him to leave, told him that I was already unwell from grief and that it would be very unpleasant for me to see him with us. He said nothing; he said that he used to come like that, having nothing to do, and wanted to give Fyodor twenty-five rubles; She, of course, didn't take it. What would that mean? Why did he come to us? I can't figure out how he knows everything about us! I'm at a loss.",0,0.99847525,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 20 This is a long epistle that I am sending you, but the reason is that today I feel in good spirits after dining at Rataziaev’s. There I came across a novel which I hardly know how to describe to you. Do not think the worse of me on that account, even though I bring you another book instead (for I certainly mean to bring one). The novel in question was one of Paul de Kock’s, and not a novel for you to read. No, no! Such a work is unfit for your eyes. In fact, it is said to have greatly offended the critics of St. Petersburg. Also, I am sending you a pound of bonbons—bought specially for yourself. Each time that you eat one, beloved, remember the sender. Only, do not bite the iced ones, but suck them gently, lest they make your teeth ache.","Good deeds never go unrewarded, and virtue will sooner or later be rewarded by the eternal justice of God. Varinka! I wanted to write to you a great deal; I could go on writing and writing every minute, every hour! I have one of your books still, Byelkin’s Stories. I tell you what, Varinka, don’t take it away, make me a present of it, my darling. It is not so much that I want to read it. But you know yourself, my darling, winter is coming on: the evenings will be long; it will be sad, and then I could read. I shall move from my lodgings, Varinka, into your old room and lodge with Fedora.",0,0.9984269,1
+"lexical = 80, order = 20 Your latest doings and letters have frightened, shocked, and amazed me, and what Fedora tells me has explained it all. But what reason had you to be so desperate and to sink to such a depth as you have sunk to, Makar Alexyevitch? Your explanation has not satisfied me at all. Isn’t it clear that I was right in trying to insist on taking the situation that was offered me? Besides, my last adventure has thoroughly frightened me. You say that it’s your love for me that makes you keep in hiding from me. I saw that I was deeply indebted to you while you persuaded me that you were only spending your savings on me, which you said you had lying by in the bank in case of need. Now, when I learn that you had no such money at all, but, hearing by chance of my straitened position, and touched by it, you actually spent your salary, getting it in advance, and even sold your clothes when I was ill—now that I have discovered all this I am put in such an agonising position that I still don’t know how to take it, and what to think about it. Oh, Makar Alexyevitch! You ought to have confined yourself to that first kind help inspired by sympathy and the feeling of kinship and not have wasted money afterwards on luxuries. You have been false to our friendship, Makar Alexyevitch, for you weren’t open with me. And now, when I see that you were spending your last penny on finery, on sweetmeats, on excursions, on the theatre and on books—now I am paying dearly for all that in regret for my frivolity (for I took it all from you without troubling myself about you); and everything with which you tried to give me pleasure is now turned to grief for me, and has left nothing but useless regret. I have noticed your depression of late, and, although I was nervously apprehensive of some trouble, what has happened never entered my head. What! Could you lose heart so completely, Makar Alexyevitch! Why, what am I to think of you now, what will everyone who knows you say of you now? You, whom I always respected for your good heart, your discretion, and your good sense. You have suddenly given way to such a revolting vice, of which one saw no sign in you before. What were my feelings when Fedora told me you were found in the street in a state of inebriety, and were brought home to your lodgings by the police! I was petrified with amazement, though I did expect something extraordinary, as there had been no sign of you for four days. Have you thought, Makar Alexyevitch, what your chiefs at the office will say when they learn the true cause of your absence? You say that everyone laughs at you, that they all know of our friendship, and that your neighbours speak of me in their jokes, too. Don’t pay any attention to that, Makar Alexyevitch, and for goodness’ sake, calm yourself. I am alarmed about your affair with those officers, too; I have heard a vague account of it. Do explain what it all means. You write that you were afraid to tell me, that you were afraid to lose my affection by your confession, that you were in despair, not knowing how to help me in my illness, that you sold everything to keep me and prevent my going to hospital, that you got into debt as far as you possibly could, and have unpleasant scenes every day with your landlady—but you made a mistake in concealing all this from me. Now I know it all, however. You were reluctant to make me realise that I was the cause of your unhappy position, and now you have caused me twice as much grief by your behaviour. All this has shocked me, Makar Alexyevitch. Oh, my dear friend! misfortune is an infectious disease, the poor and unfortunate ought to avoid one another, for fear of making each other worse. I have brought you trouble such as you knew nothing of in your old humble and solitary existence. All this is distressing and killing me.","Listen, my friend, you are either holding back something from me and have written me only a part of all your troubles, or ... really, Makar Alekseevich, your letters still reek of some kind of frustration ... Come to me, for God's sake, come today; Yes, listen, you know, so come directly to us for dinner.",0,0.9984269,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 , you put on, perhaps, on their account.","In any case, therefore, I should have needed boots to maintain my name and reputation; to both of which my ragged footgear would otherwise have spelled ruin.",1,0.11047115,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 The buzz of adventure reached the church with unusual speed. When Keller passed to the prince, many people who were completely unfamiliar to him rushed to question him. There was a loud conversation, head shaking, even laughter; no one left the church, everyone was waiting for the bridegroom to accept the news. He turned pale, but received the news quietly, saying in barely audible voice: “I was afraid; but I still didn’t think it would be…” and then, after a pause, he added: “However… in her condition… it’s completely in the order of things.” Keller himself later called such a review ""unparalleled philosophy. "" The prince left the church, apparently calm and cheerful; so, at least, many noticed and then told. He seemed to want very much to get home and be alone as soon as possible; but this was not given to him. Following him, some of the invitees entered the room, among others Ptitsyn, Gavrila Ardalionovich, and with them the doctor, who also did not want to leave. In addition, the whole house was literally besieged by an idle public. Even from the terrace, the prince heard how Keller and Lebedev entered into a fierce argument with some completely unknown, although seemingly bureaucratic people, who at all costs wanted to enter the terrace. The prince approached the arguing, inquired what was the matter and, politely pushing Lebedev and Keller aside, delicately turned to one already gray-haired and thick-set gentleman, who was standing on the steps of the porch at the head of several others, and invited him to do the honor of honoring him with his visit. The gentleman was embarrassed, but, nevertheless, he went; followed by another, third. From the whole crowd, about seven or eight visitors turned up, who entered, trying to make it as cheeky as possible; but there were no more hunters, and soon, in the crowd, they began to condemn the upstarts. Those who entered were seated, a conversation began, tea was served—all this was extremely decent, modest, to some surprise of those who entered. There were, of course, several attempts to lighten up the conversation and point to the ""proper"" topic; Several immodest questions were uttered, several ""dashing"" remarks were made. The prince answered everyone so simply and cordially, and at the same time with such dignity, with such trust in the decency of his guests, that indiscreet questions subsided by themselves. Little by little, the conversation began to become almost serious. Since he was addressing the Prince, the latter deferred to him eagerly despite the fact that Lebedev was at pains to whisper in his ear that this gentleman was as poor as a church mouse and had never owned a scrap of land in his life. True, there were some attempts to ask for champagne, but the more senior of the guests managed to restrain the junior ones. One querulous gentleman suddenly announced with an oath that he would not sell up his land whatever happened; that on the contrary he would sit on it and bide his time; that enterprise is better than dormant capital: “That, my dear sir, is the substance of my economic theory, let me tell you.” About an hour passed. The tea-drinking came to an end, and the guests began at last to feel uncomfortable prolonging their stay. The doctor and the grey-haired gentleman took fervent leave of the Prince; the rest too were equally outgoing and noisy in bidding their respective farewells. After everybody had gone, Keller leant across to Lebedev and confided to him, “ The likes of us two would have made a lot of fuss, started a fight, disgraced ourselves, called the police, but he has made new friends – excellent ones at that! I know them!” Valedictions were pronounced as well as opinions on the lines that there was no need for regrets and that perhaps it was all for the best anyway, and so on. Lebedev, who was quite “ready,” sighed and said: “Hidden from the wise and reasonable and revealed to babies, I said this before about him, but now I add that God saved the baby himself, saved him from the abyss, he and all his saints!""","One gentleman, attached to the word, suddenly swore, in extreme indignation, that he would not sell the estate, no matter what happened; that, on the contrary, it will wait and wait and that “enterprises are better than money”; ""here, sir, what my economic system consists of, you can find out, sir."" Since he was addressing the prince, the prince enthusiastically praised him, despite the fact that Lebedev whispered in his ear that this gentleman had neither a stake nor a yard and had never had any estate. Almost an hour passed, they drank tea, and after tea the guests finally felt ashamed to sit still longer. The doctor and the gray-haired gentleman took leave of the prince with warmth; and everyone said goodbye to heat and noise. Wishes and opinions were uttered, such as ""there is nothing to grieve and that, perhaps, everything is for the best,"" and so on. True, there were attempts to ask for champagne, but the older guests stopped the younger ones. When everyone dispersed, Keller leaned over to Lebedev and told him: “We would start a shout with you, fight, disgrace ourselves, attract the police; and he made new friends for himself, and what kind of friends; I know them!"".",1,0.11047115,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 According to the two ridiculous Alexandrians of Sieur Arouet, I will say to Saint-Loup, to charm his clericalism: “Learn that my duty does not depend on his, that he fails in it if he wants, I must do mine. But all I thought about was seeing Albertine again and trying to get to know her friends, and Doncières, as they weren't going there and I would be back after the time they went to the beach, seemed to me to be at the end of the world. . Well, I'll go alone. “I recognize that he is quite a pretty fellow,” said Albertine to me, “but how disgusting he is! I had never dreamed that Bloch could be a pretty boy; he was, indeed. I told Bloch that was impossible for me. ""","But I thought now only of seeing Albertine again, and of trying to get to know her friends, and Doncières, since they were not going there, and my going would bring me back too late to see them still on the beach, seemed to me to be situated at the other end of the world. I told Bloch that it was impossible. Oh, very well, I shall go alone. In the fatuous words of Master Arouet, I shall say to Saint–Loup, to beguile his clericalism: 'My duty stands alone, by his in no way bound; Though he should choose to fail, yet faithful I'll be found.'"" ""I admit he's not a bad looking boy,"" was Albertine's comment, ""but he makes me feel quite sick. "" I had never thought that Bloch might be 'not a bad looking boy'; and yet, when one came to think of it, so he was.",1,0.11047115,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 His even brows emerged more sharply, and his eyes shone deep and black. He seemed to be impervious to the burning sun and the harsh sea air—his skin retained its original marble yellow—but today he appeared even paler than usual, either because of the chill or the bleaching effect of the artificial moonlight. On one occasion, however, in the evening, things turned out differently. He was getting some fresh air after the meal, strolling in formal evening attire and a straw hat at the foot of the hotel’s front terrace, feeling quite uneasy about their whereabouts, when he suddenly saw the nunlike sisters and their tutor appear in the light of the arc lamps. Tadzio was four steps behind. It must have been cool out on the water. Tadzio wore a dark blue seaman’s jacket with gold buttons and a matching cap on his head. The Polish children and their governess had been absent from dinner in the main dining room—a fact that Aschenbach had noted with great concern. They were obviously returning from the vaporetto landing, having dined, for whatever reason, in the city.","But once, one evening, things happened differently. The Polish siblings, along with their governess, were absent from the main meal in the large hall— Aschenbach noticed this with concern. He was walking towards the table, very worried about their whereabouts, in evening suit and straw hat in front of the hotel, at the foot of the terrace, when he suddenly saw the nun-like sisters with the governess and Tadzio four paces behind them appear in the light of the arc lamps. Apparently they came from the steamer bridge, having fed into town for some reason. It must have been cool on the water; Tadzio was wearing a dark blue seaman's overcoat with gold buttons and a matching cap on his head. Sun and sea air did not burn him, his skin color remained marble-like yellowish as at the beginning; but he seemed paler today than usual, either from the coolness or from the paling moonlight of the lamps. His even brows stood out more sharply, his eyes darkened deeply.",1,0.11047115,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 Having said this, he suddenly, silently and with a smile, extended his hand to his sister. “I don’t even dare to talk about you, mother,” he continued as if he had learned a lesson from the morning, “only today I could figure out how you must have been exhausted here, yesterday, in anticipation of my return. - But in this smile there was a flash of real feeling. Dunia caught it at once, and warmly pressed his hand, overjoyed and thankful. It was the first time he had spoken to her since their argument the previous day. The mother’s face lighted up with ecstatic happiness at the sight of this conclusive unspoken reconciliation.","In reply to this he observed that I was still far too young, that my head was still in a ferment and that even our virtues were getting a little tarnished (his words). Fedora and I thought he didn’t know where our apartment was, but then suddenly, yesterday, just after I had gone out to do some shopping in the Gostiny Dvor, he walked into our room; he apparently wished to avoid me. He spent a long time asking Fedora questions about the life we were leading; he examined all our possessions, looked at my work, and then asked: ‘Who’s this clerk who knows you?’ At that moment you were crossing the yard; Fedora pointed you out to him; he looked, and smiled his ironic smile; Fedora begged him to go away, told him that I was already ill with distress as it was, and that to see him in our room would be very unpleasant for me. For a while he remained silent; then he said he had simply come to see us for want of anything better to do, and tried to give Fedora twenty-five rubles, which she of course refused. What would it have meant if she had accepted them? Why did he come to see us? I cannot fathom how it is that he knows all about us!",0,0.9984022,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 I must inform you, my dear lady, that a most doleful event has taken place in our lodging-house, one that is truly, truly worthy of compassion! This morning, at about five a.m., Gorshkov’s small son died, I do not know what of; possibly it was some form of scarlet fever, but God alone knows! I paid a visit to those Gorshkovs. Oh, little mother, what poverty they live in! And what chaos! And it’s no wonder: the entire family lives in one room, which they have divided up with screens for the sake of propriety. They already have a little coffin prepared – a simple one, but quite pretty; they bought it ready-made, the boy was about nine; they say he had promise. But it is pitiful to see them, Varenka! The mother does not cry, but she is so sad, so poor. Perhaps things will be easier for them now that they have got one off their shoulders; but they still have the other two, a boy infant in arms and a little girl who must be six and a bit. There’s not really much that’s pleasant about watching a child, one’s own child, suffer and not being able to do anything about it. The father sits on a broken chair, wearing an old, grease-stained jacket. The tears stream down his face, perhaps not from grief, however, but simply from habit – his eyes are festering. What a queer fellow he is! He keeps blushing when you talk to him, he grows confused and doesn’t know what to say. The little girl, the daughter, stood leaning against the coffin – such a sad, thoughtful child, poor thing! I don’t like it when children are thoughtful, Varenka, little mother; it’s an unpleasant sight! There was some kind of rag-doll lying on the floor beside her – she wasn’t playing with it; she had her finger in her mouth, and just stood there, without making the slightest motion. The landlady gave her a sweet; she took it, but did not eat it. That was sad, Varenka, wasn’t it?","But it is pitiful to see them, Varenka!",0,0.9984022,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 You are glad, mother, that God has sent you a chance, in turn, to serve good for good and thank me. I believe this, Varenka, and I believe in the kindness of your angelic heart, and I’m not speaking as a reproach to you - just don’t reproach me, as you did then, that I was winded up in my old age. Well, it was such a sin, what to do! - if you really want to be sure that there is a sin here; only from you, my friend, it costs me a lot to listen to this! Don't be angry with me for saying this; in my chest, mother, everything is tired. Poor people are capricious - that's just how it is by nature. Yes, write about him as you like The poor man is exacting. He cannot see God’s world as it is, but eyes each passer-by askance, and looks around him uneasily in order that he may listen to every word that is being uttered. May not people be talking of him? How is it that he is so unsightly? —let scribblers say what they choose about him—he will ever remain as he was. What sort of figure is he cutting on the one side or on the other? It is matter of common knowledge, my Barbara, that the poor man ranks lower than a rag, and will never earn the respect of any one. What is he feeling at all? I myself have had reason to know this. And why will it continue to be so? And because a poor person, in their opinion, should have everything inside out; that he should not have anything cherished, there are ambitions of some no-no-no! Vaughn Emelya said the other day that they made him a subscription somewhere, so for every dime, in some way, they did an official inspection for him. They thought that they were giving him their kopecks for free - but no: they paid for showing them a poor man. Today, mother, good deeds are somehow miraculously done ... or maybe they have always been done that way, who knows! Either they do not know how to do it, or the masters are great - one of the two. You may not have known this, well, here you are! In what other way do we pass, and in this we are known! And why does a poor person know all this and think all this? And why? Well, from experience! And because, for example, he knows that there is such a gentleman at his side that he is going somewhere to a restaurant and talking to himself: what, they say, this bare official is going to eat today? and I will eat saute papillot, and he, perhaps, will eat porridge without butter. And what does it matter to him that I will eat porridge without butter? Sometimes there is such a person, Varenka, sometimes he only thinks about such things. And they walk around, libelous indecent, but they look that, they say, whether you step on a stone with your whole foot or with one toe; something about such and such an official, such and such a department, a titular adviser, bare fingers sticking out of his boot, that his elbows were torn through - and then they describe it all to themselves and print such rubbish ... And what do you care that Are my elbows torn? Yes, if you will forgive me, Varenka, a rude word, then I will tell you that a poor person has the same shame on this score as you have, by example, girlish. After all, you will not begin to expose yourself in front of everyone - forgive my rude word; just like that, and the poor man does not like to be looked into his kennel, that, they say, what kind of family relations there will be - here. And the fact that it was then to offend me, Varenka, is coupled with my enemies, encroaching on the honor and ambition of an honest man!","The poor man is exacting; he takes a different view of God’s world, and looks askance at every passer-by and turns a troubled gaze about him and looks to every word, wondering whether people are not talking about him, whether they are saying that he is so ugly, speculating about what he would feel exactly, what he would be on this side and what he would be on that side, and everyone knows, Varinka, that a poor man is worse than a rag and can get no respect from anyone; whatever they may write, those scribblers, it will always be the same with the poor man as it has been. And why will it always be as it has been? Because to their thinking the poor man must be turned inside out, he must have no privacy, no pride whatever!",0,0.9982993,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 0 “I will head towards that place immediately. And where would you be off to, my man? Are you going in that direction?”",“Me complain?,0,0.99818975,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 Fedora says that if I want, some people will be happy to take part in my position and get me a very good place in one house, as a governess. What do you think, my friend, should I go or not? Of course, then I won’t be a burden to you, and the place seems to be advantageous; but, on the other hand, it is somehow creepy to go to an unfamiliar house. They are some landowners. They will start to learn about me, they will start asking questions, curiosity - well, what can I say then? Besides, I'm such an unsociable, savage; I like to settle down in a familiar corner for a long time. It’s somehow better where you get used to it: although you live in half with grief, it’s still better. In addition to the exit; and besides, God knows what position there will be; maybe they'll just make the kids babysit. Yes, and people are like that: they change their third governess in two years. Advise me, Makar Alekseevich, for God's sake, should I go or not? Why don't you ever come to me? occasionally just show your eyes. We see each other almost only on Sundays at Mass. What kind of unsociable you are! You are exactly like me! And I'm almost like family to you. You don't love me, Makar Alekseevich, but sometimes I feel very sad alone. Sometimes, especially at dusk, you sit alone all alone. Fedora will go somewhere. You sit, think, think, - you remember everything old, and joyful, and sad, - everything goes before your eyes, everything flashes, as if from a fog. Familiar faces appear (I almost begin to see in reality), - I see my mother most often ... And what dreams I have! I feel that my health is upset; I'm so weak so today, when I got out of bed in the morning, I felt ill; besides, I have such a bad cough! I feel, I know that I will die soon. Will someone bury me? Someone will follow my coffin? Will someone pity me?.. And now, perhaps, I will have to die in a strange place, in a strange house, in a strange corner! .. My God, how sad it is to live, Makar Alekseevich! Why are you feeding me, my friend, all the sweets? I really don't know, where do you get so much money from? Ah, my friend, save your money, for God's sake, save it. Fedora is selling a carpet that I have embroidered; give fifty rubles in banknotes. This is very good: I thought it would be less. I'll give Fedora three roubles, and I'll sew a dress for myself, so simple, warmer. I'll make you a vest , I'll make it myself and choose good materials.","I swear I shall move from here. I shall go somewhere as a housemaid or a laundrymaid, I shan’t stay here. I wrote to you to come and see me here but you did not come. So are my tears and entreaties nothing to you, Makar Alexyevitch? And where do you get the money? For God’s sake, do be careful. Why, you are ruining yourself, ruining yourself for nothing! And it’s a shame and a disgrace! The landlady would not let you in last night, you spent the night in the porch.",0,0.998103,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 “Do you want to be the death of me? Do you want to be the death of me?” was how the disconsolate widow began her lamentations. “Whom do you want? Wasn’t he good enough for you? A kammer-junker! And how long have you changed for him? Isn't that the fofan? I have found an adviser! And I, I was hoping! not interested! He could have married any lady-in-waiting in Petersburg. From somewhere this cloud is inflated, it did not come by itself. ","She is a stupid, quarrelsome, absurd woman; she and the husband of her deceased survived from the light. Or did she irritate you in some way? No, no, mother, no way! And then how will I be , what will I have to do? No, Varenka, darling, get that out of your head. What are you missing from us? We do not get enough of you , you love us, so live yourselves there humbly; sew or read, and perhaps don’t sew, it doesn’t matter, just live with us.",0,0.9980122,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 ‘Perhaps that’s so, only now you certainly have come here for that, heh-heh! Well, enough! Why are you so disconcerted? You astonish me!"" Didn't you really know it all before? ","If so, then you did not understand me.",0,0.9979493,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 I was led through one room, through a second, through a third, to his Excellency’s study. I was in his presence! I can give you no exact account of what my thoughts were then. I saw his Excellency standing up, they were all standing round him. I believe I did not bow, I forgot. I was so flustered that my lips were trembling, my legs were trembling. And I had reason to be, my dear girl! To begin with, I was ashamed; I glanced into the looking-glass on the right hand and what I saw there was enough to send one out of one’s mind. And in the second place, I had always tried to behave as if there were no such person in the world.","“Well,” said his Excellency, “make haste and copy it again; Dyevushkin, come here, copy it over again without a mistake; and listen ...” Here his Excellency turned to the others, gave them various instructions and they all went away. As soon as they had gone, his Excellency hurriedly took out his notebook and from it took a hundred-rouble note. “Here,” said he, “take it as you like, so far as I can help you, take it .. ” and he thrust it into my hand. I trembled, my angel, my whole soul was quivering; I don’t know what happened to me, I tried to seize his hand to kiss it, but he flushed crimson, my darling, and—here I am not departing one hair’s breadth from the truth, my own—he took my unworthy hand and shook it, just took it and shook it, as though I had been his equal, as though I had been just such a General as himself. “You can go,” he said; “whatever I can do for you ... don’t make mistakes, but there, no great harm done this time.”",0,0.99771273,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 And he thought he had to make a few fat jokes. Aunt Dide was circling the room again. She didn't say another word. Towards evening Antoine went away, after putting on a blouse and pulling down over his eyes a deep cap which his mother went to buy for him. He re-entered the city as he had left it, telling a story to the National Guards who guarded the Porte de Rome. Then he reached the old quarter where, mysteriously, he slipped from door to door. All the enthusiastic Republicans, all the affiliates who had not followed the band, found themselves, towards nine o'clock, assembled in a one-eyed cafe where Macquart had arranged to meet them. When about fifty men were assembled, he made a speech, in which he spoke of personal vengeance that must be wreaked, of a victory that must be gained, and of a disgraceful yoke that must be thrown off. And he ended by undertaking to deliver the town-hall over to them in ten minutes. He had just left it, it was quite unguarded, he said, and the red flag would wave over it that very night if they so desired. The workmen deliberated. At that moment the reaction seemed to be in its death throes. The insurgents were virtually at the gates of the town. It would therefore be more honourable to make an effort to regain power without awaiting their return, so as to be able to receive them as brothers, with the gates wide open, and the streets and squares adorned with flags. Moreover, none of those present distrusted Macquart. His hatred of the Rougons, the personal vengeance of which he spoke, could be taken as guaranteeing his loyalty. It was agreed that all those who were hunters and who had a gun at home would go and fetch it, and that at midnight the band would be in the Place de l'Hôtel-de-Ville. A matter of detail nearly stopped them, they had no bullets; but they decided that they would load their guns with partridge lead, which was even useless, since they were to encounter no resistance.","When there were about fifty men there, he gave them a speech in which he spoke of a personal vengeance to be satisfied, of victory to be won, of a shameful yoke to be shaken off, and ended by making himself strong to hand over the town hall to them in ten minutes. He was coming out, it was empty; the red flag would fly there that very night, if they wanted to. The workers consulted one another: at this hour, the reaction was dying, the insurgents were at the gates, it would be honorable not to wait for them to regain power, which would allow them to be received as brothers, the doors wide open, the streets and the flagged squares. Besides, no one mistrusted Macquart; his hatred against the Rougons, the personal revenge of which he spoke, guaranteed his loyalty.",1,0.11124121,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 No, he will go away. For example, when they are all busy setting out on his birthday table those ill-chosen gifts that are meant yet again to make up for everything. He will go away for good. Not until long after will he realize how very determined he was at the time never to love, that he might never place anyone in that terrible position of being loved. Years later he will remember, and this resolution, like all the others, will have proved impossible to keep. For in his loneliness he has loved time and again, on every occasion giving his whole nature in spendthrift fashion and fearing inexpressibly for the other one's freedom. Slowly he has learned to let the rays of his feelings shine through the beloved object instead of consuming it in it. And he was spoiled by the delight of seeing through the ever more transparent figure of his beloved the vastness that she opened up to his infinite desire to possess. ","Little by little, he has learned to shine the rays of his emotion through the loved one, rather than consuming her. And what lavish delight it gave him to recognize, through the ever more transparent form of the beloved, the vast expanses that she opened up to his boundless desire to possess.",1,0.11124121,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 ""In fact, one day, in the year 1489, having some bursal[3] business in the chamber of the Generals[4], and entering it by pecuniary permission of the bailiff, like you gentlemen, know that pecuniæ obediunt omnia, and said Bald., I found them all playing fly-fishing for healthful exercise, before the past[5] or after, it is indifferent to me, provided that hic no. that the game of the fly is honest, salubrious, ancient and legal, at Musco inventory, of quo c. of small. haered. I. if post motam, and Muscarii. i. Those who play fly are excusable by right. i. vs. of apologies. artificial. lib. x. And at the very same time was Master Tielman Picquet, one of the Players of that Game of Musse He laughed that the gentlemen of the said room spoiled all their caps by daubing his shoulders; said them this notwithstanding not being of this damage of caps excusable on the return of the palace towards their wives, by c. i. extra of presump. and ibi gl. Now, resolutorie loquendo, I would say, like you gentlemen, that there is no exercise such, nor more aromatic in this palatine world than emptying bags, leafing through papers, grading notebooks, filling baskets and visiting trials.","And for that time was M. Tielman Picquet, as I remember.",1,0.11124121,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 But ... perhaps in this very novel some chords hitherto unstruck may be discerned, the infinite wealth of the Russian soul may be set forth, a man endowed with divine qualities, or a wonderful Russian maiden, such as cannot be found elsewhere in the world, with the marvellous beauty of a woman’s soul made up of generous impulse and self-sacrifice, may emerge. what a horrid man! And all the virtuous people of other races will seem dead beside them as a book is dead beside the living word! Alas! the author is very well aware of all this, and yet he cannot take a virtuous man for his hero.","Perhaps it is very beautiful, in fact. And I am the more persuaded of that suspicion, if one can call it so, by the fact that if you take, for instance, the antithesis of the normal man, that is, the man of acute consciousness, who has come, of course, not out of the lap of nature but out of a retort (this is almost mysticism, gentlemen, but I suspect this, too), this retort-made man is sometimes so nonplussed in the presence of his antithesis that with all his exaggerated consciousness he genuinely thinks of himself as a mouse and not a man. It may be an acutely conscious mouse, yet it is a mouse, while the other is a man, and therefore, et caetera, et caetera. And the worst of it is, he himself, his very own self, looks on himself as a mouse; no one asks him to do so; and that is an important point.",0,0.9976404,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 ‘Oh no, please don’t talk like that!… She and I, we’re all one and the same, we share everything’—and she suddenly became agitated and almost angry again, like a canary or any other little bird when it gets its feathers ruffled—‘And what can she do? I ask you, what can she do?’ she asked heatedly and anxiously. ‘ And how she cried today, how she cried! She’s going out of her mind, haven’t you noticed? Sometimes she worries like a little child, wanting to make sure that everything’s right and proper for tomorrow, and there are snacks to eat, and all that… and then she’ll wring her hands, and cough up blood, and weep, and suddenly start banging her head against the wall in despair. And then she calms down again, and puts all her hopes in you: she says you’ll help her, and that she’ll borrow a bit of money somewhere and go back to her home town, and take me with her, and set up a boarding school for young ladies, with me to oversee it, and we’ll start a lovely new life; and she kisses and hugs me, and comforts me—and she really believes it! She believes all those impossible dreams! Well, how can I contradict her? And then she spent all today washing and cleaning and mending; she dragged the tub into the room herself, weak as she is, and got all out of breath and collapsed on the bed. Only the money we brought wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. And she picked out such lovely little boots, We went this morning to a store to buy shoes for Polenka and Lida as theirs are completely worn out. because she’s got good taste, you don’t know her… And she burst into tears, right there in the shop, in front of the shopkeepers, because she didn’t have enough… Oh dear, what a sad sight that was.’","Every time the planes fly over, she’s afraid they’re going to drop their entire bomb load on Bertus’s head. Jokes like “Oh, don’t worry , they can’t all fall on him” or “One bomb is all it takes” are hardly appropriate in this situation. Bertus is not the only one being forced to work in Germany. Trainloads of young men depart daily. Some of them try to sneak off the train when it stops at a small station, but only a few manage to escape unnoticed and find a place to hide.",0,0.9974885,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 Fedora says that if I want, some people will be happy to take part in my position and get me a very good place in one house, as a governess. What do you think, my friend, should I go or not? Of course, then I won’t be a burden to you, and the place seems to be advantageous; but, on the other hand, it is somehow creepy to go to an unfamiliar house. They are some landowners. They will start to learn about me, they will start asking questions, curiosity - well, what can I say then? Besides, I'm such an unsociable, savage; I like to settle down in a familiar corner for a long time. It’s somehow better where you get used to it: although you live in half with grief, it’s still better. In addition to the exit; and besides, God knows what position there will be; maybe they'll just make the kids babysit. Yes, and people are like that: they change their third governess in two years. Advise me, Makar Alekseevich, for God's sake, should I go or not? Why don't you ever come to me? occasionally just show your eyes. We see each other almost only on Sundays at Mass. What kind of unsociable you are! You are exactly like me! And I'm almost like family to you. You don't love me, Makar Alekseevich, but sometimes I feel very sad alone. Sometimes, especially at dusk, you sit alone all alone. Fedora will go somewhere. You sit, think, think, - you remember everything old, and joyful, and sad, - everything goes before your eyes, everything flashes, as if from a fog. Familiar faces appear (I almost begin to see in reality), - I see my mother most often ... And what dreams I have! I feel that my health is upset; I'm so weak so today, when I got out of bed in the morning, I felt ill; besides, I have such a bad cough! I feel, I know that I will die soon. Will someone bury me? Someone will follow my coffin? Will someone pity me?.. And now, perhaps, I will have to die in a strange place, in a strange house, in a strange corner! .. My God, how sad it is to live, Makar Alekseevich! Why are you feeding me, my friend, all the sweets? I really don't know, where do you get so much money from? Ah, my friend, save your money, for God's sake, save it. Fedora is selling a carpet that I have embroidered; give fifty rubles in banknotes. This is very good: I thought it would be less. I'll give Fedora three roubles, and I'll sew a dress for myself, so simple, warmer. I'll make you a vest , I'll make it myself and choose good materials.","Fedora says I must not throw away my good fortune; she says, if this isn’t good fortune, what is? Anyway, I can find no other course for me, my precious friend. What am I to do? I have ruined my health with work as it is; I can’t go on working continually. Go into a family? I should pine away with depression, besides I should be of no use to anyone.",0,0.99736834,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 After a brief after-dinner nap he asked for soap and water and spent an extremely long time scrubbing his cheeks with soap, putting his tongue into them to make them stand out; then, taking a towel off the shoulder of the waiter, wiped his face in all directions, beginning from behind his ears, first giving two snorts right in the face of the waiter; then he put on his shirt-front before the looking-glass, tweaked out two hairs that were protruding from his nose, and immediately after that attired himself in a short cranberry-coloured dress coat. The new-comer, as it seemed, avoided saying much about himself; if he did speak of himself it was in generalities, with conspicuous modesty, and his speech on such occasions took somewhat a bookish turn, such as: that he was only an insignificant worm, and did not deserve to be the object of attention, that he had passed through many experiences in his time, had suffered for the cause of justice, had many enemies who had even attempted his life, and that now, desirous of living in peace, he was looking out to find a place for his permanent residence and that being in the town he thought it his bounden duty to show his respect for its leading dignitaries. That was all that was learned in the town about this new personage who very shortly afterwards did not fail to put in an appearance at the governor’s evening-party. The preparations for this evening-party occupied him over two hours, and on this occasion he exhibited a greater attention to his toilet than is commonly seen.","He dressed conscientiously for the evening meal, and, sitting in his place between Miss Robinson and the schoolmistress, he ate: julienne soup, baked and roast meats with suitable accompaniments, two pieces of a tart made of macaroons, butter-cream, chocolate, jam and marzipan, and lastly excellent cheese and pumpernickel.",0,0.997285,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 Francis finished turning up and fastening Nana's hair. He was a nice fellow, was that Fauchery, and she would repay him for his charming style of writing. Mme Lerat, after having reread the notice, roundly declared that the men all had the devil in their shanks, and she refused to explain her self further, being fully satisfied with a brisk allusion of which she alone knew the meaning. He bowed and said:","Nana! The cry rolled, grew louder, with the violence of a storm, gradually filling the horizon, from the depths of the Bois to Mont Valérien, from the meadows of Longchamp to the plain of Boulogne. On the lawn, a mad enthusiasm was declared. Long live Nana! Long live France ! Down with England! The women brandished their parasols; men were jumping, turning, vociferating; others, with nervous laughter, threw hats. And, on the other side of the track, the weighing enclosure responded, an agitation shook the stands, without anything distinctly being seen but a trembling of the air, like the invisible flame of a brazier, above this living heap of clumsy little figures, arms twisted, with blackheaded eyes and open mouths.",0,0.99719906,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 He pulled away immediately. Lescaut fell, without the slightest movement of life. I pressed Manon to flee, for our help was useless for a corpse, and I was afraid of being arrested by the watch, which could not be long in appearing. I walked, with her and the valet, down the first little street that crossed. She was so panic-stricken that I could hardly prevent her from collapsing. At last I saw a cab at the end of the street. We jumped in. I had no secure asylum or trusted friend to whom I dared to have recourse. I was penniless, having scarcely more than half a pistole in my purse. Fear and fatigue had bothered Manon so much that she was half swooning beside me. I had, moreover, the imagination filled with the murder of Lescaut, and I was not yet without apprehension on the part of the watch. What side to take? Fortunately, I remembered the Auberge de Chaillot, where I had spent a few days with Manon, when we had gone to that village to stay. I hoped not only to be safe there, but to be able to live there for some time without being in a hurry to pay.","Suddenly I remembered I had things to do and glanced anxiously at my watch. Luckily it wasn't two yet. That left me enough time to take care of a certain visit. Otherwise, in the state I was in, I'd have worried myself to death before three o'clock. I drove to see my sister Anna Versilov. I'd come to know her quite well at the old prince's, particularly during his illness. I hadn't seen the old man now for three or four days and that weighed on my conscience. And it was Anna who made up for my failure because the old prince had become extremely fond of her and had even started calling her his ""guardian angel. "" By the way, it was true that the old prince had conceived the idea of marrying her off to Sergei, an idea he had even mentioned to me several times, in confidence, of course. I'd told Versilov about this because I'd noticed that, although Versilov seemed quite indifferent to what was going on around him, he'd become attentive whenever I talked about my encounters with Anna.",0,0.99719906,1
+"lexical = 80, order = 40 I speak of that hurdy-gurdy, my darling, because it has happened that I have felt my poverty twice as much to-day. I stopped to look at the hurdy-gurdy man. I was in such a mood that I stopped to distract my thoughts. I was standing there, and also two cab-drivers, a woman of some sort, and a little girl, such a grubby little thing. The hurdy-gurdy man stopped before the windows of a house. I noticed a little boy about ten years old; he would have been pretty, but he looked so ill, so frail, with hardly anything but his shirt on and almost barefoot, with his mouth open; he was listening to the music—like a child! He watched the German’s dolls dancing, while his own hands and feet were numb with cold; he shivered and nibbled the edge of his sleeve. I noticed that he had a bit of paper of some sort in his hands. A gentleman passed and flung the hurdy-gurdy man some small coin, which fell straight into the box in a little garden in which the toy Frenchman was dancing with the ladies. At the clink of the coin the boy started, looked round and evidently thought that I had given the money. He ran up to me, his little hands trembling, his little voice trembling, he held the paper out to me and said, “A letter.” I opened the letter; well, it was the usual thing, saying: “Kind gentleman, a mother’s dying with three children hungry, so help us now, and as I am dying I will pray for you, my benefactor, in the next world for not forgetting my babes now.” Well, what of it?—one could see what it meant, an everyday matter, but what could I give him? Well, I gave him nothing, and how sorry I was! The boy was poor, blue with cold, perhaps hungry, too, and not lying, surely he was not lying, I know that for certain. But what is wrong is that these horrid mothers don’t take care of their children and send them out half naked in the cold to beg. Maybe she’s a weak-willed, silly woman; and there’s no one, maybe, to do anything for her, so she simply sits with her legs tucked under her, maybe she’s really ill. Well, anyway, she should apply in the proper quarter. Though, maybe, she’s a cheat and sends a hungry, delicate child out on purpose to deceive people, and makes him ill. And what sort of training is it for a poor boy? It simply hardens his heart, he runs about begging, people pass and have no time for him. Their hearts are stony, their words are cruel. “Get away, go along, you are naughty!” that is what he hears from everyone, and the child’s heart grows hard, and in vain the poor little frightened boy shivers with cold like a fledgling fallen out of a broken nest. His hands and feet are frozen, he gasps for breath. The next thing he is coughing, before long disease, like an unclean reptile, creeps into his bosom and death is standing over him in some dark corner, no help, no escape, and that’s his life! That is what life is like sometimes! Oh, Varinka, it’s wretched to hear “for Christ’s sake,” and to pass by and give nothing, telling him “God will provide.” Sometimes “for Christ’s sake” is all right (it’s not always the same, you know, Varinka) , sometimes it’s a long, drawling, habitual, practised, regular beggar’s whine; it’s not so painful to refuse one like that; he’s an old hand, a beggar by profession. He’s accustomed to it, one thinks; he can cope with it and knows how to cope with it. Sometimes “for Christ’s sake” sounds unaccustomed, rude, terrible—as to-day, when I was taking the letter from the boy, a man standing close to the fence, not begging from everyone, said to me: “Give us a halfpenny, sir, for Christ’s sake,” and in such a harsh, jerky voice that I started with a horrible feeling and did not give him a halfpenny, I hadn’t one. Rich people don’t like the poor to complain aloud of their harsh lot, they say they disturb them, they are troublesome! Yes, indeed, poverty is always troublesome; maybe their hungry groans hinder the rich from sleeping!","I showed him kindness. he is a lost, frightened man; he is looking for someone to look after him, and that is why I showed him kindness. Well, goodbye, little mother, Christ be with you, keep well. My little dove!",0,0.99711037,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 Everything is over! My lot is cast; I don’t know what it will be, but I am resigned to God’s will. To-morrow we set off. I say good-bye to you for the last time, my precious one, my friend, my benefactor, my own! Don’t grieve for me, live happily, think of me, and may God’s blessing descend on us! I shall often remember you in my thoughts, in my prayers. So this time is over! I bring to my new life little consolation from the memories of the past; the more precious will be my memory of you, the more precious will your memory be to my heart. You are my one friend; you are the only one there who loved me. You know I have seen it all, I know how you love me! You were happy in a smile from me and a few words from my pen. Now you will have to get used to being without me. How will you do, left alone here? To whom am I leaving you my kind, precious, only friend! I leave you the book, the embroidery frame, the unfinished letter; when you look at those first words, you must read in your thoughts all that you would like to hear or read from me, all that I should have written to you; and what I could not write now! Think of your poor Varinka who loves you so truly. All your letters are at Fedora’s in the top drawer of a chest. You write that you are ill and Mr. Bykov will not let me go out anywhere to-day. I will write to you, my friend, I promise; but, God alone knows what may happen. And so we are saying good-bye now for ever, my friend, my darling, my own, for ever.... Oh, if only I could embrace you now! Good-bye, my dear; good-bye, good-bye. Live happily, keep well. My prayers will be always for you. Oh! how sad I am, how weighed down in my heart. Mr. Bykov is calling me. Your ever loving","Yes, you have been a very good friend to Thedora, dearest. You have acted kindly, very kindly, towards her. For every such deed God will bless you.",0,0.99701905,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 Enough of this misery! You ought to be ashamed of yourself! Enough, my little angel; how is it that such thoughts come into your head? You are not ill, my darling, you are not in the slightest ill; you are blossoming, positively blossoming; a little pale, perhaps, but blossoming all the same. And what are these dreams and visions of yours? Shame on you, my little dove – enough! You must spit in the face of those dreams, yes, spit in their face. Why do you suppose I sleep well? Why do you suppose that nothing bad happens to me? You ought to look at me, little mother. I take care of myself, sleep well , am in good health, a fine figure of a man, a pleasure to look at. Enough, little darling, enough – shame on you. You must mend your ways. After all, I know how that head of yours works, little mother – as soon as the slightest thing goes wrong you start dreaming and pining. Stop it for my sake, darling. Go into service? Never! No, no and no! What can you be thinking of, whatever has got into you? And in the country, too! Oh no, little mother, I shall not permit it. I shall exert every power at my disposal in order to oppose such a plan. I will sell my old jacket and go about the streets in my shirtsleeves rather than have you want for anything. No, Varenka, no; I know you! This is folly, pure folly! And if there is one thing that’s certain, it is that Fedora bears the sole responsibility: she is quite clearly a stupid peasant woman, and it is she who has put you up to all this. Don’t you believe a word she says, little mother. You don’t know much about her, do you, my darling?… She’s a stupid peasant woman, foolish and quarrelsome; she drove her husband into his grave. Or has she been making you lose your temper with her over there? No, no, little mother, not for anything in the world! What would happen to me if you went, what would be left for me? No, Varenka, darling, you must get this idea out of your little head. What do you lack with us? We dote upon you, you are fond ofus – sogo on living over there in your quiet way; sew or read, or, if you wish, don’t sew – it’s all the same, just as long as you go on living with us. Just think for yourself what life would be like here without you!… Look, I shall get some books for you, and then perhaps we’ll go and take another walk somewhere together. Only enough, enough, little mother : learn some sense and don’t be put off your balance by silly nonsense! I will come and visit you, and in a very short time, too; only in return you must accept my frank and honest opinion : you are wrong, my darling, you are very wrong! I, of course, am an uneducated man and know that I am uneducated, that I was brought up on a shoestring; but that is not what I am driving at, for it is not I who am at issue here, but Ratazyayev, whose side I shall take, say what you will. he is my friend, and so I take his part. He writes well, he writes very, very, very well. I do not agree with you, and there is no way in which I can agree with you. He writes floridly, in gusts, with figures of speech and all sorts of ideas; it’s very fine! I think, Varenka, you must have read it without feeling, or perhaps you weren’t in the right mood, you were angry with Fedora about something, or something unpleasant had happened over there. No, you read it again with feeling, preferably when you’re happy and content and in a good mood, as when, for example, you have a sweet in your mouth – that’s the time you should read it. I don’t deny (and who would?) that there are writers who are better, even much better than Ratazyayev, but they have their good points, and so does Ratazyayev; they write well, and so does he. he is a law unto himself, he writes in his own way, and what he writes he writes very well. Well, goodbye; I can write no more; I must make haste, for duty calls. See to it now, little mother, beloved little darling, compose yourself, may the Lord be with you, and I remain","Only you, completeness, mother, completeness, gain your mind and do not bless from trifles! I will come to you, and in a very short time, only you will accept my direct and frank confession for this: it’s not good, darling, very bad!",0,0.99687636,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 And under all of Swann’s sweetest memories, under the simplest words Odette had said to him in the old days, which he had believed like the words of the gospel, under the daily actions she had recounted to him, under the most ordinary places, her dressmaker’s house, the avenue du Bois, the Hippodrome, he sensed, concealed within the surplus time which even in the most thoroughly itemized days still leaves some play, some room, and can serve as hiding places for certain actions, he sensed insinuating itself the possible subterranean presence of lies which made something ignoble out of all that had remained most dear to him (his best evenings, the rue La Pérouse itself, which Odette must always have left at other hours than those she had reported to him), propagating everywhere a little of the dark horror he had felt when he heard her admission about the Maison Dorée, and, like the loathsome beasts in the Desolation of Nineveh,113 toppling stone by stone his entire past. From him too, probably, many times when she had murmured the sorts of words which explain a delay, justify a change in the hour of a meeting, they must have concealed, without his suspecting it then, something she was going to do with some other man, with some other man to whom she had said: “I’ll simply tell Swann my dress wasn’t ready, or my cab came late. There’s always a way to manage it.” de If he now turned away each time his memory spoke the bitter name of the Maison Dorée, it was no longer, as still quite recently at Mme.","At every moment of the day it delighted them afresh, its expression ever varying. In the early morning it was pale as a maiden just risen from her slumber; at noon, it was flushed, radiant as with a longing for fruitfulness, and in the evening it became languid and breathless, as after keen enjoyment.",0,0.9968273,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 100 —Stop! cried the young man, oh! you who love, you who are loved, you who have the faith of hope, For you, it would be a crime. Farewell, my noble and generous friend, I am going to tell Valentine all you have done for me.",And it would all be mine!,0,0.9967775,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 How can a man of wisdom and morality, who fancies himself as something of a philosopher, amuse himself telling tales as obscene as this? Well, firstly you must remember that these are not tales. It is a true story, and I certainly do not feel more guilty – and perhaps even less – when I write about Jacques’ follies than Suetonius when he recorded for us the orgies of Tiberius. Moreover you read Suetonius without reproaching him. Why do you not frown at Catullus, Martial, Horace, Juvenal, Petronius, La Fontaine and so many others? Why don’t you tell the stoic Seneca: ‘We don’t need to hear about the debauchery of your slave with his concave mirrors?’ Why is it that you are only indulgent with dead writers? If you were to reflect a little on this partiality you will see that it is born of a false assumption. If you are innocent you will not read my work. If, on the other hand, you are depraved, you may read me without consequence. And then if you are not satisfied by what I say, open the preface to the works of Jean-Baptiste Rousseau and you will find my apologia. Who is there amongst you who dares to criticize Voltaire for writing La Pucelle?60 Nobody. So you have, therefore, two standards for assessing the actions of men. – But, I hear you protest, Voltaire’s Pucelle is a masterpiece. So much the worse since people will read it more. – And your Jacques is nothing more than a tasteless farrago of facts, some real, some imaginary, written without elegance and arranged without order. So much the better: Jacques will be less read. Whichever way you turn you are wrong. If my work is good it will please you. If it is bad it won’t do you any harm. There is no book that is more innocent than a bad book. I enjoy writing up under assumed names the follies I have seen you commit. Your follies make me laugh and my writings annoy you. To speak to you frankly, Reader, I find that you are the more wicked of the two of us. How satisfied would I be if it were as easy for me to protect myself from your calumny as it is for you to protect yourself from the boredom or the danger of my work! Filthy hypocrites. Leave me in peace. Fuck away like unsaddled asses but allow me to say ‘fuck’. I allow you the action. Allow me the word. You boldly use words like ‘kill’, ‘steal’, ‘betray’ all the time but only dare to pronounce that word under your breath. Might it be that the less you allow such supposed impurities to pass your lips the more they remain in your thoughts? It is good that the words which are spoken the most often, written the least frequently, and the most effectively curbed should be the best known and the most widely used—as such indeed is the case. I can still hear you objecting: ' For futuo* is no less common than the word 'bread'. Oh, what a cynic! It is known to every age and idiom, there are countless synonyms for it in every tongue known to man, it looms large in every language but is never directly expressed, being without voice or outward shape, and the sex which indulges the thing most is the one accustomed to say the word least. What harm were you ever done by something as natural, necessary, and right as genital activity, that you should wish to exclude all mention of it from your conversation and imagine that your mouth and eyes and ears would be polluted if it weren't? Oh! What a sophist!’ Go on. Heap your insults on an estimable author who is always in your hands and whom I only translate here. To me the freedom of his style is almost the guarantee of the purity of his morals. It is Montaigne. Lasciva est nobis pagina vita proba.61","Well, let's see what's in these houses? There, in some smoky corner, in some kind of damp kennel, which, out of need, is considered an apartment, some artisan woke up from sleep; and in a dream, roughly speaking, he dreamed all night of his boots that he accidentally cut yesterday, as if it was precisely such rubbish that a person should dream of! Why, he's a craftsman , he's a shoemaker: it's excusable for him to think about his own subject all the time. He has children squeaking there and his wife is hungry; and not only shoemakers sometimes get up like that, my dear. It would be nothing, and it would not be worth writing about, but here is the circumstance that comes out here, mother: right there, in the same house, on the floor above or below, in gilded chambers, and the richest face all the same boots, maybe at night they dreamed, that is, in a different manner, boots, of a different style, but still boots; for in the sense that I mean here, mother, we all, my dear, come out a little shoemakers.",0,0.9966756,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 The Prince recalled that he had heard something of the kind himself, but, it goes without saying, had not paid any attention to any of it. On this occasion too he merely laughed it all off, and thought no more about it. Lebedev had really been busy agitating something at one time; this man’s schemes always seemed to emerge as though out of thin air and, fuelled by excessive fervour, they grew in complexity, expanded in all directions and became more and more divorced from the original concept; it is for this reason that he was seldom successful in life. When subsequently, almost on the wedding day itself, he came to the Prince to make a clean breast of it (he was forever in the habit of coming to those whom he was plotting against to make a clean breast of it, especially if he had failed), he announced he was born a Talleyrand,* but by a mysterious process had ended up a mere Lebedev. Then he came to the scheme he’d been plotting, which immediately roused the Prince’s interest enormously. His story went that he had started by being on the lookout for some influential people to offer him patronage in case of need, and had turned to Ivan Fyodorovich. General Ivan Fyodorovich was flabbergasted, and however solicitous he was for the young man, “it would be most inappropriate for me to intervene at this stage to help him.” Lizaveta Prokofyevna refused to have anything to do with him point-blank; Yevgeny Pavlovich and Prince S. would not hear of it. But he, Lebedev, would not be deterred, and had sought the counsel of a very shrewd lawyer, a venerable old man, his bosom pal and virtually his benefactor, who concluded that the matter was very feasible. All that was required were competent witnesses to the Prince’s mental derangement, indeed insanity, supported above all by evidence from people in high places. Lebedev had taken heart at this stage, and had one day invited a fellow holidaymaker and doctor, also a venerable old man sporting the Order of St Anne round his neck, to come along and see the lie of the land, as it were; first, to get to know the Prince informally, and then, so to speak, make an off-the-record report on him. The prince praised Lebedev and received the doctor with extreme cordiality. The prince remembered the doctor calling on him; he remembered that the day before Lebedev had been nagging him about his being unwell, and when the prince resolutely rejected medicine, he suddenly showed up with the doctor, under the pretext that the two of them were just coming from Mr. Terentyev, who was very sick, and the doctor had something to tell the prince about the patient. They at once got to talking about the sick Ippolit; the doctor asked for a more detailed account of the scene of the suicide, and the prince absolutely fascinated him with his story and his explanation of the event. They touched upon the St Petersburg weather, on the Prince’s own illness, on Switzerland and on Schneider. When it came to Schneider’s clinical theories, the doctor was so absorbed that he spent an extra two hours listening to the Prince’s accounts ; in the process he smoked his host’s excellent cigars, which were later supplemented by brandy, courtesy of Lebedev, and served by Vera. A small detail – the doctor, a happily married family man, immediately began paying her all manner of compliments which caused her to leave the room in a huff. They all parted friends. After the doctor had left the room, he informed Lebedev that if all such people were to be taken into care, who would the carers be? In response to Lebedev’s impassioned reference to the impending event, the doctor just shook his head with a sly and mischievous leer, finally observing that, quite apart from “who marries whom, the seductive lady in question, as far as he heard anyway – never mind her extraordinary beauty, which alone could turn the head of any man – has riches galore from Totsky, from Rogozhin in the form of gems, diamonds, shawls and furniture, and that therefore this particular choice, far from being a sign of, as it were, crass stupidity on the part of the excellent Prince, was in fact an indication of the shrewd and sophisticated mindset of a calculating man of the world, and consequently would lead to a diametrically opposite and, as far as the good Prince was concerned, highly favourable outcome…” This had taken Lebedev completely by surprise, and that is how the matter was left at the time. At the end of his story Lebedev added, “As for now, you will see nothing from me save devotion and willingness to shed my blood for you, which is precisely what I came to pledge to you.”","The Prince was not only almost totally unaware that there were some who sought to engage Aglaya in a conversation and to pay her compliments, but at times he was even oblivious of the fact that he himself was sitting next to her. Occasionally he had the urge simply to get up and go away, leave the venue altogether. He would even prefer some gloomy, desolate place just in order to be on his own, alone with his thoughts, and that no one should know where he was. Or at the very least to be at home, on the terrace, but so that there was no one else present, neither Lebedev, nor the children; to collapse on the sofa, bury his face in a cushion and stay that way a whole day, a night and a day more. He had momentary visions of the Swiss mountains, especially one particular spot, which he always liked to think back to and to which he liked to return again and again when he was still living there; to look down upon the village, upon the faintly glistening ribbon of the waterfall down below, on the white clouds and the ruins of the old castle. Oh, how he longed to be there now and think of one thing only – one thought in a lifetime – it would have sufficed him for a thousand years! Would that all memory of him vanished here. Oh, that was in fact what he wished, or better still, that he’d never been known to exist, and all this had been a mere vision in a dream. And in the end, what was the difference – dream or reality?",0,0.99657035,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 Away with melancholy! Really, beloved, you ought to be ashamed of yourself! How can you allow such thoughts to enter your head? Really and truly you are quite well; really and truly you are, my darling. Why, you are blooming—simply blooming. True, I see a certain touch of pallor in your face, but still you are blooming. A fig for dreams and visions! Yes, for shame, dearest! Drive away those fancies; try to despise them. Why do I sleep so well? Why am I never ailing? Look at ME, beloved. I live well , I sleep peacefully, I retain my health, I can ruffle it with my juniors. In fact, it is a pleasure to see me. Come, come, then, sweetheart! Let us have no more of this. I know that that little head of yours is capable of any fancy—that all too easily you take to dreaming and repining; but for my sake, cease to do so. Are you to go to these people, you ask me? Never! No, no, again no! How could you think of doing such a thing as taking a journey? I will not allow it—I intend to combat your intention with all my might. I will sell my frockcoat, and walk the streets in my shirt sleeves, rather than let you be in want. But no, Barbara. I know you, I know you. This is merely a trick, merely a trick. And probably Thedora alone is to blame for it. She appears to be a foolish old woman, and to be able to persuade you to do anything. Do not believe her, my dearest. I am sure that you know what is what, as well as SHE does. Eh, sweetheart? She is a stupid, quarrelsome, rubbish-talking old woman who brought her late husband to the grave. Probably she has been plaguing you as much as she did him. No, no, dearest; you must not take this step. What should I do then? What would there be left for ME to do? Pray put the idea out of your head. What is it you lack here? I cannot feel sufficiently overjoyed to be near you, while, for your part, you love me well, and can live your life here as quietly as you wish. Read or sew, whichever you like—or read and do not sew. Only, do not desert me. Try, yourself, to imagine how things would seem after you had gone. Here am I sending you books, and later we will go for a walk. Come, come, then, my Barbara! Summon to your aid your reason, and cease to babble of trifles. As soon as I can I will come and see you, and then you shall tell me the whole story. This will not do, sweetheart; this certainly will not do. Of course, I know that I am not an educated man, and have received but a sorry schooling, and have had no inclination for it, and think too much of Rataziaev, if you will; but he is my friend, and therefore, I must put in a word or two for him. Yes, he is a splendid writer. Again and again I assert that he writes magnificently. I do not agree with you about his works, and never shall. He writes too ornately, too laconically, with too great a wealth of imagery and imagination. Perhaps you have read him without insight, Barbara? Or perhaps you were out of spirits at the time, or angry with Thedora about something, or worried about some mischance? Ah, but you should read him sympathetically, and, best of all, at a time when you are feeling happy and contented and pleasantly disposed—for instance, when you have a bonbon or two in your mouth. Yes, that is the way to read Rataziaev. I do not dispute (indeed, who would do so?) that better writers than he exist—even far better; but they are good, and he is good too —they write well, and he writes well. It is chiefly for his own sake that he writes, and he is to be approved for so doing. Now goodbye, dearest. More I cannot write, for I must hurry away to business. Be of good cheer, and the Lord God watch over you!—Your faithful friend,","I know that Fedora says that great happiness awaits you… but she’s an ungovernable woman and she wants to ruin me. Will you be at the all-night service tonight, little mother? I would go merely in order to look at you. It’s true, little mother, it’s perfectly true that you’re an educated woman, virtuous and sensitive – it’s just that he’d do better to marry the merchant’s daughter! What do you think, little mother? Don’t you think that’s what he ought to do? As soon as it gets dark I shall look in and see you for a little while, my Varenka. It’s getting dark early today, and I shall look in.",0,0.99657035,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 She had gone to open the door. He did not come out. Now, it was his way of tying her down more; for nothing, at the slightest quarrel, she put the deal in his hand, with abominable reflections. Ah well ! she would always find something better than him, she was spoiled for choice; we picked up men outside, as many as we wanted, and less stupid men, whose blood boiled in the veins. He lowered his head, he waited for sweeter hours, when she needed money; then she became caressing; and he forgot, a night of tenderness compensated for the tortures of the whole week. The countess, cast off by Fauchery, who was once more completely under Rose’s influence, sought forgetfulness in other amours, in the attack of the feverish anxiety of her forty years, ever nervous, and filling the house with the exasperating commotion of her mode of living. His reconciliation with his wife had made his home unbearable. Estelle, since her marriage, no longer saw her father; in this girl, dull and insignificant, a woman of iron will had suddenly appeared so absolute that Daguenet trembled before her; now he accompanied her to mass, converted, furious at his father-in-law who was ruining them with a creature. Alone, M. Venot remained tender for the Count, watching his hour; he had even managed to get into Nana's house, he frequented both houses, where one met his continual smile behind the doors. And Muffat, miserable at home, driven away by boredom and shame, still preferred to live on the avenue de Villiers, amid insults.","His rapprochement with his wife had made his interior unbearable. The Countess, abandoned by Fauchery, who was once again falling under the sway of Rose34, was bewildered by other loves, in the restless fit of quarantine fever, always nervous, filling the hotel with the exasperating whirlwind of her life.",1,0.11240509,0
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 “I suppose you must have heard, sir, about my disagreements with my father, Fyodor Karamazov, who has cheated me out of my inheritance from my mother . . . It has been the talk of the town for quite a while now . . . for people here like to talk about things that are really none of their business. Besides, Grushenka—I’m sorry , I mean Miss Svetlov—may have told you about it . . .” Three months ago, he said, he had of express intention (Mitya purposely used these words instead of ""intentionally"") consulted a lawyer in the chief town of the province, ""a distinguished lawyer, Kuzma Kuzmitch, Pavel Pavlovitch Korneplodov. "" So Mitya began, and broke down at the first sentence. You have perhaps heard of him? We will not reproduce his speech word for word, but will only summarize the gist of it. A man of vast intellect, the mind of a statesman ... . . he knows you . . . thinks very highly of you”). Mitya became sidetracked again but these diversions did not stop him. He just skipped back from them to his story. Well, then, that great lawyer, after having questioned Mitya thoroughly and studied the documents (Mitya was rather vague about these documents and seemed in a hurry to get this part of his story over with), declared that Chermashnya should really be Mitya’s as it was part of his mother’s estate and that Mitya could claim it by legal action, which would make things very unpleasant for “my unbearable old father,” because, Mitya said, “he has not established his rights to it very firmly and a good lawyer would soon find a loophole.” In brief, there was a good chance of getting another six or perhaps even seven thousand out of the old man, for Chermashnya was worth “at least twenty-five, I mean, twenty-eight thousand . . . no, no , it’s worth all of thirty thousand, sir, while, I—would you believe it?—I haven’t even had seventeen thousand rubles for it out of that stone-hearted man!” And Mitya went on to say that, while he was away, he had dropped the matter “because I’m no good at these legal matters,” but now, having come back, he was dumbfounded by his father’s counter-claim. At this point he got mixed up again and, instead of pursuing this subject, concluded his speech with his proposition: Wouldn’t “the highly esteemed Mr. Samsonov” be interested in acquiring Mitya’s rights to Chermashnya for just three thousand rubles? “I give you my word of honor, you won’t lose anything on the deal. Indeed, I’m absolutely certain, I swear on my honor, that you’ll get back six or seven thousand for these three . . .” What Mitya wanted, though, was “to settle this whole thing no later than today.” “We could meet at a notary’s, or wherever you say . . . In short, I’ll hand over all the papers to you, everything, whatever you want. I’ll sign anything . . . And then we can draw up a legal agreement and . . . if it is possible . . . if you think it is feasible, I’d like to have . . . the three thousand . . . this morning. For no one but you in this town has such a large sum at his disposal . . . And you’d save me from . . . I mean you’d save my poor head, so that I could act like an honorable man, I dare say—for I have very honorable feelings toward someone you know very well and in whom you take a fatherly interest . . . For I wouldn’t be here if I were not aware that your interest in her was fatherly, sir. If I may put it this way, sir, three men have collided head-on—that’s fate for you, Mr. Samsonov, a horrible fate! But that’s realism, sir, sheer realism! Well, since you haven’t been involved in it for a long time now, that leaves two heads . . . Perhaps I’m not expressing it very clearly, but then I have no literary talent. What I was trying to say was that my head is there and also the head of that monster . . . And so you choose—who is it to be—the monster or me? Everything is in your hands now—three men and two lots to draw . . . forgive me, I am a bit mixed up, but I can see by your highly esteemed eyes that you are following me . . . And if you are not, I’ll have to jump in the lake this very day. So that’s it.”","The father said that he would not give and would not pay the debts. The tailor wants to jail, and the other one also threatens to jail. The regimental commander announced that if these scandals did not stop, then they had to leave. The Baroness is tired of it, like a bitter radish, especially because everyone wants to give money; and there is one, he will show it to Vronsky, a miracle, a charm, in an oriental strict style, ""the genre of Rebecca's slave, you understand. "" I also got into trouble with Berkoshev yesterday, and he wanted to send seconds, but, of course, nothing would come of it.",0,0.9964619,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 “So you can imagine I was pretty sick in mind and body. I was anaemic, and subject to fits of terrible depression. When I was sixteen, after a bout of pneumonia, I began to have hallucinations. When reading, I would often sense that someone was standing behind my back peering over my shoulder at the book. I had to turn around to convince myself no one was there. Or I would awaken to the eerie sensation that someone was standing next to my bed, watching me. Of course there was no-one there. And I was permanently ashamed of myself. In time my position in the family became unbearable because of this constant sense of shame. During meals I kept blushing, and at one stage the least thing was enough to make me want to burst into tears. On these occasions I would run out of the room. You know how correct my parents are. You can imagine how disappointed and shocked they were, and how much my brothers and Edit teased me. It got to the point where I was forced to pretend I had a French lesson at school at two-thirty, and so was able to eat on my own, before the others did.","“So you see, I used to be a wooden puppet, as I am today. And I was just about to become a real boy, like so many others in this world, but instead I ran away from home, because I wasn’t crazy about studying and because I was listening to my ne’er-do-well friends. And then one fine day I woke up to find myself turned into a jackass, ears and all—right down to the tail! I was so ashamed! I wouldn’t want blessed Saint Anthony to make anyone, even you, feel such shame! Then I was taken to the donkey market and sold to the Ringmaster of a horse circus, who got the notion to turn me into a great dancer and hoop-jumper. But one evening, during the show, I had a bad fall in the ring and injured two of my legs.",0,0.99605453,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 Martin, turning towards Candide with his usual coolness, said, “Well, what think you now? Have I won the wager entirely?” Candide gave two thousand piastres to Pacquette and a thousand to Friar Giroflée, saying, “I will answer that this will make them happy.” “I don’t believe so,” said Martin; “perhaps this money will only make them wretched.” “Be that as it may,” said Candide, “one thing comforts me; I see that one often meets with those whom we never expected to see again; so that perhaps, as I have found my red sheep and Pacquette, I may be lucky enough to find Miss Cunégonde also.” “I hope,” said Martin, “that one day she will make you happy, but I doubt it very much.” “You are very hard in your beliefs,” said Candide. “It is because,” said Martin, “I have seen the world.”","One evening when Candide and Martin were going to sit down to supper with some foreigners who lodged at the same inn where they were staying, a man, with a face the colour of soot, came behind him, and taking him by the arm, said “Be ready to leave with us; don’t miss this.” He turned around and saw Cacambo. Nothing but the sight of Miss Cunégonde could have given him greater joy and surprise. He was almost beside himself. After embracing this dear friend, “Cunégonde!” he said, “Cunégonde has come with you, no doubt! Where, where is she? Take me to her this instant so that I may die of joy in her presence.” “Cunégonde is not here,” answered Cacambo, “she is at Constantinople.”",0,0.9959927,1
+"lexical = 100, order = 100 But that is what they intend.","Is it worth it? lexical = 0, order = 100 At that moment, he didn’t even want to go on living: “What’s the point?” the young man kept asking himself in distress. Is it worth it? Is it worth it? exclaimed the boy in his grief.",0,0.99580115,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 “Angry, yes, he was angry, and maybe rightly,” Rogozhin replied, “but it was my brother who really got me. About my mother there’s nothing to say , she’s an old woman, reads the Menaion,8 sits with the old crones, and whatever brother Senka decides, so it goes. But why didn’t he let me know in time? We understand that, sir! True, I was unconscious at the time. They also say a telegram was sent. But the telegram happened to come to my aunt. And she’s been widowed for thirty years and sits with the holy fools9 from morning till evening. A nun, or not a nun but worse still. She got scared of the telegram and took it to the police station without opening it, and so it’s been lying there ever since. Only Konev, Vassily Vassilyich, rescued me. He wrote about everything. At night my brother cut the gold tassels off the brocade cover on the old man’s coffin: ‘They cost a whole lot of money,’ he says. I could have had him packed off to Siberia for that , it’s sheer sacrilege. Listen, eyesore!” he turned to the clerk. “What’s the law: is it a blasphemy?”","I reckon that’s the way she thought, or rather felt, and it was impossible she could have thought or felt any differently. She’d been brought up to believe that there was only one thing in the world worth bothering about – love. She’d got married, she’d managed to get a bit of that love she’d been told about, but it was far from being what she’d been promised, what she’d expected, and it had brought her a lot of disillusionment and suffering; what was more, it had involved this quite unforeseen torment – children! This torment had worn her out. And then, thanks to those obliging doctors, she’d discovered it was possible to avoid having children.",0,0.9957353,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 ""One picture, only one more, because it's so curious, so characteristic, and I have only just read it in some collection of Russian antiquities. I've forgotten the name. I must look it up. It was in the darkest days of serfdom at the beginning of the century, and long live the Liberator of the People! There was in those days a general of aristocratic connections, the owner of great estates, one of those men--somewhat exceptional, I believe, even then--who, retiring from the service into a life of leisure, are convinced that they've earned absolute power over the lives of their subjects. There were such men then. So our general, settled on his property of two thousand souls, lives in pomp, and domineers over his poor neighbors as though they were dependents and buffoons. He has kennels of hundreds of hounds and nearly a hundred dog-boys--all mounted, and in uniform. One day a serf-boy, a little child of eight, threw a stone in play and hurt the paw of the general's favorite hound. ' Why is my favorite dog lame?' He is told that the boy threw a stone that hurt the dog's paw. ' So you did it.' The general looked the child up and down. ' Take him.' He was taken--taken from his mother and kept shut up all night. Early that morning the general comes out on horseback, with the hounds, his dependents, dog-boys, and huntsmen, all mounted around him in full hunting parade. The servants are summoned for their edification, and in front of them all stands the mother of the child. The child is brought from the lock-up. It's a gloomy, cold, foggy autumn day, a capital day for hunting. The general orders the child to be undressed; the child is stripped naked. He shivers, numb with terror, not daring to cry.... ' Make him run,' commands the general. ' Run! run!' shout the dog-boys. The boy runs.... ' At him!' . . the General roared. The whole pack was set on the boy and the hounds tore him to pieces before his mother’s eyes. I believe that, as a result of this, the General was later declared incompetent to administer his own estates without an appointed supervisory body . To be shot? To be shot for the satisfaction of our moral feelings? Speak, Alyosha!""","One night, we were all fast asleep. We hear a knock at the door. We get up and in walk Pere Ange and my brother, both in disguise. They spent the following day in our house and the next, at first light, they decamped. They went with their pockets well lined, for as he embraced me Jean said: 'I've married off all your sisters. If I'd stayed in the monastery for another couple of years, the way I was going, you'd have ended up one of the biggest farmers round about. But that's all finished now , I've done all I could for you. Goodbye, Jacques. If things turn out well for Pere Ange and me, you'll know it.'",0,0.99566853,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 Once. "" The traveler heard the words and thanked him again. "" The Bodhisattva said, ""That monster has many supernatural powers, but it is no less than yours. Immediately, he invited the Bodhisattva to go out, and then he rode the auspicious cloud with him, arrived at the Black Wind Mountain early, fell into the cloud head, and followed the road to find a hole. Well, I will go with you on the face of Monk Tang.","Taking the cover, Monkey pressed down on his cloud and went straight to the roof of the meditation hall, where he spread the cover over the Tang Priest, the dragon horse, and the luggage. Then he went to sit on top of the aged monk's room to protect the cassock. As he watched them starting the fire he kept on reciting a spell and blew some magic breath towards the Southwest, at which a wind arose and fanned the flames up into a wild and roaring blaze.",0,0.9956006,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 “I only began to understand when I saw her in the coffin…” He sobbed, but immediately continued hurriedly: “It was only when I saw her dead face that I understood everything I had done. he cried several times and said no more. Oh! Oh!” He who has not lived through this cannot understand! I realized that I—I—had killed her, that it was through me that she, who had been living, moving, warm, was now motionless, waxlike, and cold, and that there was no way of ever again making it right—never, never again! Oh! ","It was not from fear. I had been afraid almost all my life, I had been a coward—what does my book contain except the story of my cowardice!—but just then I was not afraid. The only feeling I had was an infinite disappointment that I never would reach those who were waiting. Nor had I any thought that my life would be worth saving under circumstances like those. Imprisonment or death seemed to me about the same just then. In both cases my road to the others was broken. When it later was made clear to me that my discovery had indeed not saved me, that my life would have been spared anyway, that a great number of prisoners was a desirable gain for the border state since there as with us the birth rate was not keeping up with the losses in the great wars—when all this was made clear to me it aroused no regret, changed nothing in my attitude.",0,0.9956006,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 ‘But then – Olga loves me!’ he thought on the way. ‘ She who is so young and so fresh! She, whose imagination should be wideawake to the poetic side of life, ought to be dreaming of black-haired, curly-headed youths, tall and slender, with thoughtful, hidden power, with courage in their faces, a proud smile, with that melting and trembling light in the eye that touches the heart so easily, and with a gentle fresh voice that sounds like a harp-string. It is true there are women who do not care for youth, courage, good dancing, clever riding. … Olga, I daresay, is no ordinary girl whose heart can be won by a handsome moustache or whose ears can be charmed by the rattle of a sword; but then something else is needed – intelligence, for instance, so that a woman should yield and bow her head to it as the rest of the world does.… Or a famous artist. But what am I? Now Stolz is another matter. Oblomov—nothing more. . . or myself for that matter. I’m Oblomov! No matter where he goes or whom he meets, before you know it he’s taken charge and is playing them like an instrument. I can’t even control Zakhar . But what about me? Stolz! Stolz is intellect, strength, and the ability to control himself, others, and his destiny. good Lord, she loves him,’ he thought with horror. ‘ She said so herself. Like a friend, she said. But that’s a lie, an unconscious lie perhaps. There can be no friendship between man and woman.","What about hatred, then? No, too fierce. Rage? But that would wreck the harmony completely. Bitterness? No, too vulgar, unless it had a poetic air of romance to it. After pondering this and that possibility, I finally light on the answer: the one emotion that I’ve forgotten to include in my list is pity.",0,0.99553156,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 Ivanushka fell into anxiety. He sat up in bed, looked around uneasily, even groaned, spoke to himself, and got up. The storm raged more and more and, apparently, disturbed his soul. He was also upset by the troubling footsteps and muted voices that his ear, accustomed to the constant silence, heard outside the door. He called, already nervous and trembling:","He went at random, not even remembering where to turn from the hut - to the right or to the left; last night, hurrying here with the priest, he did not notice the road. There was no revenge on anyone in his soul, not even on Samsonov. He walked along the narrow forest path senselessly, lost, with a ""lost idea"" and not caring at all about where he was going.",0,0.9954615,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 Nagel said, smiling, “I’ll be glad to jabber away. All in all, I’m minded to this evening , God knows what’s come over me.... Well, actually, that little dream wasn’t anything to talk about. True, I did see an open marsh, without trees, only with lots of roots lying about everywhere, like strangely writhing serpents. And then a madman who was walking around among all those crooked tree roots. I can still see him, he was pale and had a dark beard, but the beard was so small and sparse that his skin showed through everywhere. He was staring about him with wide-open eyes, and his eyes were full of suffering. Hiding behind a rock, I called out to him. Then he immediately looked over to the stone and did not wonder where the cry came from; it was as if he knew that was exactly where I was, although I was well hidden. He kept staring at the stone all the time. I shouted again; I cried many times in a row, to excite him skilfully, and he proceeded to work with the roots and get them away, he threw them away in embraces and struggled hard to get over to me; but it was in vain. And although I did not like him standing and staring at me, I shouted again to tease him. I thought: he will not find me anyway and in the worst case I can run my way if he comes. He took a few steps towards me, he had opened his mouth and made himself bite; but he did not go away, the roots piled up in front of him, he was loaded down by roots and did not come off the stain. But it was no use. Then he started groaning, so loud that I could hear him despite the distance, his eyes fixed in a painful stare. When I saw I was perfectly safe, I got up and swung my cap, showing myself in my full height, teasing him by continually shouting halloo to him, stamping the ground and shouting halloo. I even went closer so I could tease him more cruelly still, thumbing my nose at him and crying halloo insultingly close to his ears, to bewilder him even more, if possible. Then I retraced my steps, leaving him there to realize how close to him I had been. But he wasn’t quite giving up; he was still struggling with the roots, inured to pain as he toiled to clear them away, getting scratched till the blood came and hurting his face, then raising himself on tiptoe to scream at me. Yes, can you imagine, he stood bolt upright on tiptoe staring at me and screaming! His face was dripping with perspiration, distorted by terrible suffering because he couldn’t get hold of me. Wanting to goad him even further, I went closer still, snapping my fingers under his nose and calling ‘tee-hee-hee-hee-hee’ with the most awful mockery. I flung a tree root at him, hitting him in the mouth, and almost succeeded in knocking him down; but he simply spat out the blood, put his hand to his mouth and continued to struggle with the roots. Then, thinking I could risk it, I stretched out my hand to touch him; I wanted to put my finger on his forehead and withdraw again. But at that moment he caught me. Good Lord, what a fright it gave me to be caught like that! He made a furious grab at me and clutched my hand. I screamed, but he simply held my hand and followed me. We walked out of the marsh—the tree roots no longer hampered him once he’d gotten hold of my hand—and came to the rock where I had at first been hiding. When we got there, the man prostrated himself before me and kissed the ground I had walked on; bloody and bruised, he kneeled before me, thanking me for having been kind to him. Then he blessed me, and prayed to God to bless me as well. His eyes were candid and filled with good prayers to God for me, and he didn’t kiss my hand, or even my shoes, but the ground where my shoes had trod. ‘Why do you kiss the ground exactly where I’ve walked?’ I asked.—‘Because,’ he said, ‘because my mouth is bleeding and I don’t want to dirty your shoes. ’ —He didn’t want to dirty my shoes! Again I said, ‘But why do you thank me when I’ve done you harm and caused you pain?’—‘I thank you,’ he replied, ’‘because you didn’t cause me more pain, because you were kind enough not to torture me still more. ’ — ‘All right,’ I said, ‘but why did you scream at me and open your mouth to bite me?’—‘I wasn’t going to bite you,’ he replied, ‘I opened my mouth to ask you for help; but I couldn’t utter a word and you didn’t understand. And then I screamed because I suffered so terribly. ’ —‘So that ’s why you screamed?’ I asked.—‘Yes, that’s why!’ ... I looked at the lunatic—he was still spitting blood but prayed to God for me all the same. I realized I had seen him before and that I knew him; he was a middle-aged man with gray hair and a miserable little beard—it was Miniman.” Nagel fell silent.","But dreams, which are a loophole in the spirit, let the bug back in and I spent the whole night delving into the mystery without explaining it.",0,0.9954615,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 And in he went. The paths were overgrown with long grass and tangled weeds. It was the first quarter of the month, and the crescent moon gave off just enough light for him to make out the gateways and doors. He groped his way forwards until he found himself standing before the building that stood at the rear of the main compound. He climbed on to the terrace and thought it seemed a delightful place to take a little nap. The slender arc of the moon shining in the western sky seemed to hold the hills in its mouth. He sat there a long while without observing anything unusual, and began to smile to himself at the foolish rumours about the place being haunted. Spreading his mat, and choosing a stone for a pillow, he lay there gazing up at the constellations of the Cowherd and the Spinning Maid in the night sky. By the end of the first watch, he was just beginning to doze off when he heard the patter of footsteps from below, and a servant-girl appeared, carrying a lotus-shaped lantern. The sight of Yin seemed to startle her and she made as if to flee, calling out to someone behind her, ‘There's a strange-looking man here!’ ‘Who is it?’ replied a voice. ‘I don’t know.’ Presently an old gentleman appeared and, approaching Yin, scrutinized him. ‘Why, that is the future President Yin! He is fast asleep. We can carry on as planned. He is a broad-minded fellow and will not take offence.’ The old man led the maid on into the building, where they threw open all the doors. After a while a great many guests started arriving, and the upper rooms were as brightly lit as if it had been broad daylight. Yin tossed and turned on the terrace where he lay. Then he sneezed. The old man, hearing that he was awake, came out and knelt down by his side. ‘My daughter, sir, is being given in marriage tonight. I had no idea that Your Excellency would be here, and crave your indulgence.’ Yin rose to his feet and made the old man do likewise. ‘I was not aware that a wedding was taking place tonight. I regret I have brought no gift with me.’ ‘Your very presence is gift enough,’ replied the old man graciously, ‘and will help to ward off noxious influences. Would you be so kind as to honour us further with your company now?’ Yin assented. Then a woman went out to worship, and the year was over forty. Weng said: ""This is clumsy."" The Duke bowed to him. Entering the building, it is beautifully furnished. When Russia heard the roar of sheng music, someone rushed up and said, ""It's here! The old man hurried out to receive his future son-in-law, and Yin remained standing where he was in expectation. After a little while, a bevy of servants bearing gauze lanterns ushered in the groom, a handsome young man of seventeen or eighteen, of a most distinguished appearance and prepossessing bearing. The old gentleman bade him pay his respects to the guest of honour, and the young man turned to Yin, whom he took to be some sort of Master of Ceremonies, and bowed to him in the appropriate fashion. Then the old man and the groom exchanged formal courtesies, and when these were completed, they took their seats. Presently a throng of finely attired serving-maids came forward, with choice wines and steaming dishes of meat. Jade bowls and golden goblets glistened on the tables. When the wine had been round several times, the old gentleman dispatched one of the maids to summon the bride. The maid departed on her errand, but when she had been gone a long while and still there was no sign of his daughter, the old man himself eventually rose from his seat and, lifting the portière, went into the inner apartments to chivvy her along. At last several maids and serving-women ushered in the bride, to the sound of tinkling jade pendants, and the scent of musk and orchid wafted through the room. Obedient to her father's instructions, she curtseyed to the senior guests and then took her seat by her mother's side. Yin could see from a glance that beneath the kingfisher-feather ornaments she was a young woman of extraordinary beauty. They were drinking from large goblets of solid gold, each of which held well over a pint, and Yin thought to himself that one of these would be an ideal proof of his adventure that night. So he hid one in his sleeve, to show his friends on his return, then slumped across the table, pretending to have been overpowered by the wine. ‘ His Excellency is drunk,’ they remarked. A little later, Yin heard the groom take his leave, and as the pipes started up again, all the guests began trooping downstairs. The old gentleman came to gather up his golden goblets, and noticed that one of them was missing. He searched for it to no avail. Someone suggested their sleeping guest as the culprit, but the old gentleman promptly bid him be silent, for fear that Yin might hear.","And the great budding flower, still human, bent her head towards the source, her eyes drowned, her face smiling with voluptuous ecstasy, as if the handsome Narcissus had finally satisfied in death the desires he had inspired in himself. A few steps away, the nymph Echo was also dying, dying of unfulfilled desires; little by little she found herself caught in the stiffness of the ground, she felt her burning limbs freezing and hardening. She was not vulgar rock, soiled with moss, but white marble, by her shoulders and her arms, by her great dress of snow, from which the belt of foliage and the blue scarf had slipped. Slumped in the middle of the satin of her skirt, which broke in large folds, like a block of Paros[45], she fell back, having nothing left alive, in her frozen statue-like body, but her woman's eyes, eyes that gleamed, fixed on the flower of the waters, leaning languidly over the mirror of the spring.",0,0.9954615,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 “But here is the third son of the father of a modern family,” continued Ippolit Kirillovich, “he is in the dock, he is in front of us. Before us are his exploits, his life and his deeds: the time has come, and everything turned around, everything was revealed. In contrast to the “Europeanism” and the “folk principles” of his brothers, he seems to be portraying immediate Russia - oh, not all, not all, and God save it, if only all! And yet, here she, our Rosseyushka, smells of her, she can be heard, mother. Oh, we are spontaneous , we are evil and good in an amazing mixture, we are lovers of education and Schiller, and at the same time we rage in taverns and snatch beards from drunks, our drinking companions. Oh, and we are good and beautiful, but only when we ourselves are good and beautiful. On the contrary, we are even overwhelmed - precisely overwhelmed - by the noblest ideals, but only on the condition that they are achieved by themselves, fall down to our table from heaven, and, most importantly, for nothing, for nothing, so that we don't pay anything for them. We do not like to pay terribly, but we really like to receive, and this is in everything. Oh, give, give us all sorts of blessings of life (namely all sorts, we won't make it up cheaper) and especially do not interfere with our disposition in anything, and then we will prove that we can be good and beautiful. We are not greedy, no, but, nevertheless, give us money, more, more, as much money as possible, and you will see how generously, with what contempt for despicable metal, we scatter them in one night in unrestrained revelry. And if they don't give us money, we'll show how we can get it when we really want to. But more on that later, we will follow in order. First of all, we have before us a poor abandoned boy, “in the backyard without boots,” as our venerable and respected fellow citizen put it earlier, alas, of foreign origin! I will repeat once again - I will not concede the defense of the defendant to anyone! I am an accuser and I am a defender. Yes, sir, we are people, and we are human, and we will be able to weigh how the first impressions of childhood and our home nest can affect the character. But now the boy is already a young man, already a young man, an officer; for violent deeds and for a challenge to a duel, he is exiled to one of the remote border towns of our fertile Russia. There he serves, there he goes on a carouse, and of course - a big ship and a voyage. We need funds, sir, funds first of all, and now, after long disputes, he and his father have settled on the last six thousand rubles, and they are sent to him. Note, he issued the document, and there is a letter from him, in which he almost renounces the rest and ends the quarrel with his father by inheritance with these six thousand. Here he meets a young, high character and development girl. Oh, I dare not repeat the details He looked at her, saw clearly what was in her mind (he's admitted here before you that he understood it all), appropriated that three thousand unconditionally, and squandered it in two days with the new object of his affections. The figure of the young officer, frivolous and profligate, doing homage to true nobility and a lofty ideal, was shown in a very sympathetic light before us. The same lady, bathed in tears of long-concealed indignation, alleged that he, he of all men, had despised her for her action, which, though incautious, reckless perhaps, was still dictated by lofty and generous motives. Honor, self-sacrifice were shown there, and I will be silent. But the other side of the medal was unexpectedly turned to us immediately after in this very court. Again I will not venture to conjecture why it happened so, but there were causes. He, he, the girl's betrothed, looked at her with that smile of mockery, which was more insufferable from him than from any one. And knowing that he had already deceived her (he had deceived her, believing that she was bound to endure everything from him, even treachery), she intentionally offered him three thousand roubles, and clearly, too clearly, let him understand that she was offering him money to deceive her. ' Well, will you take it or not, are you so lost to shame?' was the dumb question in her scrutinizing eyes. What to believe? Is it the first legend - an impulse of lofty nobility, giving the last means for life and bowing to virtue, or the other side of a medal so disgusting? It usually happens in life that when there are two opposites, the truth must be sought in the middle; in the present case, this is literally not the case. Most likely, in the first case, he was sincerely noble, and in the second case, he was just as sincerely low. Why? But precisely because we are broad natures, Karamaz-like, - I am leading to this, - capable of accommodating all kinds of opposites and at once contemplating both abysses , the abyss above us, the abyss of the highest ideals, and the abyss below us, the abyss of the lowest and most fetid fall ... Remember the brilliant thought expressed earlier by a young observer who deeply and closely contemplated the entire Karamazov family, Mr. Rakitin: “The feeling of the baseness of a fall is just as necessary for these unbridled, unrestrained natures as the feeling of supreme nobility,” and this is true: it is they who need this unnatural mix constantly and continuously. Two abysses, two abysses, gentlemen, at the same moment - without that we are unhappy and dissatisfied, our existence is incomplete. We are wide, wide, like our whole mother Russia, we can accommodate everything and get along with everything! By the way, gentlemen of the jury, we have now touched on these three thousand rubles, and I will allow myself to run a little ahead. Imagine that he, this character, having then received this money, and even in this way, through such shame, through such shame, through the last degree of humiliation, - just imagine that on the same day he could, as it were, separate half of them, sew it into the palm of your hand and then have the firmness to wear them around your neck for a whole month, despite all the temptations and extreme needs! Neither in a drunken revelry in taverns, nor when he had to fly from the city to get God knows who the money he needed most to take his beloved away from the temptations of his rival, his father, did he dare to touch that palm. Yes, even just in order not to leave his beloved to the temptations of the old man, to whom he was so jealous, he should have unsealed his palm and stayed at home as an unrelenting guard of his beloved, waiting for the moment when she would finally say to him: “I am yours “To fly with her somewhere far away from the present fatal situation. But no, he does not touch his talisman, and under what pretext? The original pretext, we said, was that when they told him: “I’m yours, take me wherever you want,” then there would be something to take away. But this first pretext, according to the defendant's own words, turned pale before the second. As long as, they say, I carry this money on me - “I am a scoundrel, but not a thief,” because I can always go to the bride I have offended and, having laid out before her this half of the entire amount deceitfully appropriated from her, I can always say to her: “You see, I squandered half of your money and proved by the fact that I am a weak and immoral person and, if you want, a scoundrel (I use the language of the defendant himself), but even a scoundrel, not a thief, for if I were a thief, I would not bring you this half of the remaining money, and would have appropriated it, as well as the first half. "" Amazing explanation of the fact! This most frantic, but weak man, who could not refuse the temptation to accept three thousand rubles in such a shame - this very man suddenly feels such a stoic firmness in himself and wears thousands of rubles around his neck, not daring to touch them! Is this in any way consistent with the character we are examining? No, and I will allow myself to tell you what the real Dmitry Karamazov would have done in this case, even if he had really decided to sew his money into the palm of his hand. At the first temptation - well, at least in order to amuse the same new beloved with whom he had already spent the first half of the same money - he would have embroidered his palm and separated it from it, well, let’s say, for the first case, at least only one hundred rubles, because half, that is, one and a half thousand, and a thousand and four hundred rubles is enough - after all, everything will come out the same: 'a scoundrel, they say, not a thief, because nevertheless he brought back at least one thousand four hundred rubles, but the thief would still took it and brought nothing. "" Then, after a few more time, I would again embroider my palm and again took out the second hundred, then the third, then the fourth, and not later than the end of the month I would finally take out the penultimate hundred: they say, I’ll bring back one hundred, everything will come out the same: “ a scoundrel, not a thief. He missed twenty-nine hundred, and yet he returned one, the thief would not have returned that either. "" And, finally, having already pumped this penultimate hundred, I would have looked at the last one and would have said to myself: “ But you really shouldn’t take one hundred - let’s do that too!” This is how the real Dmitry Karamazov, as we know, would have done! The legend about the palm is such a contradiction with reality, which could not be imagined anymore. You can assume everything, not this. But we will come back to this later. ""","her intent, scrutinizing eyes asked him. He met her look and understood perfectly what she was thinking (why, he admitted here in court that he had understood everything), but he went on and took that three thousand and squandered it all in two days, on a wild spree with his new mistress. So what are we to believe? The first legend about the impulse of this noble man who gives away his last penny and who admires the young lady’s virtue? Or the obverse side of the coin, that is so revolting? Usually, in life, the truth lies between the two extremes. But, in this case, this rule definitely does not apply. Most probably, he was absolutely sincere in his generous impulse in the first instance, and just as sincere in his villainy in the second. And why is this so?",0,0.9954615,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 As usual, there was at first no response to K.'s ring at the door. ""Leni could be a bit quicker,"" thought K. But he could at least be glad there was nobody else interfering as usually happened, be it the man in his nightshirt or anyone else who might bother him. As K. pressed on the button for the second time he looked back at the other door, but this time it, too, remained closed. At last, two eyes appeared at the spy-hatch in the lawyer's door, although they weren't Leni's eyes. Someone unlocked the door, but kept himself pressed against it as he called back inside, ""It's him!"", and only then did he open the door properly. K. pushed against the door, as behind him he could already hear the key being hurriedly turned in the lock of the door to the other flat. When the door in front of him finally opened, he stormed straight into the hallway. Through the corridor which led between the rooms he saw Leni, to whom the warning cry of the door opener had been directed, still running away in her nightshirt. He looked at her for a moment and then looked round at the person who had opened the door. It was a small, wizened man with a full beard, he held a candle in his hand. ""Do you work here? "" asked K. "" No,"" answered the man, ""I don't belong here at all, the lawyer is only representing me, I'm here on legal business."" ""Without your coat?"" asked K., indicating the man's deficiency of dress with a gesture of his hand. ""Oh, do forgive me!"" said the man, and he looked at himself in the light of the candle he was holding as if he had not known about his appearance until then. ""Is Leni your lover? "" asked K. curtly. He had set his legs slightly apart, his hands, in which he held his hat, were behind his back. Merely by being in possession of a thick overcoat he felt his advantage over this thin little man. "" Oh God,"" he said and, shocked, raised one hand in front of his face as if in defence, ""no, no, what can you be thinking?"" ""You look honest enough,"" said K. with a smile, ""but come along anyway. "" K. indicated with his hat which way the man was to go and let him go ahead of him. ""What is your name then?"" asked K. on the way. "" Block. I'm a businessman,"" said the small man, twisting himself round as he thus introduced himself, although K. did not allow him to stop moving. ""Is that your real name?"" asked K. ""Of course it is,"" was the man's reply, ""why do you doubt it?"" ""I thought you might have some reason to keep your name secret,"" said K. He felt himself as much at liberty as is normally only felt in foreign parts when speaking with people of lower standing, keeping everything about himself to himself, speaking only casually about the interests of the other, able to raise him to a level above one's own, but also able, at will, to let him drop again. K. stopped at the door of the lawyer's office, opened it and, to the businessman who had obediently gone ahead, called, ""Not so fast! Bring some light here!"" K. thought Leni might have hidden in here, he let the businessman search in every corner, but the room was empty. In front of the picture of the judge K. took hold of the businessman's braces to stop him moving on. ""You don't have much insight,"" said K. "" he asked, pointing up with his index finger. "" The merchant lifted the candle, blinked, and said: ""It's a judge."" ""It's a high judge,"" he said. Do you know him?"" The merchant looked up in admiration. ""A high judge?"" asked K., standing sideways in front of the merchant to observe the impression the picture made on him. He is the lowest of the lowest examining judges."" ""I remember now,"" said the businessman as he lowered the candle, ""that's what I've already been told."" ""Well of course you have,"" called out K., ""I'd forgotten about it, of course you would already have been told."" ""But why, why?"" asked the businessman as he moved forwards towards the door, propelled by the hands of K. Outside in the corridor K. said, ""You know where Leni's hidden, do you?"" ""Hidden?"" said the businessman, ""No, but she might be in the kitchen cooking soup for the lawyer."" ""Why didn't you say that immediately?"" asked K. ""I was going to take you there, but you called me back again,"" answered the businessman, as if confused by the contradictory commands. ""You think you're very clever, don't you,"" said K, ""now take me there!"" K. had never been in the kitchen, it was surprisingly big and very well equipped. The stove alone was three times bigger than normal stoves, but it was not possible to see any detail beyond this as the kitchen was at the time illuminated by no more than a small lamp hanging by the entrance. At the stove stood Leni, in a white apron as always, breaking eggs into a pot standing on a spirit lamp. "" Good evening, Josef,"" she said with a glance sideways. "" Good evening,"" said K., pointing with one hand to a chair in a corner which the businessman was to sit on, and he did indeed sit down on it. K. however went very close behind Leni's back, leant over her shoulder and asked, ""Who is this man? "" Leni put one hand around K. as she stirred the soup with the other, she drew him forward toward herself and said, ""He's a pitiful character, a poor businessman by the name of Block. Just look at him. "" The two of them looked back over their shoulders. The businessman was sitting on the chair that K. had directed him to, he had extinguished the candle whose light was no longer needed and pressed on the wick with his fingers to stop the smoke. ""You were in your nightshirt,"" said K., putting his hand on her head and turning it back towards the stove. She was silent. ""Is he your lover?"" asked K. She was about to take hold of the pot of soup, but K. took both her hands and said, ""Answer me!"" She said, ""Come into the office, I'll explain everything to you."" ""No,"" said K., ""I want you to explain it here. "" She put her arms around him and wanted to kiss him. K., though, pushed her away and said, ""I don't want you to kiss me now."" ""Josef,"" said Leni, looking at K. imploringly but frankly in the eyes, ""you're not going to be jealous of Mr. Block now, are you? Rudi,"" she then said, turning to the businessman, ""help me out will you, I'm being suspected of something, you can see that, leave the candle alone. "" It had looked as though Mr. Block had not been paying attention but he had been following closely. ""I don't even know why you might be jealous,"" he said ingenuously. "" Nor do I, actually,"" said K., looking at the businessman with a smile. Leni laughed out loud and while K. was not paying attention took the opportunity of embracing him and whispering, ""Leave him alone, now, you can see what sort of person he is. I've been helping him a little bit because he's an important client of the lawyer's, and no other reason. And what about you? Do you want to speak to the lawyer at this time of day? He's very unwell today, but if you want I'll tell him you're here. But you can certainly spend the night with me. It's so long since you were last here, even the lawyer has been asking about you. Don't neglect your case! And I've got some things to tell you that I've learned about. But now, before anything else, take your coat off!"" She helped him off with his coat, took the hat off his head, ran with the things into the hallway to hang them up, then she ran back and saw to the soup. ""Do you want me to tell him you're here straight away or take him his soup first?"" ""Tell him I'm here first,"" said K. He was in a bad mood, he had originally intended a detailed discussion of his business with Leni, especially the question of his giving the lawyer notice, but now he no longer wanted to because of the presence of the businessman. Now he considered his affair too important to let this little businessman take part in it and perhaps change some of his decisions, and so he called Leni back even though she was already on her way to the lawyer. ""Bring him his soup first,"" he said, ""I want him to get his strength up for the discussion with me, he'll need it."" ""You're a client of the lawyer's too, aren't you,"" said the businessman quietly from his corner as if he were trying to find this out. It was not, however, taken well. ""What business is that of yours?"" said K., and Leni said, ""Will you be quiet. - I'll take him his soup first then, shall I? "" And she poured the soup into a dish. "" The only worry then is that he might go to sleep soon after he's eaten."" ""What I've got to say to him will keep him awake,"" said K., who still wanted to intimate that he intended some important negotiations with the lawyer, he wanted Leni to ask him what it was and only then to ask her advice. But instead, she just promptly carried out the order he had given her. When she went over to him with the dish she deliberately brushed against him and whispered, ""I'll tell him you're here as soon as he's eaten the soup so that I can get you back as soon as possible."" ""Just go,"" said K., ""just go."" ""Be a bit more friendly,"" she said and, still holding the dish, turned completely round once more in the doorway.","All belonged to one another, the apparent parties to the right and left, and when he turned suddenly he saw the same insignia on the coroner's collar, who was looking down calmly, his hands in his lap. "" So,"" cried K. and threw up his arms, the sudden realization wanted space, ""you're all civil servants, as I can see, you're the corrupt gang I spoke against, you crowded around here, as listeners and snoops, formed apparent factions, and one applauded to test me, you wanted to learn how to seduce the innocent!",0,0.9954615,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 When his first wife died (the mother of the student Pokrovsky), he took it into his head to marry a second time, and married a bourgeois woman. With a new wife in the house, everything went upside down; no one could live from her; she took them all into her own hands. Student Pokrovsky was then still a child, about ten years old.","But he began to go to pieces; in two years he became an alcoholic, and a novelist to boot! When he met people who tried to ask him about himself, he merely answered that he was a fact. ‘I’m a fact!’ he would exclaim, his mouth drawn tight in arrogance. Well, this doesn’t concern you. You mentioned a philosopher who had never learned to think—or was it I who was talking about him? I’m sorry— by now I’m really drunk, but so what? Don’t let that bother you.",0,0.9953904,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 What is painful is that I am in such uncertainty, that I have no future to look forward to, that I cannot even guess what will become of me. It is dreadful to look back, too. There is such sorrow in the past, and my heart is torn in two at the very memory of it.","I don’t want to know him now! What does he want with me, poor me? Oh! I am in such terror now, I keep expecting Bykov to walk in every minute. What will happen to me, what more has fate in store for me?",0,0.9953904,1
+"lexical = 80, order = 100 How it would all have ended I do not know , had not a curious incident helped to bring about a rapprochement. One evening, when my mother was sitting in Anna Thedorovna’s room, I crept on tiptoe to Pokrovski’s apartment, in the belief that he was not at home. Some strange impulse moved me to do so. True, we had lived cheek by jowl with one another; yet never once had I caught a glimpse of his abode. Consequently my heart beat loudly—so loudly, indeed, that it seemed almost to be bursting from my breast. On entering the room I glanced around me with tense interest. The apartment was very poorly furnished, and bore few traces of orderliness. On table and chairs there lay heaps of books; everywhere were books and papers. Then a strange thought entered my head, as well as, with the thought, an unpleasant feeling of irritation. It seemed to me that my friendship, my heart’s affection, meant little to him, for HE was well-educated, whereas I was stupid, and had learned nothing, and had read not a single book. So I stood looking wistfully at the long bookshelves where they groaned under their weight of volumes. I felt filled with grief, disappointment, and a sort of frenzy. I felt that I MUST read those books, and decided to do so—to read them one by one, and with all possible speed. Probably the idea was that, by learning whatsoever HE knew, I should render myself more worthy of his friendship. So, I made a rush towards the bookcase nearest me, and, without stopping further to consider matters, seized hold of the first dusty tome upon which my hands chanced to alight, and, reddening and growing pale by turns, and trembling with fear and excitement, clasped the stolen book to my breast with the intention of reading it by candle light while my mother lay asleep at night. ","I once, however, chanced to witness how frightened the poor man became when Pokrovsky asked him not to touch the books.",0,0.9953904,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 Gregory was dumbfounded. The boy looked mockingly at the teacher. There was even something arrogant in his eyes. Gregory could not resist. "" And that's where it comes from!"" - he shouted and furiously hit the student on the cheek. The boy endured a slap in the face without saying a word, but hid again in a corner for several days. It just so happened that a week later he developed an epileptic illness for the first time in his life, which did not leave him later in his entire life. Upon learning of this, Fyodor Pavlovich seemed to suddenly change his view of the boy. Fyodor Pavlovich had rather a lot of books, some hundred or more volumes, but no one had ever seen him actually reading one. The fits arrived once a month on average, and varied in duration. Instruction of him in whatever subject was also for the present something he forbade. Previously he had viewed him more or less with indifference, though he never rebuked him and on meeting him invariably gave him a copeck or two. Now, however, learning of his illness, he became positively concerned about him, summoned a doctor to effect a cure until it proved that no cure was possible. Once, however, when the boy was about fifteen, Fyodor Pavlovich observed him hanging about near the book-cupboard and trying to read the titles of the books through the glass. Fyodor Pavlovich forbade Grigory in the strictest terms to punish the boy physically, and began to admit him to his chambers upstairs. The fits were also of varying intensity – some were insignificant, others very cruel. In a good-natured frame of mind he would occasionally send the boy some sweet morsel from his table. He immediately handed the key to the closet to Smerdyakov: “Well, read it, you’ll be a librarian, than wander around the yard, sit down and read. Read this one, ”and Fyodor Pavlovich took out“ Evenings on a Farm Near Dikanka ”for him.","Slowly, groping awkwardly with his feelers, which he was only now learning to appreciate, he dragged himself toward the door, wanting to see what had happened. His left side felt like one long unpleasantly contracting scar, and he was forced to limp outright on his two rows of legs. One of these diminutive legs, incidentally, had suffered grievous injuries in the course of the morning’s events —it was almost miraculous only one had been injured—and now trailed lifelessly behind him.",0,0.9953181,1
+"lexical = 80, order = 60 I arrived home in a melancholy state of mind, sat down at the table, warmed my teapot and made myself a couple of glasses of tea. Suddenly I saw Gorshkov, our poor lodger, coming towards me. Earlier, on the morning of that day, I had noticed him poking about near the other residents and looking as though he wanted to come up to me. I should tell you in passing, little mother, that he is far worse off than I am. Far, far worse off! He has a wife and children! If I were in his shoes, I don’t know what I should do. Well, anyway, our Gorshkov came in and bowed, a tear festering in his eyelashes as always, shuffling his feet and unable to get a word out. I made him sit down on my other chair – it’s broken, I know, but it must suffice. I offered him some tea. He kept trying to give me reasons why he shouldn’t have any, went on for ages about that, but he finally accepted a glass. He would have drunk it without sugar, and began once more to resist when I tried to persuade him to take some, spent a long time arguing and refusing, and finally put the very smallest lump in his glass, assuring me that the tea I had given him was unusually sweet. Oh, what humiliations people are driven to by poverty!‘Well, what is it, old fellow?’ I said to him. ‘Oh, it’s like this, Makar Alekseyevich, my benefactor,’ he said. IShow the Lord’s mercy and help my unhappy family; I’ve a wife and children, and they have nothing to eat; think how hard that is for me to bear as a father!’ I started to reply, but he broke me off: ‘I’m scared of all the people here, Makar Alekseyevich – that is to say , I’m not so much scared of them, as, well, you know, ashamed in front of them; they’re all such a proud and conceited lot. Normally I wouldn’t have bothered you, my friend and benefactor: I know that you yourself have been in difficulties, I know that you’re not in a position to give me much, but at least lend me something. Also,’ he said, ‘I’ve made so bold as to ask you because I know you have a kind heart , I know that you yourself have been in need, that you are even now experiencing misfortunes – and that your heart will therefore feel compassion.’ He concluded by asking me to forgive him for his ‘insolence and impropriety’. I replied that I would like nothing better than to lend him some money, but that I had none, absolutely nothing. ‘ Makar Alekseyevich, old chap ,’ he said to me, ‘it’s not much I’m asking for, it’s just that what with one thing and another (here he blushed all over ) my wife and children are hungry – if you could even just spare me a copper or two.’ Well, when I heard that I felt a tug at my heart. ‘ Why,’ I thought,’they’re even worse off than I am!’ But all I had left was twenty copecks, and I needed it all: I was going to spend it the following day on my most basic requirements. ‘ No, my dear fellow, I can’t; what with one thing and another,’ I said. ‘Please, Makar Alekseyevich, old chap, give me something, however little, even if it’s just ten copecks,’ he replied. Well, little mother, I took my twenty copecks out of my money-box and gave it to him: it was my good deed for the day! Oh, poverty! I engaged him in conversation. ‘How is it, old chap, that you’re in such a plight, yet you’re renting a room that costs five silver rubles a month?’ He explained to me that he had taken the room six months earlier and had paid three months’ rent in advance; then, however, circumstances had conspired against him in such a way that he did not know which way to turn, poor fellow. He had hoped that his case would be settled by this time. But it’s an unsavoury sort of case he is got himself into. You see, Varenka, he is up before the courts for something. he is litigating with some merchant or other who swindled the state authorities over the matter of a contract; the deception was found out and the merchant was arrested, but he managed to implicate Gorshkov in his criminal deeds, and Gorshkov was in some way involved in them. But in actual fact Gorshkov was only guilty of negligence, imprudence and inexcusable dereliction of the state is interests. The case has been going on for several years now: various obstacles keep cropping up in Gorshkov is way, making it impossible for him to clear his name. ‘ As regards the dishonesty of which I’m accused,’ Gorshkov tells me, ‘I’m not guilty, not guilty at all, and I’m not guilty of swindling and robbery either.’ This case has besmirched his reputation somewhat; he has been fired from the service, and although he has not been found guilty of any crime on the statute-books, until he has been completely acquitted he can’t get back from the merchant a certain whopping sum of money which he is owed and which is now the subject of a court dispute. I believe him, but the court won’t accept his word for it; it’s one of those cases in which there are so many ins and outs that you’d never unravel them all in a hundred years. No sooner have a few of them been ironed out than the merchant produces some more. I feel really sorry for Gorshkov, my dear, and I know what he is going through. The man has no job; no one will take him on because of his unreliable reputation; they’ve used up all the money they had saved, on food; the case is full of complications, yet meanwhile they needed to live; and meanwhile, without particular intention on their part, and quite unsuitably, a child was born – well, that involved expense; the son fell ill – more expense, and died – yet more expense; his wife is ill; she has some chronic ailment or other: in other words he is been suffering, suffering badly. He says, however, that he expects a satis-factory decision on his case in a few days’ time, and that this time there can be no doubt of it whatsoever. I felt sorry, sorry, oh, so sorry for him, little mother! I showed him kindness. he is a lost, frightened man; he is looking for someone to look after him, and that is why I showed him kindness. Well, goodbye, little mother, Christ be with you, keep well. My little dove! I have only to remember you, and it is like having a medicine applied to my sick soul, and even though I suffer for you, that suffering is easy for me.","How is it that he is so unsightly? What is he feeling at all? What sort of figure is he cutting on the one side or on the other? It is matter of common knowledge, my Barbara, that the poor man ranks lower than a rag, and will never earn the respect of any one. Yes, write about him as you like",0,0.9953181,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 And he continued his reverie. Never had things appeared to him with such total clarity. Everything now seemed easy, so strong did he feel. Since Albine was waiting for him, he would go and join her. That was only natural. In the morning he had married big Fortuné and Rosalie. The Church did not forbid marriage. He could see them again, smiling at each other, nudging each other, even as his hands were blessing them. Then in the evening he had been shown their bed. Every one of the words he had spoken to them now burst loudly upon his ears. He had told Fortuné that God was sending him a companion, because he did not want man to live alone. He had told Rosalie that she must bind herself to her husband, never leave him, and be his faithful servant. But he had said all those things also for himself and Albine. Was she not also his companion, his faithful servant, the one sent to him by God so that his virility should not wither away in solitude? Besides they were already bound together. He remained surprised that he had not understood that immediately, and not gone away with her, as duty demanded he should. But it was decided now, he would rejoin her on the morrow. He could do anything, he was the master, no one would tell him anything. If we looked at him, he would, with a gesture, lower all heads. The gold was rising again, streaming through his fingers. He was entering a bath of gold. He would call her his wife. In half an hour he would be with her. He would cross the village, he would take the hillside path; it was by far the shortest. They would be very happy. Then he would live with Albine. The sacred vessels he carried off for use in his household, which would be very grand, and people would be paid with bits of chalice that he fairly easily twisted off with his fingers. He hung over his marriage bed the curtains of cloth of gold from the altar. For jewels, he gave his wife the gold hearts, the gold chaplets, and the gold crosses hanging round the neck of the Virgin and the saints. The church itself, if he added one more floor, could serve as their palace. God would have no objections, since loving was allowed. Anyway, what did God matter! Wasn’t it now he himself who was God, with his feet of gold that the crowd came and kissed, his feet that worked miracles?","Like every man whose natural abilities stimulate an aristocratic interest in his ancestry, he was accustomed to think of his forbears in connexion with the accomplishments and successes of his life, to assure himself of their approval, their satisfaction, their undeniable respect. He thought of them now, entangled as he was in such an illicit experience, caught in such exotic transgressions. He thought of their characteristic rigidity of principle, their scrupulous masculinity—and he smiled dejectedly. What would they say?",0,0.9953181,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 With M. Gillenormand pain was translated into anger; he was furious at being desperate. He had all the prejudices and took all the licenses. One of the things of which he composed his external relief and his inner satisfaction was, as we have just indicated, to have remained gallant green, and to pass energetically for such. He called it having “royal renown”. Royal renown sometimes brought him singular windfalls. One day they brought to his house in a hamper, like an oyster bed, a fat new-born boy, crying the devil and duly wrapped in swaddling clothes, which a servant, who had been chased out six months previously, attributed to him. M. Gillenormand was then perfectly eighty-four years old. Indignation and clamor in the entourage. And who was this cheeky bitch hoping to make believe that? What audacity ! what abominable calumny! M. Gillenormand was not angry. He looked at the jersey with the amiable smile of a slander flattered fellow, and said to the crowd: ""Well, what? What is that ? what is it ? What's the matter ? you marvel beautifully, and, in truth, like no ignorant people. Monsieur le Duc d'Angoulême, bastard of His Majesty Charles IX, married at the age of eighty-five to a peronal of fifteen; Monsieur Virginal, Marquis d'Alluye, brother of Cardinal de Sourdis, Archbishop of Bordeaux, had at the age of eighty-three from a chambermaid of Madame President Jacquin a son, a true son of love, who was a Knight of Malta and epee state adviser; one of the great men of this century, Abbé Tabaraud, is the son of a man of eighty-seven. These things are nothing out of the ordinary. And so the Bible! With that, I declare that this little gentleman is not mine. Let us take care of it. It's not his fault. — The process was debonair. The creature, that one named Magnon, sent him a second shipment the following year. He was still a boy. For once M. Gillenormand capitulated. He handed over the two brats to the mother, pledging to pay for their upkeep eighty francs a month, on condition that the said mother would not do so again. He added: “I hear the mother treats them well. I will go see them from time to time. Which he did. He had had a priest brother, who had been rector of the Academy of Poitiers for thirty-three years, and had died at the age of seventy-nine. I lost him young, he said. This brother, of whom little memory remains, was a peaceful miser, who, being a priest, believed himself obliged to give alms to the poor he met, but he never gave them anything but monnerons or demonetized pennies, thus finding a way to go to hell by the way of paradise. As for M. Gillenormand elder, he did not haggle over alms and gave willingly and nobly. He was benevolent, abrupt, charitable, and if he had been rich, his bent would have been magnificent. He wanted everything about him to be done grandly, even the cheatings. One day, in an estate, having been robbed by a businessman in a gross and conspicuous manner, he uttered this solemn exclamation: ―“Fi! it's badly done! I'm really ashamed of this nonsense. Everything has degenerated in this century, even the rascals. Morbleu! I’ve been robbed like a babe in the woods, in a shabby way. This is no way to rob a man of my standing. Sylvæ sint consul dignæ! “He had, as we have said, two wives; of the first a girl who had remained a girl, and of the second another girl, who died around the age of thirty, who had married for love or by chance or otherwise a soldier of fortune who had served in the armies of the republic and of the empire, had had the cross at Austerlitz and had been made a colonel at Waterloo. It's the shame of my family, said the old bourgeois. He was taking strong tobacco and had a particular grace in crumpling his lace jabot with the back of his hand. He believed very little in God.","that's not the way to rob a man like me. I am robbed as in a wood, but badly robbed.",1,0.113579586,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 Everything is over! My lot is cast; I don’t know what it will be, but I am resigned to God’s will. To-morrow we set off. I say good-bye to you for the last time, my precious one, my friend, my benefactor, my own! Don’t grieve for me, live happily, think of me, and may God’s blessing descend on us! I shall often remember you in my thoughts, in my prayers. So this time is over! I bring to my new life little consolation from the memories of the past; the more precious will be my memory of you, the more precious will your memory be to my heart. You are my one friend; you are the only one there who loved me. You know I have seen it all, I know how you love me! You were happy in a smile from me and a few words from my pen. Now you will have to get used to being without me. How will you do, left alone here? To whom am I leaving you my kind, precious, only friend! I leave you the book, the embroidery frame, the unfinished letter; when you look at those first words, you must read in your thoughts all that you would like to hear or read from me, all that I should have written to you; and what I could not write now! Think of your poor Varinka who loves you so truly. All your letters are at Fedora’s in the top drawer of a chest. You write that you are ill and Mr. Bykov will not let me go out anywhere to-day. I will write to you, my friend, I promise; but, God alone knows what may happen. And so we are saying good-bye now for ever, my friend, my darling, my own, for ever.... Oh, if only I could embrace you now! Good-bye, my dear; good-bye, good-bye. Live happily, keep well. My prayers will be always for you. Oh! how sad I am, how weighed down in my heart. Mr. Bykov is calling me. Your ever loving","“Madame la Comtesse, The Christian feelings that fill your heart have given me what is, I feel, the unforgivable boldness to write you. I am unhappy over the separation from my son. I beg your permission to see him once before my departure. Forgive me for reminding you of myself. I am turning to you rather than to Alexei Alexandrovich only because I do not want to make this magnanimous man suffer at the mention of myself. Knowing your friendship for him, I know you will understand me. Will you send Seryozha to see me, or shall I come to the house at a specific, appointed hour, or will you let me know when and where I might see him outside the house? I do not contemplate a refusal, knowing the magnanimity of the person on whom it depends. You cannot imagine the craving I feel to see him and so cannot imagine the gratitude your help will arouse in me.",0,0.9952448,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 This orderly depiction amazed K. at first, but then he said just as quietly as the painter: ""I think you're contradicting yourself."" ""How?"" the painter asked patiently, leaning back and smiling. This smile made K. feel as if he were about to discover contradictions not in the painter's words but in the court proceedings themselves. But he did not back down and said: 'You used to say that the court is inaccessible to evidence, later you reduced this to the public court, and now you even say that the innocent man needs no help before the court . Therein lies a contradiction. Furthermore, you have previously said that judges can be personally influenced, but now you deny that actual acquittal, as you call it, can ever be achieved through personal influence. Therein lies the second contradiction.' ' These contradictions are easy to clear up,' said the painter. ' We're talking about two different things here, what's in the law and what I've personally experienced, don't mix that up. The law, of course I haven't read it, says on the one hand that the innocent person will be acquitted, but on the other hand it doesn't say that the judges can be influenced. But now I've experienced just the opposite of that. I don't know of any real acquittal, but of many influences. It is of course possible that in all the cases known to me there was no innocence. But isn't that unlikely? In so many cases not a single innocence? Even as a child I listened closely to my father when he talked about trials at home, the judges who came to his studio also talked about the court, in our circles we talk about nothing else; As soon as I got the opportunity to go to court myself, I always took advantage of it, I have heard innumerable trials at important stages and followed them as far as they are visible, and - I must admit - not experienced a single real acquittal."" ""So not a single acquittal,"" said K., as if he were talking to himself and his hopes. “But that confirms the opinion I already have of the court. So it's useless from this side, too. A single hangman could take the place of the whole court."" ""You mustn't generalize,"" said the dissatisfied painter, ""I was only speaking of my experiences."" ""That's enough,"" said K., ""or are you assuming acquittals heard earlier?"" ""Such acquittals,"" replied the painter, ""are said to have existed. It's just very difficult to determine. The final decisions of the court are not published, they are not even available to the judges, as a result only legends have survived about old court cases. However, the majority of these even contain real acquittals, one can believe them, but they are not verifiable. Nevertheless, you don't have to neglect them entirely, they certainly contain a certain truth, and they're also very beautiful, I've painted a few pictures myself that have such legends as their content."" ""Legends alone don't change my opinion,"" said K., ""I suppose one can't invoke these legends in court either? "" The painter laughed. "" No, you can't,"" he said. ""Then it's useless to talk about it,"" said K., wanting to accept all of the painter's opinions for the time being, even if he considered them improbable and they contradicted other reports. He didn't have the time now to check the truth of everything the painter said, or even to refute it; it would be the utmost if he could persuade the painter to agree with him in any way, even if it wasn't decisive to help. That's why he said: ""Let's disregard the actual acquittal, but you mentioned two other possibilities. "" It can be about that alone,” said the painter. ' But don't you want to take off your coat before we talk about it? You must be hot.' ' Yes,' said K., who had previously paid no attention to anything but the painter's explanations, but now that he had been reminded of the heat, profuse perspiration broke out on his forehead. ""It's almost unbearable."" The painter nodded as if he understood K.'s discomfort very well. ""Couldn't you open the window? "" asked K. ""No,"" said the painter. ' It's just a fixed pane of glass, you can't open it.' K. now realized that he had been hoping all along that the painter or he would suddenly go to the window and tear it open. He was prepared to breathe in even the mist with his mouth open. The feeling of being completely cut off from the air here made him dizzy. He slapped his hand lightly on the quilt beside him and said in a weak voice, ""That's uncomfortable and unhealthy."" , even though it's just a single pane, heat is retained here better than through a double pane. But if I want to ventilate, which isn't very necessary because air gets in everywhere through the cracks in the beams, I can open one of my doors or even both.' K., somewhat comforted by this explanation, looked around to find the second door. The painter noticed that and said: ""It's behind you, I had to move it with the bed."" Only then did K. see the small door in the wall. "" Everything here is far too small for a studio,"" said the painter, as if he wanted to forestall a reprimand from K. ' I had to settle in as best I could. The bed in front of the door is of course in a very bad place. For example, the judge I'm painting now always comes through the door by the bed, and I also gave him a key from this door so that even if I'm not at home, he can wait for me here in the studio. Now he usually comes early in the morning while I'm still asleep. Of course, it always wakes me up from the deepest sleep when the door next to the bed opens. You would lose all respect for the judges to hear the curses I greet him with when he climbs over my bed early in the morning. I could take the key away from him, but that would only make things worse. All the doors here can be knocked off their hinges with the slightest effort.' Throughout this speech, K. considered taking off his coat, but finally realized that if he didn't, he wouldn't be able to, even here to stay longer, he therefore took off his coat, but laid it over his knees in order to be able to put it on again when the meeting was over. As soon as he took off his skirt, one of the girls called out, ""He's already taken off his skirt!"" and everyone could be heard crowding to the cracks to see the spectacle for themselves. "" The girls think,"" said the painter, ""that I'm going to paint you and that's why you're undressing."" ""So,"" said K., only slightly amused, because he didn't feel much better than before, although he now sat in shirt sleeves. Almost grumpily he asked, ""What did you call the other two possibilities?"" He had already forgotten the expressions. "" The apparent acquittal and the kidnapping,"" said the painter. “It's up to you what you choose from it. Both can be achieved with my help, of course not without effort, the difference in this respect is that the apparent acquittal requires a concentrated, temporary effort, while the delay requires a much lesser but lasting effort. So first the apparent acquittal. If you wish, I will write down a piece of paper confirming your innocence. The text for such a confirmation has been handed down to me by my father and is quite unassailable. With this confirmation, I now make a tour of the judges I know. So I'll start off by presenting the confirmation to the judge I'm painting now, when he comes to the session tonight. I'll show him the certificate, declare your innocence, and vouch for your innocence. But that's not just an external guarantee, it's a real, binding guarantee.' The painter's eyes looked like a reproach that K. wanted to impose such a guarantee on him. ""That would be very friendly,"" said K. ""And the judge would believe you and still not really acquit me?"" ""As I said,"" replied the painter. ' By the way, it's not at all certain that everyone would believe me, some judges will demand, for example, that I take you to him myself. Then you would have to come along. However, in such a case the matter is already half won, especially since I would of course inform you beforehand exactly how you are to behave before the judge in question. It's worse with the judges, who - that will also happen - reject me from the outset. We must do without this, even if I will certainly not fail to try several times, but we are allowed to do so, because individual judges cannot decide the matter here. If I now have a sufficient number of signatures from the judges on this confirmation, I will take this confirmation to the judge who is currently conducting your trial. I may also have his signature, then everything will develop a little more quickly than usual. In general, however, there are not many obstacles at all, it is then the time of the greatest confidence for the accused. It's strange but true, people are more confident at this time than after the acquittal. It doesn't require any special effort now. In the confirmation, the judge has the guarantee of a number of judges, can acquit you without any worries and will undoubtedly do so, after carrying out various formalities, for the benefit of me and other acquaintances. But you're leaving the court and you're free.' ' Then I'm free,' said K. hesitantly. ' Yes,' said the painter, 'but only apparently free or, to put it better, temporarily free. The lowest judges, to whom my acquaintances belong, do not have the right to finally acquit, only the highest court, which is completely inaccessible for you, for me and for all of us, has this right. We don't know what it looks like there and, by the way, we don't want to know either. So our judges do not have the great right to release from the charge, but they do have the right to release from the charge. That is, if you are acquitted in this way, you are absolved of the charge for the moment, but it still looms over you and can take immediate effect as soon as higher orders come. As I am in such good contact with the court, I can also tell you how in the regulations for the court records the difference between real and apparent acquittal shows itself purely externally. In the event of an actual acquittal, the trial files should be completely filed, they disappear entirely from the trial, not only the indictment, but also the trial and even the acquittal are destroyed, everything is destroyed. Unlike the apparent acquittal. No further change has taken place with the act other than the fact that it has been enriched by the confirmation of innocence, the acquittal and the justification for the acquittal. For the rest, however, he remains in the proceedings; he is passed on to the higher courts, as required by the uninterrupted traffic of the court offices, he returns to the lower courts and thus oscillates up and down with larger and smaller fluctuations, with larger and smaller delays. These paths are unpredictable. Seen from the outside, it can sometimes appear that everything is long forgotten, the act is lost and the acquittal is complete. An initiate will not believe this. No act is lost, there is no forgetting in court. One day - nobody expects it - some judge takes the case more carefully in his hands, realizes that the prosecution is still alive in this case, and orders the immediate arrest. I assumed here that a long time passed between the apparent acquittal and the new arrest, that's possible, and I know of such cases, but it's just as possible that the acquitted person comes home from the court and officers are already waiting there, to arrest him again. Then, of course, free life is over.' ' And the trial begins again?' asked K., almost incredulous. ' Indeed,' said the painter, 'the trial begins again, but there is again the possibility, as before, of obtaining an apparent acquittal. You have to gather all your strength again and not surrender.' The painter said the latter, perhaps under the impression that K., who had slumped a little, was making on him. ' But' asked K., as if he wanted to forestall any revelations by the painter, 'isn't it more difficult to obtain a second acquittal than the first one?' Do you mean that the judges will be influenced by the second arrest in their judgment in favor of the accused? That's not the case. The judges already provided for this arrest when they were acquitted. So this fact has little effect. However, for innumerable other reasons, the mood of the judges and their legal assessment of the case may have changed, and the efforts to obtain the second acquittal must therefore be adapted to the changed circumstances and generally be just as vigorous as those prior to the first acquittal.” ""But this second acquittal isn't final,"" said K., turning his head dismissively. “Of course not,” said the painter, “the second acquittal is followed by the third arrest, the third acquittal by the fourth arrest, and so on. That's in the very concept of apparent acquittal.' K. said nothing. ' The apparent acquittal doesn't seem to be to your advantage,' said the painter, 'perhaps deportation would suit you better. Do you want me to explain the essence of kidnapping to you?' K. nodded. The painter had leaned back in his armchair, his nightgown was wide open, he had slipped your hand under it, with which he stroked his chest and sides. ' The procrastination,' said the painter, looking straight ahead for a moment as if he were looking for a completely correct explanation, 'the protraction consists in the fact that the trial is kept at the lowest stage of the trial. In order to achieve this, it is necessary for the accused and the assistant, but especially the assistant, to remain in uninterrupted personal contact with the court. I repeat, this does not require as much effort as obtaining an apparent acquittal, but it does require far greater attention. One must not lose sight of the process, one must go to the judge in question at regular intervals and also on special occasions, and try in every way to keep him friendly; if one does not know the judge personally, one must allow known judges to influence him without giving up direct discussions. If nothing is neglected in this respect, one can assume with sufficient certainty that the trial will not progress beyond its first stage. The trial does not end, but the accused is almost as safe from conviction as if he were free. In contrast to an apparent acquittal, procrastination has the advantage that the future of the accused is less uncertain, he is spared the shock of sudden arrest and need not fear the exertion, perhaps at times when his other circumstances are the least favorable and having to endure the excitement associated with obtaining the apparent acquittal. However, kidnapping has certain disadvantages for the accused that should not be underestimated. I am not thinking here of the fact that the accused is never free here, he is not really that even when he is apparently acquitted. It's another disadvantage. The process cannot stand still without at least apparent reasons for it. Something must therefore happen outwardly in the process. So from time to time different arrangements have to be made, the accused has to be questioned, investigations have to take place and so on. The process must always be turned around in the small circle to which it has been artificially restricted. Of course, this entails certain inconveniences for the accused, but you shouldn't imagine them to be too bad. It's all just superficial, so the interrogations, for example, are very short, if you don't have the time or don't feel like going, you can apologize, you can even give orders to certain judges together for a long time in advance , it's really just a matter of reporting to your judge from time to time since you're a defendant.' Even as he was saying the last few words, K. had slung his coat over his arm and stood up. "" He's getting up!"" someone called immediately outside the door. ""You want to go already?"" asked the painter, who had also gotten up. ' It's certainly the air that drives you from here. It is very embarrassing. I still have a few things to say to you. I had to be very brief. But I hope I made it clear.” “Oh yes,” said K., whose head hurt from the effort he had made to listen. Despite this confirmation, the painter said, summarizing everything again, as if he wanted to give K. some consolation on the way home: ""Both methods have in common that they prevent the accused from being convicted."" ""But they also prevent the actual acquittal,"" said K. quietly, as if he was ashamed to have recognized it. ""You got the gist of it,"" said the painter quickly. K. put his hand on his winter coat, but couldn't even make up his mind to put it on. He would have loved to have packed everything up and gone out into the fresh air with it. The girls couldn't get him to get dressed either, although, prematurely, they called out to each other that he should get dressed. The painter was keen to somehow interpret K.'s mood, so he said: 'You haven't made up your mind about my suggestions. I approve. I would even have advised you not to decide immediately. The advantages and disadvantages are hair-thin. You have to estimate everything carefully. However, one mustn't lose too much time either.' ' I'll be back soon,' said K., who suddenly made up his mind to put on his coat, threw his coat over his shoulder and rushed to the door, behind which the girls were now beginning to scream. K. thought he could see the screaming girls through the door. ' But you have to keep your word,' said the painter, who hadn't followed him, 'or I'll come to the bank to ask myself.' ' Unlock the door,' said K. and pulled on the handle, the the girls, as he noticed from the counter-pressure, were kept outside. ""Do you want to be bothered by the girls? "" asked the painter. ""You'd better use this exit,"" and he pointed to the door behind the bed. K. agreed and jumped back to the bed. But instead of opening the door there, the painter crawled under the bed and asked from below: “Just a moment; Wouldn't you like to see another painting that I could sell you?' K. didn't want to be impolite, the painter had really taken care of him and promised to continue to help him, and as a result of K.'s forgetfulness about the payment for the help, he still hadn't hadn't been spoken to at all, so K. couldn't refuse him now and had the picture shown to him, even though he was trembling with impatience to get out of the studio. The painter pulled out a heap of unframed pictures from under the bed, which were so covered in dust that when the painter tried to blow it away from the top picture, it whirled in front of K.'s eyes for a long time, taking his breath away. "" A heathland,"" said the painter and handed the picture to K.. It represented two feeble trees standing far apart in the dark grass. In the background was a multicolored sunset. "" Nice,"" said K., ""I'll buy it. "" K. had thoughtlessly made such a brief comment, so he was glad when the painter, instead of taking offense, picked up a second picture from the floor. ""Here is a counterpart to this picture,"" said the painter. It might have been intended as a counterpart, but there wasn't the slightest difference from the first picture, here were the trees, here the grass, and there the sunset. But K. didn't care. ""They are beautiful landscapes,"" he said, ""I'll buy both of them and will hang them up in my office."" ""You seem to like the motif,"" said the painter and brought up a third picture I have another similar picture here.' But it wasn't similar, it was exactly the same heathland. The painter made good use of this opportunity to sell old paintings. ""I'll take this one too,"" said K. ""How much do the three paintings cost?"" ""We'll talk about that next,"" said the painter. ' You're in a hurry now and we'll keep in touch. Besides, I'm glad you like the pictures, I'll give you all the pictures I have down here. It's all heath landscapes, I've painted a lot of heath landscapes. Some people reject paintings like this because they're too somber, but others, and you're one of them, just love the sombre.' But K. now had no sense of the beggar painter's professional experience. "" Pack up all the paintings!"" he called, interrupting the painter's speech, ""my servant will come and fetch them tomorrow."" ""It's not necessary,"" said the painter. ""I hope I can get you a porter who will go with you in a moment."" And at last he bent over the bed and unlocked the door. ""Don't be afraid to climb onto the bed,"" said the painter, ""everyone who comes in here does the same. "" K. wouldn't have paid any heed if he hadn't been asked, he had even put one foot in the middle of the duvet, then he saw out through the open door and withdrew his foot again. "" What's that?"" he asked the painter. ""What are you amazed at?"" he asked, amazed in his own right. ' It's the court offices. Didn't you know there are court offices here? Court offices are in almost every attic, why should they be missing here? My studio is also actually one of the court offices, but the court made it available to me.” K. wasn't so shocked that he had found court offices here, he was mainly shocked at himself, at his ignorance of court matters. It seemed to him that a basic rule for the behavior of a defendant was always to be prepared, never to be taken by surprise, not to look to the right unsuspectingly when the judge was standing on his left - and it was precisely this basic rule that he repeatedly broke. In front of him stretched a long corridor, from which blew air that was refreshing compared to the air in the studio. Benches were set up on both sides of the aisle, just like in the waiting room of the office that was responsible for K.. There seemed to be precise regulations for the establishment of chanceries. At the moment there wasn't much party traffic here. A man sat there half lying down, his face buried in his arms on the bench, and seemed to be asleep; another stood in the semidarkness at the end of the aisle. They had clearly seen that the second door of the studio had been opened and had gone around to impose themselves on him from this side. K. staggered more than he walked, his handkerchief pressed over his mouth. They had nearly reached the exit when the girls stormed in on them, so K. had not been able to avoid them. K. now climbed over the bed, the painter followed him with the pictures. They soon came across a servant of the court—K. was now able to recognise all the servants of the court from the gold buttons they wore on their civilian clothes below the normal buttons—and the painter instructed him to go with K. carrying the pictures. ""I can't go with you anymore!"" the painter called out laughing under the rush of girls. "" Goodbye! And don't think too long!' K. didn't even look around at him. In the alley he took the first car that came his way. He was anxious to get rid of the servant whose gold button kept catching his eye, though probably no one else noticed. In his readiness to serve, the servant wanted to sit down on the coach box. But K. chased him down. It was long past noon when K. got to the bank. He would have liked to have left the paintings in the carriage, but he feared that at some point he would be forced to show them to the painter. He therefore had them taken to his office and locked them in the bottom drawer of his desk, in order to keep them safe from the looks of the deputy director for at least the next few days.","So that never happened, but it did sometimes happen that the case took a turn where the lawyer could no longer follow it.",0,0.99509466,1
+"lexical = 80, order = 20 Come, what do you think of our little plan about your curtain, Varinka? It is delightful, isn’t it? Whether I am sitting at work, or lying down for a nap, or waking up, I know that you are thinking about me over there, you are remembering me and that you are well and cheerf ul. You drop the curtain—it means “Good-bye, Makar Alexyevitch, it’s bedtime!” You draw it up—“Good morning, Makar Alexyevitch, how have you slept or are you quite well, Makar Alexyevitch? As for me, thank God, I am well and all right!” You see, my darling, what a clever idea; there is no need of letters! It’s cunning, isn’t it? And you know it was my idea. What do you say to me now, Varvara Alexyevna?","Besides, it’s pleasant from time to time to do oneself justice. Good-bye, my own, my darling, my kind comforter!",0,0.9950177,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 it makes the chills run over me when I think of it!” Oh, my stars! “Was there ever such an idea?” said Madame Magloire to herself, as she went backwards and forwards: “to take in a man like that, and to give him a bed beside him; and yet what a blessing it was that he did nothing but steal! ","Monsieur Madeleine’s dead. Père Madeleine! He’s in the coffin. And already lying in his grave. That’s the end of it. Now, is there any sense in such things? Oh, my God! He’s dead! And now what about the little girl, what am I going to do with her? What will the fruit-seller say?",0,0.9950177,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 They pinched him and mocked him during gymnastics; they pushed him into piles of shoveled snow when he tried to skate; they came storming across the swimming pool toward him, making menacing noises. But the main reason that Hanno avoided, if at all possible, going swimming, or ice-skating, or joining in gymnastics, was the fact that Consul Hagenström’s two sons, who participated in all such activities to great acclaim, had it in for him; and although they lived in his grandmother’s house, they never missed a chance to humiliate and bully him with their greater strength. Hanno did not try to escape—that would have been pointless in any case.","It was to make sure of enjoying all this some day in the future, that the kopecks were saved, and for a time stingily denied himself and to others. When a rich man dashed by him in a light elegant droshky drawn by richly-harnessed trotting horses, he would stand still as though rooted to the spot, and then as though waking from a long sleep, would say: “Why, he was a counting-house clerk and wore his hair cut like a peasant‘s!” And everything suggestive of wealth and prosperity made an impression upon him that he could not himself explain. On leaving school he did not even want to take a holiday, so strong was his desire to set to work at once and get into the service. In spite, however, of his high testimonials, it was with great difficulty that he succeeded in getting a berth in the Palace of Justice; even in the remotest corners powerful patronage is just as necessary! The job he obtained was a wretched one, the salary a miserable thirty or forty roubles a year.",0,0.9949397,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 He was an eccentric who seldom got to see anyone, and who lived on his small farm away from everyone else, busy raising chickens, dogs and vegetables: a tall man with top-boots, a green frieze jacket, a bald head, an enormous one with a graying beard, a riding crop in his hand, although he didn't own a horse at all, and a monocle tucked under his bushy brow. Apart from him and his son, there was no longer a Count Mölln in the country far and wide. The individual branches of the once rich, powerful and proud family had gradually withered, died and decayed, and only one aunt of little Kai, with whom his father did not correspond, was still alive. She published novels, written under a bizarre pseudonym, in various family magazines. - As far as Count Eberhard was concerned, it was remembered that, in order to protect himself from all disturbances through inquiries, offers and begging, he had kept a sign on his low front door for a long time after he had moved into the property in front of the castle gate, which read: ""Count Mölln lives here all by himself, doesn't need anything, doesn't buy anything and has nothing to give away. "" When the sign had had its effect and no one bothered him anymore, he had removed it again.",She published novels in family newspapers under an adventurous pseudonym.,1,0.11397346,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 I have been living like this for a long time now – about twenty years. I am forty. I once used to work in the government service but I don’t now. I was a bad civil servant. I was rude, and I enjoyed being rude. After all, I didn’t take bribes, so I had to have some compensation. (A poor witticism; but I won’t cross it out. I wrote it thinking it would come out very witty; but now, seeing for myself that I simply had a vile wish to swagger – I purposely won't cross it out!) He simply refused to submit and kept rattling his sabre disgustingly. But among the fops there was one officer I especially could not stand. I almost always managed. They were timid people for the most part: petitioners, you know. When petitioners would come for information to the desk where I sat – I'd gnash my teeth at them, and felt an inexhaustible delight when I managed to upset someone. I was at war with him over that sabre for a year and a half. I won in the end. He stopped making a clatter with it. This, however, was when I was still young. But do you know what was the real point of my bad temper? The main point, and the supreme nastiness, lay in the fact that even at my moments of greatest spleen, I was constantly and shamefully aware that not only was I not seething with fury , I was not even angry; I was simply scaring sparrows for my own amusement. I might be foaming at the mouth, but bring me some sort of toy to play with, or a nice sweet cup of tea, and I would calm down and even be stirred to the depths, although I would probably turn on myself afterwards, and suffer from insomnia for months. That was always my way.","So why have such disasters befallen me, in the name of God? After all, you consider me a worthy man, and you are immeasurably better than all of them, little mother. I mean, what is the greatest civic virtue? Yevstafy Ivanovich said the other day in a private conversation I had with him that the most important civic virtue is to know how to make a lot of money. He said, jokingly (I know he was joking), that moral education consists merely in learning how not to be a burden on anyone; and I’m not a burden on anyone! My crust of bread is my own; it’s true that it’s a plain crust of bread, at times even a dry one; but there it is, earned by my labours and consumed lawfully and unexceptionably. Well, what can one do?",0,0.99486035,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 You said you knew, and now suddenly you know nothing! You say 'very well; let's leave it so.' he added, noticing the prince’s impatient gesture,“ but I came for my own business and I want to ... explain about this. Well, no, don't be so gullible! Especially if you don't know anything. Perhaps you suspect this? .. Do you know what calculations these two persons, brother and sister, have? Well, well, I’ll leave it ... ” You are gullible because you don't know. What a nuisance it is that one cannot die without explanations! I have made such a quantity of them already. Do you wish to hear what I have to say?""","And therefore, if I now desire anything, it is only for your benefit. Judge for yourself; you don't trust me, do you? Moreover, you are a man ... a man ... in a word, a clever man, and I relied on you ... and this in the present case, this ... this ...",0,0.99486035,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 It cannot be said, however, that the nature of our hero was really so harsh and callous and that his feelings were so dulled that he knew neither pity nor compassion. He felt both the one and the other; he was even willing to help, but only if that help did not call for a great sum, only if it did not involve his having to touch that money which he had definitely proposed to leave untouched. In short, his father’s admonition, “Take care of each copper and save it,” had had its beneficial effect. But essentially he did not have any attachment for money qua money; meanness and miserliness had not taken possession of him. No, it was not these that motivated him; he envisaged ahead of him a life all of ease, with all manner of good things: carriages, an excellently built house, delectable dinners—these were the things that incessantly swarmed through his head. It was in order that he might ultimately and inevitably partake of all this later on, in due course of time, that every copper was saved, was stingily denied for the time being both to himself and to others. When some rich man whirled past him in a light, handsome droshky, drawn by thoroughbreds in rich harness, he’d stop as if he were rooted to the spot and then, upon coming to as if after a long sleep, would say: “ And yet that fellow was nothing but an office clerk and used to wear his hair bobbed like a peasant!” And everything that had an aura of riches and well-being made an impression upon him which he himself could not analyze. Upon getting out of school he did not want to take any time out, so strong was his desire to get down to business and to obtain a post as quickly as possible. However, despite the certificates cum laude he had received, it was only with great difficulty that he got into the Treasury Department—even in the tallest of the sticks one needs patronage! The place that fell to his lot was an insignificant one, the salary some thirty or forty rubles a year. But he resolved to buckle down fervidly to his work, to conquer and overcome everything. And he most certainly evinced unheard-of self-sacrifice, patience, and self-denial even in necessities. From early morn till late at night, with neither his spiritual nor his bodily forces flagging, he wrote on and on, plunged up to his ears in the chancellery papers; he did not go home but slept in the chancellery chambers upon the desks, dining at times with the chancellery watchmen, yet with all that was able to preserve his neatness, to dress decently, to impart a pleasing expression to his face and even a something that was genteel to his every movement. It must be said that the clerks in the Treasury were especially distinguished for their unprepossessing and unsightly appearance. Some had faces for all the world like badly baked bread: one cheek would be all puffed out to one side, the chin slanting off to the other, the upper lip blown up into a big blister that, to top it all off, had burst; in short, it wasn’t at all a pretty face to look at. They spoke, all of them, somehow dourly, in such a voice as if they were getting all set to slap somebody down; they offered frequent libations to Bacchus, thus demonstrating that there were still many vestiges of paganism in the Slavic nature; on occasion they even came to the office full to the gills, as they say, because of which the office was not any too fine a place and the air was not at all aromatic. Among such clerks Chichikov could not but be noticed and marked out, offering as he did a perfect contrast not only by the prepossessing appearance of his face but, as well, by the cordiality in his voice and his total abstinence from the use of strong spirits. Yet with all that his path was a hard and thorny one. It fell to his lot to have as his immediate superior a Registrar who had already grown old in the service, who was the personification of indescribably stony insensibility and imperturbability, everlastingly the same, unapproachable; a man who had never in his life shown a smile on his face, who had not even once greeted anybody with so much as an inquiry about his health. Nobody had ever seen him, even once, being anything else but what he always was—not even in the street, not even at home. If he had even once evinced any concern for anything, if he had even once got drunk and in his drunkenness broken into laughter, if he had even once given himself up to wild merrymaking, such as a brigand gives himself up to in a moment of drunkenness! But there was not as much as a shadow of anything even as human as that about him. There was just nothing at all in him, either of wickedness or of goodness, and there was a manifestation of something fearful in this absence of everything. His face, as hard as marble, without any sharp irregularity, did not hint at any resemblance to any other face; his features were in severe proportionality to one another. Only the numerous pockmarks and bumps thickly strewn over them made his face one of the number of those upon which, as the folk expression has it, the Devil comes at night to thresh peas. It looked as if it were beyond any human powers to get at this man and win his good graces, but Chichikov made the attempt. As a beginning he started catering to him in all sorts of imperceptible trifles: he examined closely the way he cut his quills and, having prepared several modeled after his, put them close to the Registrar ’s hand every time he needed a quill; he blew and brushed grains of blotting-sand and snuff off the Registrar’s desk; he dug up a new rag to clean the Registrar’s inkpot with; he would find the Registrar’s cap for him, wherever he may have put it (and a most abominable cap it was too—just about the most abominable the world had ever seen) and would always lay it near the Registrar just a minute before the office closed; he brushed off the Registrar’s back if the latter happened to soil it with whitewash off the wall. But all this remained absolutely without any notice, just as though nothing whatsoever had been done. Finally he got wind of the Registrar’s family life; he learned that the Registrar had a mature daughter, with a face that also looked as if peas were threshed on it at night. And before anyone in the office had time to blink, things got so arranged that Chichikov moved into his house, became a necessary and indispensable man, purchased the flour and the sugar, treated the daughter as his fiancée, called the department chief papa, and kissed his hand; everyone in the office decided that at the end of February, before the Great Lent, there would be a wedding.57 Learning what church she went to on Sundays, he would stand opposite her each time, in clean clothes, his shirtfront stiffly starched—and the thing proved a success: the stern department chief wavered and invited him to tea! In this, it seemed, the main purpose of his connection with the old department chief consisted, because he straightaway sent his trunk home in secret, and the next day was already settled in other quarters. The stern department chief even began soliciting the authorities, and in a short time Chichikov himself was installed as a department chief in a vacancy that had come open. It was from this side that he decided to mount his assault. He stopped calling the old Registrar dear papa and no longer kissed his hand; and as for the wedding, matters there somehow got lost in the shuffle, as though nothing at all had ever happened. Just the same, whenever he encountered the old Registrar, he would cordially shake his hand and invite him to tea, so that the old man, despite his eternal stoni ness and hard indifference, would shake his head every time and mutter under his breath: “He took me in, he took me in, the limb of Satan that he is!”","He returned into the town in the same manner as he had quitted it, by relating some nonsensical story to the national guards who were on duty at the Rome Gate. Then he made his way to the old quarter, where he crept from house to house in a mysterious manner. All the Republicans of advanced views, all the members of the brotherhood who had not followed the insurrectionary army, met in an obscure inn, where Macquart had made an appointment with them. When about fifty men were assembled, he made a speech, in which he spoke of personal vengeance that must be wreaked, of a victory that must be gained, and of a disgraceful yoke that must be thrown off. And he ended by undertaking to deliver the town-hall over to them in ten minutes.",0,0.99469805,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 ""Hello, gentlemen,"" said Panurge, ""hello, trestous. "" Are you doing very well? Thank God, and you? You are the right and timely comers. Let's go down. Hespailliers[1], hau, throw the pontal[2], approach this skiff. Will I still help you there? I am allouvi [3] and hungry to do well and work like four oxen. this is a fine Place, and these look like a very good People. — Children, do you want me still in any thing, do not spare the sweat of my Body, for godsake. Adam is man, born to plow and work, like a bird to fly. Our Lord wants, do you hear well? that we eat our bread in the sweat of our bodies, not doing nothing, like that cloak[4] of a monk that you see, Brother John, who drinks and dies of fear. Here is good weather. At this time do I know the answer of Anacharsis the noble philosopher to be true and well founded, when he, questioned which ship seemed to him the safest, replied: “The one that would be in port. »","And I am of the opinion that from now on, in all my Salmigondinois, when we want to execute some criminal for justice, a day or two before we make him splinter in onocrotal [8], so that in all his spermatic vases nothing remains of what protraire[9] a Greek Y. Something so precious must not be foolishly lost. By chance will he beget a man. Thus he will die without regret, leaving man for man. »",0,0.99453074,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 From among the ranks a bareback monkey suddenly leaped forth and cried aloud, “ If the Great King is so farsighted, it may well indicate the sprouting of his religious inclination. There are, among the five major divisions of all living creatures,13 only three species that are not subject to Yama, King of the Underworld.” The Monkey King said, “Do you know who they are?” The monkey said, “They are the Buddhas, the immortals, and the holy sages; these three alone can avoid the Wheel of Transmigration as well as the process of birth and destruction, and live as long as Heaven and Earth, the mountains and the streams.” The Monkey said, “In the world after death, in the ancient depths of the Eternal Mountain.” The king asked, “Where do they live?” When the Monkey King heard this, he was filled with delight, saying, “Tomorrow I shall take leave of you all and go down the mountain. Even if I have to wander with the clouds to the corners of the sea or journey to the distant edges of Heaven, I intend to find these three kinds of people. I will learn from them how to be young forever and escape the calamity inflicted by King Yama.” Lo, this utterance at once led him To leap free of the Transmigration Net, And be the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven. All the monkeys clapped their hands in acclamation, saying, “Wonderful! Wonderful! Tomorrow we shall scour the mountain ranges to gather plenty of fruits, so that we may send the Great King off with a great banquet.”","Our travellers picked some of them up, and they proved to be gold, emeralds, rubies and diamonds the least of which would have been the greatest ornament to the superb throne of the Great Mogul. “Without doubt,” said Cacambo, “those children who are playing quoits must be the king’s sons.”",0,0.9943581,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 “It is as well for you that you don’t, since, otherwise, you would have found yourself minus both gun and cap. However, friend Chichikov, it is a pity you were not there. Had you been there, I feel sure you would have found yourself unable to part with Lieutenant Kuvshinnikov. You and he would have hit it off splendidly. You know, he is quite a different sort from the Public Prosecutor and our other provincial skinflints—fellows who shiver in their shoes before they will spend a single kopeck. HE will play faro, or anything else, and at any time. Why did you not come with us, instead of wasting your time on cattle breeding or something of the sort? But never mind. Embrace me. I like you immensely. There, now, what is he to me, or I to him? He has come God knows whence, and I happen to be just a fellow living hereabouts.... I had a whirl at the roulette wheel, too, and won two jars of pomade, a porcelain cup, and a guitar; then I had one more go and, deuce take it, lost everything and six silver rubles on top of that. And how many carriages there were, brother, and all that en gros, on a grand scale. Look, Mizhuev, fate itself has brought us together! What a dog is that Kuvshinnikov! He and I attended nearly every ball in the place. In particular, there was a woman—decolletee, and such a swell! I merely thought to myself, ‘The devil take her!’ but Kuvshinnikov is such a wag that he sat down beside her, and began paying her strings of compliments in French. However, I did not neglect the damsels altogether—although HE calls that sort of thing ‘going in for strawberries.’ By the way, I have a splendid piece of fish and some caviare with me. ‘ Tis all I HAVE brought back! In fact it is a lucky chance that I happened to buy the stuff before my money was gone. Where are you for?”","As for the defendant, his tragedy is obvious, it is before us.",0,0.9943581,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 Fedora tells me that, if I like, certain people will be pleased to interest themselves in my position, and will get me a very good position as a governess in a family. What do you think about it, my friend—shall I go, or shall I not? Of course I should not then be a burden upon you, and the situation seems a good one; but, on the other hand, I feel somehow frightened at going into a strange house. They are people with an estate in the country. When they want to know all about me, when they begin asking questions, making inquiries—why, what should I say then?—besides , I am so shy and unsociable, I like to go on living in the corner I am used to. It’s better somehow where one is used to being; even though one spends half one’s time grieving, still it is better. Besides, it means leaving Petersburg; and God knows what my duties will be, either; perhaps they will simply make me look after the children, like a nurse. And they are such queer people, too; they’ve had three governesses already in two years. Do advise me, Makar Alexyevitch, whether to go or not. And why do you never come and see me? You hardly ever show your face, we scarcely ever meet except on Sundays at mass. What an unsociable person you are! You are as bad as I am! And you know I am almost a relation. You don’t love me, Makar Alexyevitch, and I am sometimes very sad all alone. Sometimes, especially when it is getting dark, one sits all alone. Fedora goes off somewhere, one sits and sits and thinks—one remembers all the past, joyful and sad alike —it all passes before one’s eyes, it all rises up as though out of a mist. Familiar faces appear (I am almost beginning to see them in reality)—I see mother most often of all ... And what dreams I have! I feel that I am not at all well, I am so weak; to-day, for instance, when I got out of bed this morning, I turned giddy; and I have such a horrid cough, too! I feel, I know, that I shall soon die. Who will bury me? Who will follow my coffin! Who will grieve for me! ... And perhaps I may have to die in a strange place, in a strange house! ... My goodness! how sad life is, Makar Alexyevitch. Why do you keep feeding me on sweetmeats? I really don’t know where you get so much money from? Ah, my friend, take care of your money, for God’s sake, take care of it. Fedora is selling the cloth rug I have embroidered; she is getting fifty paper roubles for it. That’s very good , I thought it would be less. I shall give Fedora three silver roubles, and shall get a new dress for myself, a plain one but warm. I shall make you a waistcoat , I shall make it myself, and I shall choose a good material.","What will happen to me! What else does fate have in store for me? For Christ's sake, come to me now, Makar Alekseevich.",0,0.9943581,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 I saw Fedora today, my dear. She says that you are being crowned tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow you are going, and that Mr. Bykov is already hiring horses. As for His Excellency, I have already informed you, mother. Moreover: I checked the invoices from the store in Gorokhovaya: everything is correct, but only very expensive. But why is Mr. Bykov angry with you? Well, be happy, mother! I am pleased to; Yes, I will be glad if you are happy. I would come to church, mother, but I can’t, my lower back hurts. So I'm all about letters: after all, now who will send them to us, mother? Yes! You did something good to Fyodor, my dear! This is a good deed you have done, my friend; you did it very well. Good deed! And for every good deed, the Lord will bless you. Good deeds do not go unrewarded, and virtue will always be crowned with the crown of God's justice, sooner or later. Matochka! I would like to write a lot to you, so, every hour, every minute I would write everything, I would write everything! I still have one book of yours left, ""Belkin's Tale"", so you know her, mother, do not take it from me, give it to me, my dear. It's not because I really want to read it. But you yourself know, mother, winter is coming; the evenings will be long; it will be sad, so that's what to read. I, mother, will move from my apartment to your old one and will hire from Fedora. I will never part with this honest woman now; Plus she's so hard working. I inspected your apartment, which was empty yesterday, in detail. There, as there were your hoops, and sewing on them, so they remained untouched: they are standing in the corner. I looked at your sewing. There are still some scraps left. You started winding threads on one of my letters. I found a piece of paper in the table, and on the piece of paper it was written: “Dear sir, Makar Alekseevich, I am in a hurry” - and nothing more. Apparently, someone interrupted you at the most interesting place. In the corner behind the screens is your bed ... My dear, you are mine !!! Well, goodbye, goodbye; for God's sake, answer me something to this letter as soon as possible.","He sent me a big box of chocolates for my name-day, that was very nice and attentive of him. I forgot to tell you about it when I wrote, and I only remember now that you ask me about it. Chocolate, as I am sure you are aware, disappears straight away in this lodging house, almost as soon as you know somebody has given you chocolate it is gone. But there is something else I wanted to tell you about Josef.",0,0.9943581,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 While I have been telling you these facts – which you have dismissed as a mere tale… – What about the man in livery playing the double-bass? Reader, I promise you on my word of honour that you won’t lose that story… but allow me to come back to Jacques and his master. Jacques and his master had arrived at the place where they were to spend the night. It was late. The gates of the town were closed and they were obliged to stop in the suburb. There I heard an uproar… – You heard? You weren’t there… - It is true. Jacques… his master… A terrible din is heard. I see two men… – There were two men at the table, talking quietly enough at the door of the room they occupied; a woman, her two fists at her sides, vomited a torrent of insults at them, and Jacques tried to appease this woman, who no more listened to her peaceful remonstrances than the two personages to whom she was addressing paid no attention to them. - It is true. Well ! You see nothing; it's not about you, you wasn't there. Jacques tried to calm the woman down but she paid no more attention to his pacifying remonstrations than the two people she was addressing were paying to her invective. ‘ Come along, my dear,’ said Jacques, ‘be patient. Calm down. What’s it all about? These gentlemen seem to be decent enough to me.’","They won’t waste much time even arguing about you. They’ll shovel in the dark-blue clay and go off to the pub…. That’ll be the end of your memory on the earth; other women have children to come to their graveside, and fathers and husbands – but there’ll be no tears or sighs or prayers for you, and nobody, nobody at all in the whole world will ever come to your grave: your name will vanish from the face of the earth – just as if you had never existed, never been born!",0,0.9942697,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 ‘That’s not quite what I said,’ he began, simply and modestly. ‘As a matter of fact, I admit it, you’ve stated it almost correctly; indeed, if you like, absolutely correctly…’ (He almost enjoyed accepting that it was absolutely correct.) ‘The only difference is that I don’t at all insist that extraordinary people are necessarily bound to commit all sorts of outrages all the time, as you put it. In fact I don’t think that such an article would have passed the censor. I merely suggested that an “extraordinary” person has the right—not the legal right, I mean, but the personal right, to allow his conscience to overstep… certain obstacles; and that only where the practical fulfilment of his idea (which might on occasion bring salvation for the whole human race) demands it. You were pleased to say that my article wasn’t clear; I’m prepared to do my best to clarify it for you. I may not be wrong in believing that you’d like me to do that. Very well. In my view, if circumstances had been such that Kepler’s and Newton’s discoveries* could not have become known to the world, otherwise than through the sacrifice of the lives of one, or ten, or a hundred or more people who were impeding those men’s discoveries or obstructing their work, then Newton would have had the right, indeed the duty… to eliminate those ten or a hundred people, in order to bring his discoveries to humanity at large. But it doesn’t at all follow that Newton had the right to kill people right and left, just as he liked, or to go stealing from the market every day. Furthermore, I seem to remember that in my article I explored the idea that all the… well, let’s say the lawgivers and leaders of men, in history, beginning from ancient times and going on by way of Lycurgus, Solon,* Mohammed, Napoleon, and so forth, were each and every one of them criminals, if only by virtue of the fact that in creating a new law they were ipso facto infringing an old one, held sacred by society and inherited from their forefathers; and of course these men didn’t hold back from shedding blood, so long as the shedding of blood served their purpose (for all that the blood was often guiltless, and was nobly shed in defence of the ancient laws). Indeed, it’s a remarkable fact that the majority of those benefactors and leaders of humanity were particularly bloodthirsty people. In a word, I deduce that all of them, not only the great ones but even those who ever so slightly diverged from the common run of humanity , I mean those who were just slightly capable of saying something new, must by their very nature be criminals—to a greater or lesser extent, of course. Without that, it would be difficult for them to stand out from the common herd; and of course they can’t consent to remain within the herd, yet again by virtue of their own nature. So they’re obliged not to accept things as they are. In short, you can see that up to this point there’s nothing particularly new. It’s been printed and read a thousand times over. As for my classification of people into ordinary and extraordinary, I grant that it’s fairly arbitrary, but after all I’m not insisting on exact figures. There are, of course, innumerable sub-divisions, but the distinguishing features of both categories are fairly well marked. But if such people are forced for the sake of their ideas to step over a corpse or wade through blood they can, I maintain, find within themselves, in their conscience, a justification for wading through blood—which, you should note, depends on the idea and its dimensions. To my thinking it is their duty to be controlled, because that’s their vocation, and there is nothing humiliating in it for them. I only believe in my leading idea that men are in general divided by a law of nature into two categories, inferior (ordinary), that is, so to say, material that serves only to reproduce its kind, and men who have the gift or the talent to produce something new. The second category transgresses the law; they are destroyers or disposed to destruction according to their capacities. The first category, generally speaking, contains men who are conservative in temperament and law-abiding; they live under control and love to be controlled. The crimes of these men are of course relative and varied; for the most part they seek in very varied ways the destruction of the present for the sake of the better. It’s only in that sense that my article talks about such people’s right to commit crimes. (Remember that our discussion started from the question of legality.) Anyway, there’s no need to be too alarmed : the masses hardly ever recognize the rights of those people, they execute them and hang them (more or less), thereby quite properly fulfilling their conservative destiny; although in succeeding generations this same mass will stand its victims on a pedestal and render homage to them (more or less). The first category is always master of the present, while the second is master of the future. The first preserves the world and increases its numbers, the second moves it forward towards its goal. Both categories have an absolutely equal right to exist. In short, as I see it, everyone possesses equal rights, and—vive la guerre éternelle!","‘Too hospitable?’ ‘Yes, sir. In the first place, he wants to come and live in my house; that would be all right, sir, but he’s too excitable, he wants to be one of the family right away.",0,0.9942697,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 Although none of his crimes could be specified, there was never a robbery or an assassination in the country without the first suspicion falling on him. And it was this ogre , this brigand, this beggar Macquart that Adelaide had chosen! Barely thirty years old, he looked fifty. Beneath the brushwood of his beard and the locks of his hair, which covered his face, like tufts of hair on a poodle, one could only make out the gleam of his brown eyes, the furtive and sad gaze of a man with wandering instincts, which wine and an outcast life have made evil. Tall, terribly bearded, thin-faced, Macquart was the terror of the good women of the faubourg; they accused him of eating little children raw.","He had lofty ambitions and domineering instincts, and was utterly contemptuous of modest ambitions and modest fortunes. He was proof that Plassans was perhaps not mistaken in suspecting that Félicité had some blue blood in her veins. The passion for self-gratification, which became so developed in the Rougons, and was, in fact, the main characteristic of the family, reached in his case one of its purest expressions; he longed for self-gratification, but in the form of the intellectual pleasure he would derive from the satisfaction of his passion for power. A man such as this was never meant to succeed in a provincial town. He vegetated in Plassans for fifteen years, his eyes turned towards Paris, on the lookout for opportunities. On his return home he had entered his name on the rolls* in order to be independent of his parents. He took on a case from time to time, earning a bare livelihood, without distinguishing himself in any way.",0,0.9941801,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 Rest is the first duty of citizenship, and impatience only harms. The rest can come later. As if stand still wasn't as good a command as stand still! So that you don't disappoint me, Castorp, and don't give the lie to my knowledge of human nature, I ask myself! And now off you go to the coach house!” It immediately struck me as if you were a better patient, with more talent for being sick than that brigadier general who always wants to leave when he's a few marks short. But I'll tell you right away: a case like yours doesn't heal from today to the day after tomorrow, and there are no signs of successful advertising or miracle cures. We take a nice inside view of you - you will enjoy gaining insight into yourself in this way.","What follows will follow. We’ll take a handsome x-ray of you—you’ll enjoy seeing what goes on in your own inside. But I tell you straightaway, a case like yours doesn’t get well from one day to the next: it isn’t a question of the miracle cures you read about in advertisements. I thought when I first clapped eyes on you that you would be a better patient than your cousin, with more talent for illness than our brigadiergeneral here, who wants to clear out directly he has a couple of points less fever. As if ‘lie down’ isn’t just as good a word of command as ‘stand up’! It is the citizen’s first duty to be calm, and impatience never did any good to anyone. Now, Castorp, watch out you don’t disappoint me and give the lie to my knowledge of human nature! Get along now, into the caboose with you—march!”",1,0.11476479,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 ‘That’s not quite what I said,’ he began, simply and modestly. ‘As a matter of fact, I admit it, you’ve stated it almost correctly; indeed, if you like, absolutely correctly…’ (He almost enjoyed accepting that it was absolutely correct.) ‘The only difference is that I don’t at all insist that extraordinary people are necessarily bound to commit all sorts of outrages all the time, as you put it. In fact I don’t think that such an article would have passed the censor. I merely suggested that an “extraordinary” person has the right—not the legal right, I mean, but the personal right, to allow his conscience to overstep… certain obstacles; and that only where the practical fulfilment of his idea (which might on occasion bring salvation for the whole human race) demands it. You were pleased to say that my article wasn’t clear; I’m prepared to do my best to clarify it for you. I may not be wrong in believing that you’d like me to do that. Very well. In my view, if circumstances had been such that Kepler’s and Newton’s discoveries* could not have become known to the world, otherwise than through the sacrifice of the lives of one, or ten, or a hundred or more people who were impeding those men’s discoveries or obstructing their work, then Newton would have had the right, indeed the duty… to eliminate those ten or a hundred people, in order to bring his discoveries to humanity at large. But it doesn’t at all follow that Newton had the right to kill people right and left, just as he liked, or to go stealing from the market every day. In a word, I deduce that everyone, not only great, but also a little bit out of the rut, that is, even a little bit capable of saying something new, must, by their nature, be sure to be criminals - more or less, of course. Further, I remember, I develop in my article that all ... well, for example, even though the legislators and establishers of mankind, starting with the most ancient, continuing with the Lycurgs, Solons, Mohammeds, [42] Napoleons and so on, every one and every one were criminals, already those who, by giving a new law, thereby violated the ancient one, sacredly revered by society and passed from the fathers, and, of course, did not stop at blood, if only blood (sometimes completely innocent and valiantly shed for the ancient law) could help them . It is even remarkable that most of these benefactors and founders of mankind were especially terrible bloodsheders. Without that, it would be difficult for them to stand out from the common herd; and of course they can’t consent to remain within the herd, yet again by virtue of their own nature. So they’re obliged not to accept things as they are. In short, you can see that up to this point there’s nothing particularly new. It’s been printed and read a thousand times over. As for my classification of people into ordinary and extraordinary, I grant that it’s fairly arbitrary, but after all I’m not insisting on exact figures. I merely believe in my central idea, which is that people, according to a law of nature, are generally divided into two categories: a lower one (ordinary people), which represents a material that serves solely to reproduce its own likeness; and real men, those who possess the gift or talent of saying something new in their own milieu. There are, of course, infinite numbers of possible subdivisions; but the distinctive features of the two categories are fairly well marked. The first category, that is to say the material, in general terms, consists of people who by their nature are conservative, orderly, live obedient lives and enjoy being obedient. In my opinion they’re actually compelled to obey because that’s their destiny, and there’s nothing in the least degrading for them in that. In the second category everyone breaks the law, they’re all destroyers or inclined to be destructive, depending on their capabilities. The crimes committed by these people are of course relative and very varied; most of them seek, in a wide variety of situations, to destroy what exists in the name of something better. But if, for the sake of his ideas, such a man has to step over a corpse or wade through blood, then I think he may, subject to his own conscience, permit himself to wade through blood—depending of course on the nature and magnitude of his idea; note that. It’s only in that sense that my article talks about such people’s right to commit crimes. (Remember that our discussion started from the question of legality.) Anyway, there’s no need to be too alarmed : the masses hardly ever recognize the rights of those people, they execute them and hang them (more or less), thereby quite properly fulfilling their conservative destiny; although in succeeding generations this same mass will stand its victims on a pedestal and render homage to them (more or less). The first category is always master of the present, while the second is master of the future. The first preserves the world and increases its numbers, the second moves it forward towards its goal. Both categories have an absolutely equal right to exist. In short, as I see it, everyone possesses equal rights, and—vive la guerre éternelle!","‘All instances of inappropriate conduct occurring at this school, be they committed by students or by instructors, are manifestations of a lack of virtue on my part. Whenever such an incident is reported, the sense of shame that I endure compels me to look deep within myself and question my own worthiness as a Principal. Unfortunately, gentlemen, I must come before you once again to humbly offer my profound apologies on account of yet another such disturbance.",0,0.994089,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 “Wait! Hear the end of it! Of course, they set off as fast as possible to find Mikolai. They detained Dushkin and searched his place, Mitrei’s, too; they scoured the men in Kolomna as well—suddenly, two days ago, they bring in Mikolai himself: he’d been detained near the gate of an inn. He’d arrived there, removed his cross, a silver one, and asked for a glass of vodka in exchange. They gave it to him. After waiting a few minutes, the old woman went into the cowshed and peeked through the crack. In the barn next door he’d fastened his sash to a beam, made a noose, then he stood on a stump and was trying to put the noose around his neck. The old woman shrieked at the top of her lungs and they came running: ‘So, that’s what you are!’ ‘Take me,’ he says, ‘to such and such a police station; I’ll admit to everything.’ Well, they took him to the police station, the one here, that is, with all the appropriate honors. Then it was this, that, who, how, how old—‘twenty-two’—so on and so forth. ‘I never knew a thing about it. ‘We heard nothing special.’ The first I heard of it was from Afanasy Pavlovich the day before yesterday. ’ To the question, ‘When you were working with Dmitri, didn’t you see anyone on the staircase at such-and-such a time?’—his reply was: ‘Sure, folks may have gone up and down, but I didn’t notice them.’ ‘I found them on the pavement.’ ‘And where did you find the earrings?’ ‘And didn’t you hear anything, any noise, and so on?’ ‘And did you hear, Nikolai, that on the same day Widow So-and-so and her sister were murdered and robbed?’ ‘Why didn’t you come to work with Mitrei the next day?’ ‘I was on a spree.’ ‘Where was that?’ ‘Here and there.’ ‘Why did you run away from Dushkin?’ ‘’Cause I was very afraid.’ ‘ Afraid of what?’ ‘They’d think I done it.’ ‘How could you be afraid when you yourself felt you were not guilty?’ Well, Zosimov, believe it or not, that question was posed, in those exact words. I know it for a fact. They told me so. How do you like that?”",There’s a Crimean restaurant just opened up in Pushkino called the ‘Yalta.’ That solves everything!,0,0.9939964,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 It was only about half an hour after this that we were called to dinner. As I passed Ojosan’s door on my way to the dining room , I saw the ladies’ going-out dresses lying in colorful disarray on the floor. They had apparently hurried home so that they might prepare our dinner. Okusan’s kindness, however, was wasted on us. During the meal, I behaved as though words were too precious a commodity to squander, and I was very brusque with the ladies. K was even more taciturn than I was. The ladies on the other hand, having returned from a rare outing, were unusually gay, which made our gloomy behavior all the more noticeable in contrast. Okusan asked me if anything was wrong. I told her that I was not feeling well. And I was being quite truthful, I assure you. Then Ojosan asked K the same question. she demanded. K. He gave a different reply. He simply said he didn’t feel like talking. Anyone who did not know him would judge that he was lost for an answer. Why not? On a sudden impulse, I raised my reluctant eyes to his face, curious to know how he would respond. K’s lips were trembling in that way he had. Ojosan laughed, and said that he must have been thinking about something very profound. K blushed slightly.","Some of the party looked distinctly sheepish; they had slunk out into another room and sat down to wait; others accepted the invitation, but settled away from the table, occupying corner seats mostly so as not to be conspicuous. There the spirits of some of them revived rather more quickly than could have been expected. Rogozhin sat down on the chair that was offered to him, but not for long; he soon rose to his feet and did not sit down again. Little by little he began to distinguish and scrutinize the guests. Having spotted Ganya, he smiled wryly and whispered to himself, “ Well I never!”",0,0.9939964,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 You are glad, mother, that God has sent you a chance, in turn, to serve good for good and thank me. I believe this, Varenka, and I believe in the kindness of your angelic heart, and I’m not speaking as a reproach to you - just don’t reproach me, as you did then, that I was winded up in my old age. Well, it was such a sin, what to do! - if you really want to be sure that there is a sin here; only from you, my friend, it costs me a lot to listen to this! Don't be angry with me for saying this; in my chest, mother, everything is tired. Poor people are capricious - that's just how it is by nature. I felt it before, but now I feel it even more. He, a poor man, he is exacting; he also looks at the light of God differently, and looks askance at every passer-by, but looks around him with an embarrassed look, and listens to every word, - they say, is there something they say about him? What, they say, why is he so unsightly? what exactly would he feel? what, for example, what will it be like from this side, what will it be like from that side? And everyone knows, Varenka, that a poor man is worse than a rag and cannot get any respect from anyone, whatever you say! they are, these bastards, whatever you write there! - everything will be in the poor man as it was. And why will it continue to be so? And because a poor person, in their opinion, should have everything inside out; that he should not have anything cherished, there are ambitions of some no-no-no! Vaughn Emelya said the other day that they made him a subscription somewhere, so for every dime, in some way, they did an official inspection for him. They thought that they were giving him their kopecks for free - but no: they paid for showing them a poor man. Today, mother, good deeds are somehow miraculously done ... or maybe they have always been done that way, who knows! Either they do not know how to do it, or the masters are great - one of the two. You may not have known this, well, here you are! In what other way do we pass, and in this we are known! And why does a poor person know all this and think all this? And why? Well, from experience! And because, for example, he knows that there is such a gentleman at his side that he is going somewhere to a restaurant and talking to himself: what, they say, this bare official is going to eat today? and I will eat saute papillot, and he, perhaps, will eat porridge without butter. And what does it matter to him that I will eat porridge without butter? Sometimes there is such a person, Varenka, sometimes he only thinks about such things. And they walk around, libelous indecent, but they look that, they say, whether you step on a stone with your whole foot or with one toe; something about such and such an official, such and such a department, a titular adviser, bare fingers sticking out of his boot, that his elbows were torn through - and then they describe it all to themselves and print such rubbish ... And what do you care that Are my elbows torn? Yes, if you will forgive me, Varenka, a rude word, then I will tell you that a poor person has the same shame on this score as you have, by example, girlish. After all, you will not begin to expose yourself in front of everyone - forgive my rude word; just like that, and the poor man does not like to be looked into his kennel, that, they say, what kind of family relations there will be - here. And the fact that it was then to offend me, Varenka, is coupled with my enemies, encroaching on the honor and ambition of an honest man!","Everything turns red when you talk to him, he gets confused and does not know what to answer. A little girl, a daughter, is standing leaning against a coffin, but such a poor thing, boring, thoughtful!",0,0.99390244,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 40 The reader must have noticed by now, I think, that Chichikov, despite his amiable air, was nevertheless much more free and easy of speech with her than he had been with Manilov and did not at all stand on ceremony. It must be said that if we Russians haven’t yet caught up in a thing or two with the natives of other lands, we have on the other hand got far ahead of them in social behavior. There’s no enumerating all the shades and refinements of our behavior. The Frenchman or the German could never in a lifetime either surmise or comprehend all its peculiarities and nuances; he will use almost the same tone and the same language in speaking both with the moneybags worth millions and the man who keeps a tiny tobacco shop, even though in soul he will, of course, crawl and cringe and fawn enough before the former. But that’s not the way we do things: we have men so wise and adroit that they will speak to a landowner possessing but two hundred serf-souls in a way altogether different from that in which they will to one who possesses three hundred of them; while to him who possesses three hundred of them they will again speak not in the same way as they would with him that has five hundred souls; while with him that has five hundred souls the manner of their speech will again differ from that used with him that has eight hundred; in brief, even if you were to go up to a million, you would find different shadings for each category. Let’s suppose, for instance, that there is a certain chancellery in existence— oh, not here, but in some Never-Never Land; and in this chancellery, let’s suppose, there exists a Director of the Chancellery. I ask you to have a look at him as he sits there among his subordinates—why, out of awe you simply wouldn’t be able to let a peep out of you. Yet no sooner will the eagle have left the room to seek the study of his superior officer than he will go scurrying along (papers held close to his nose) like any partridge. Also, were you to sketch him, you would be sketching a veritable Prometheus, for his glance is as that of an eagle, and he walks with measured, stately stride. Sheer nervousness will prevent you from uttering a word in his presence, so great are the pride and superiority depicted on his countenance. In society or at some evening-at-home, provided that all those present are not so very high in rank, Prometheus will even remain Prometheus to the very end; but let there be present someone ever so little above him, such a transformation will overtake our Prometheus as even Ovid himself could never think of: he’s a fly, even smaller than any fly; he has been transmogrified into a grain of sand; “Why, this just can’t be our Ivan Petrovich!” you say to yourself as you look at him. “Ivan Petrovich is ever so tall, while this is not only such a squat little fellow but such a thin one, too; the other one speaks loudly, booming away in his bass and with never a laugh out of him, whereas the Devil alone knows what this one is up to: he peeps like a bird and keeps on laughing with never a stop.” You walk up nearer and take a closer look—and sure enough, if it isn’t Ivan Petrovich! “Oho, ho, ho!” you think to yourself.... However, let us get back to the actors in our drama. Chichikov, as we have already seen, had decided not to stand on any ceremony whatsoever, and therefore, picking up his cup and lacing his tea with the fruit brandy, led off with: “That’s a fine hamlet you’ve got, mother.","I hope that in the preceding chapters I have set forth my ideas well enough to give the reader food for thought and enable him to make discoveries of his own in this luminous realm. He could not help but be pleased with himself should he succeed one day in making his soul travel all by herself; the delights that this ability will bring to him will more than outweigh the misunderstandings that might result from it. Indeed, could there be any joy more gratifying than that of thus stretching one’s existence, of inhabiting the earth and the heavens at once, of doubling, as it were, one ’s being?—Is it not man’s eternal and forever unfulfilled wish to increase his power and abilities, to be where he is not, to recall the past and to live in the future?",0,0.99371004,1
+"lexical = 80, order = 60 He began angrily: “What is this you have done, sir? Why are you not more careful? The document was wanted in a hurry, and you have gone and spoiled it. What do you think of it?”—the last being addressed to Evstafi Ivanovitch. More I did not hear, except for some flying exclamations of “What negligence and carelessness! How awkward this is!” and so on. I opened my mouth to say something or other; I tried to beg pardon, but could not. To attempt to leave the room, I had not the hardihood. Then there happened something the recollection of which causes the pen to tremble in my hand with shame. A button of mine—the devil take it!—a button of mine that was hanging by a single thread suddenly broke off, and hopped and skipped and rattled and rolled until it had reached the feet of his Excellency himself— this amid a profound general silence! THAT was what came of my intended self-justification and plea for mercy! THAT was the only answer that I had to return to my chief! The sequel I shudder to relate. At once his Excellency’s attention became drawn to my figure and costume. I remembered what I had seen in the mirror, and hastened to pursue the button. Obstinacy of a sort seized upon me, and I did my best to arrest the thing, but it slipped away, and kept turning over and over, so that I could not grasp it, and made a sad spectacle of myself with my awkwardness. Then there came over me a feeling that my last remaining strength was about to leave me, and that all, all was lost—reputation, manhood, everything! In both ears I seemed to hear the voices of Theresa and Phaldoni. At length, however, I grasped the button, and, raising and straightening myself, stood humbly with clasped hands—looking a veritable fool! But no. First of all I tried to attach the button to the ragged threads, and smiled each time that it broke away from them, and smiled again. In the beginning his Excellency had turned away, but now he threw me another glance, and I heard him say to Evstafi Ivanovitch: “What on earth is the matter with the fellow? Look at the figure he cuts! Who to God is he?” Ah, beloved, only to hear that, “Who to God is he?” Truly I had made myself a marked man! In reply to his Excellency Evstafi murmured: “He is no one of any note, though his character is good. Besides, his salary is sufficient as the scale goes.” “Very well, then; but help him out of his difficulties somehow,” said his Excellency. “Give him a trifle of salary in advance.” “It is all forestalled,” was the reply. “He drew it some time ago. But his record is good. There is nothing against him.” At this I felt as though I were in Hell fire. I could actually have died! “Well, well,” said his Excellency, “let him copy out the document a second time. Dievushkin, come here. You are to make another copy of this paper, and to make it as quickly as possible.” With that he turned to some other officials present, issued to them a few orders, and the company dispersed. No sooner had they done so than his Excellency hurriedly pulled out a pocket-book, took thence a note for a hundred roubles, and, with the words, “Take this. It is as much as I can afford. Treat it as you like,” placed the money in my hand! At this, dearest, I started and trembled, for I was moved to my very soul. What next I did I hardly know, except that I know that I seized his Excellency by the hand. But he only grew very red, and then— no, I am not departing by a hair’s-breadth from the truth—it is true—that he took this unworthy hand in his, and shook it! Yes, he took this hand of mine in his, and shook it, as though I had been his equal, as though I had been a general like himself! “Go now,” he said. “This is all that I can do for you. Make no further mistakes, and I will overlook your fault.”","“I’m to blame … most of all! Lebedev, here’s the key” (he took out his wallet and from it a steel ring with three or four little keys on it), “this one, the next to last … Kolya will show you … Kolya! Where’s Kolya?”",0,0.99371004,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 20 To live out the remnant of my days in comfort, to leave something to my wife and the children whom I had intended to have for the welfare, for the service of my country. Am I a robber? By toil and sweat, by bloody sweat I have made my hard-earned kopecks. What have I made my money for? Have I made any one unhappy? But what is such a fearful punishment for, Afanasy Vassilyevitch!","Our family is worth ten thousand strings of cash, and we own fifteen thousand acres of good arable land. We were not fated to be given sons, and we only had three daughters. The year before last I suffered the great misfortune of losing my husband. I have remained a widow, and this year I have come out of mourning. There are no other relations to inherit the family estate besides myself and my daughters. I would like to remarry, but not at the price of abandoning the estate.",0,0.99361163,1
+"lexical = 100, order = 100 What is it?""",What is the dear fellow doing now? Whom is he walking over?,0,0.99341017,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 But when the son accepts, it happened, the father is good, then the old man does not hear himself for joy. Pleasure was visible in his face, in his gestures, in his movements. If his son spoke to him, the old man always rose a little from his chair and answered quietly, obsequiously, almost reverently, and always trying to use the most selective, that is, the most ridiculous expressions. But the gift of speech was not given to him: he always gets confused and shy, so that he does not know where to put his hands, where to put himself, and after a long time he whispers the answer to himself, as if wanting to get better. If he managed to answer well, then the old man would preen, straighten his waistcoat, tie, tailcoat and take on the appearance of his own dignity. And it happened that he would be so emboldened, would stretch his courage so much that he quietly got up from his chair, approached a shelf with books, took some book and even immediately read something, no matter what the book was. He did all this with an air of feigned indifference and composure, as if he could always manage his son's books in such a way, as if he were not unusual in his son's caress. But I once happened to see how frightened the poor man was when Pokrovsky asked him not to touch the books. He was confused, hurried, put the book upside down, then wanted to get better, turned it over and put it with the sawn-off side out, smiled, blushed and did not know how to make amends for his crime. With his advice, Pokrovsky gradually weaned the old man from bad inclinations, and as soon as he saw him three times in a row in a sober state, then at the first visit he gave him a quarter, fifty dollars or more as parting. Sometimes I bought him boots, a tie or a vest. But the old man in his renovation was proud as a rooster. Sometimes he visited us. He brought me and Sasha gingerbread cockerels, apples, and everything used to talk with us about Petenka. He asked us to study carefully, to obey, he said that Petenka was a good son, an exemplary son, and, in addition, a learned son. Here he used to wink at us with his left eye in such a funny way, he grimaced so funny that we could not help laughing and laughed at him heartily. Mom loved him very much. But the old man hated Anna Feodorovna, although he was quieter than water before her, lower than grass.",He used to bring Sasha and me gingerbread cocks and apples and always talked to us of Petinka.,1,0.115560874,0
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 “I knew it, I didn’t expect less from you.” He will love you, because he must, must; he must love you! Varvara Petrovna squealed in a particularly irritating tone. “And besides, he will fall in love with you without duty, I know him. Besides, I'll be here myself. Don't worry, I'll always be here. He will complain about you, he will begin to slander you, he will whisper about you with the first person he meets, he will whine, whine forever; He will write letters to you from one room to another, two letters a day, but he still cannot live without you, and this is the main thing. Make obey; if you can't force it, you'll be a fool. He wants to hang himself, he will threaten - do not believe; only nonsense! Do not believe, but still keep your ears open, the hour is uneven and he hangs himself: it happens with such things; they hang themselves not from strength, but from weakness; therefore, never bring it to the last line - and this is the first rule in marriage. Remember, too, that he is a poet. Listen, Daria: there is no higher happiness than to sacrifice yourself. And besides, you will give me great pleasure, and this is the main thing. I'm not forcing you; it's all your will; as you say, so it shall be. Don't think I'm just blathering out of foolishness; I understand what I'm saying. I am an egoist, and you be an egoist, too. Well, why are you sitting there? Say something!"" ","Don't think that I'm foolish now crazy; I understand what I'm saying. I'm selfish, be selfish too. I'm not bondage; everything is in your will, as you say, so be it. Well, sit down, say something!",1,0.115560874,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 But, in the midst of this prosperity, M. Valenod needed to reassure himself, by small insolences of detail against the gross truths which he felt that everyone had the right to address to him. His activity had redoubled since the fears left in him by M. Appert's visit; he had made three trips to Besançon; he wrote several letters each post; he sent others by strangers who passed by his house at nightfall. He had perhaps been wrong to have the old Curé Chelan dismissed; for this vindictive step had caused him to be regarded by several devotees of good birth as a profoundly wicked man. His political standing had reached this point when, indulging his personal pleasure, he wrote an anonymous letter. In addition, the clerical assistance rendered him, in this matter, left him absolutely dependent on the vicar-general, Monsieur de Frilair, and he’d already been asked to do some strange things. To add to his embarrassment, his wife told him that she wanted to have Julien at home; his vanity was covered with it.","Thus, when the King of Prussia, after having restored Louis XVIII, came to visit him under the name of Count de Ruppin, he was received by the descendant of Louis XIV somewhat like Marquis of Brandenburg and with the most delicate impertinence. M. Gillenormand approved.",0,0.9930962,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 60 But now he has been caught by our Tathagata, the Buddha:",We have described the catastrophe of the road of Ohain.,0,0.99298817,1
+"lexical = 0, order = 0 Never could he rid himself of a longing to spend his days in lying upon the stove (even as the favourite of the legend had done), and to be dressed in ready-made, unearned clothes, and to eat at the expense of a benevolent witch. that folk there went for walks, and were free from sorrow and care.","You didn’t mix up who and which in it, did you? And you found excellent note-paper and ink from the English shop, and your handwriting, too, was legible, wasn’t it?’",1,0.11596072,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 They say that his mother was very pretty, and it seems strange to me why she married so unsuccessfully, for such an insignificant person ... She died at a young age, four years after her marriage. So Anna Fedorovna told me all this; the student Pokrovsky himself never liked to talk about his family circumstances.","‘You’ve told us a lot of interesting things about my brother’s character, and… you told them impartially. That’s good —I thought you were in awe of him,’ remarked Avdotya Romanovna with a smile. ‘ And maybe it’s true, too, that he needs a woman by him,’ she added thoughtfully.",0,0.9928786,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 Apollon Apollonovich Ableukhov—a mousy-grey lump—cast his eyes about him nervously; breathing heavily, he started climbing down as best he could, grunting, leaning his hairy chest, his shoulder and his stubbly chin against the steps of the stepladder; down he came—and off he pattered with little steps in the direction of the staircase with a grubby duster in his hand and the flaps of his dressing gown wide open and sticking out in the air at a fantastic angle. Right under the ceiling in the greenish light of the Petersburg morning","He had at first tried, in a quiet way and without much outward movement, to break his bonds. His eye had been seen to light up, his muscles to stiffen, his members to concentrate their force, and the straps to stretch. The effort was powerful, prodigious, desperate; but the provost's seasoned bonds resisted.",0,0.9927672,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 100 In our house, Varenka, the noise begins very early in the morning: the noise of people getting out of bed, walking about, knocking on doors – all who have to are bestirring themselves, in order to go to work or to engage in their own business; everyone sets about having morning tea. Our samovars are for the most part owned by the landlady; there are not enough of them, so we all use them by turn; and woe betide anyone who takes his teapot out of turn! I did that the first time, and… but why write about it? I got to know everyone here at the same time. The warrant-officer was the first person whose acqaintance I made; he is an open fellow, and he told me everything about himself: his father, his mother, his sister, who is married to an assessor in Tula,* and about the town of Kronstadt. He promised to take me under his wing and invited me to have tea with him right then and there. I found him in the room where the people in our house usually play cards. There I was served with tea and those present insisted that I should gamble with them. Whether they were laughing at me or not, I don’t know; all I know is that they themselves had been playing all night, and when I went in they were still at it. I saw chalk, and cards; there was so much smoke in the room that it stung one’s eyes. I said I didn’t want to take part, and they at once observed that I was talking philosophy. After that no one talked to me at all; of which I was truly glad. I shall not go and see them now; all they do is gamble, nothing but gamble! The government clerk who works in the literary department also holds gatherings in the evenings. Yes, and they are pleasant and modest, innocent and delicate; it is all on a refined footing.","In fact, I have no intention of going there again, since every one is for gambling, and for nothing but gambling. Even the literary tchinovnik gives such parties in his room—though, in his case, everything is done delicately and with a certain refinement, so that the thing has something of a retiring and innocent air.",0,0.9927672,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 Fedora says that if I am willing, there are certain people who will be pleased to take an active interest in my position, and will obtain for me a very good post as governess in a certain house. What do you think, my friend – should I accept or not? Of course, I should not then be a burden on you any longer, and the post does seem to be an advantageous one; on the other hand, though, I do not feel good about entering a house of people whom I do not know. They are some kind of country landowners. If they start trying to find out about me, asking me questions, probing me – what shall I say? Then again, I’m so shy and unsociable; I like to go on living for a long time in the same familiar corner. It’s somehow better living in the place one’s used to: even though one’s miserable half the time, it’s still better. The place is in the country, what’s more; and heaven only knows what sort of duties I will have; perhaps they’ll just make me look after the children. And they’re such people, too: they’ve had three governesses in two years. For the love of God, tell me what you think, Makar Alekseyevich, should I accept or not? And why do you never visit me? It’s so seldom that you show your face. We hardly ever see each other except in church on Sundays. What an unsociable fellow you are! You’re just like I am. I’m nearly a relation of yours, you know. You don’t love me, Makar Alekseyevich, and I sometimes get very sad on my own. At times, especially when it’s getting dark, I find myself sitting alone as alone can be. Fedora will have gone off somewhere. I sit and think andthink – I remember all the old times, the joyful ones and the sad ones, and they all pass before my eyes, flickering as through a mist. Familiar faces appear (I almost begin to see them for real), and it is Mother whom I see most frequently… And what dreams I have! I have a feeling that my health is not as good as it should be; I am so weak; this morning, for example, when I got out of bed, I started to feel peculiar; on top of that I have such a bad cough! I feel – indeed I know – that I shall die soon. Will anyone give me a funeral? Will anyone walk behind my coffin? Will anyone miss me?… And now, perhaps, I shall have to the in a strange place, in an alien corner of someone else’s house… O my God, how sad life is, Makar Alekseyevich! Why do you keep stuffing me with sweets, my friend? I really don’t know where you get all the money from. Oh, my friend, look after your money, for God’s sake look after it. Fedora is selling the rug I have made; she can get fifty paper rubles for it. That’s very good ; I had thought it would be less. I shall give Fedora three silver rubles and make myself a new dress – a simple, warm one. I shall make you a waistcoat, I shall make it myself, and shall choose a good material for it.","I am old , they say; It's amazing how young I feel. I would like to go and listen to bagpipes in the woods.",0,0.9927672,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 I spent a long time, almost eight years, at the Petersburg Cadet Corps School, and my new environment stifled many of my childhood impressions, although I forgot nothing. I picked up enough new habits and even new opinions there to turn me into a cruel, absurd, almost wild creature. While I acquired a varnish of good manners and some French, I also learned to look upon the soldiers who waited on us at the school as cattle. And I, inclined as I was to carry everything to an extreme, treated them perhaps worse than anybody. By the time we graduated from the school and received our officers’ commissions, we were prepared, at a moment’s notice, to shed our blood for the honor of our regiment, although hardly one of us had any idea of the true meaning of the word “honor,” and if any of us had known, he would have been the first to ridicule it. Drunkenness, debauchery, and rowdyism were almost matters for pride. And although I cannot say that we were evil—nice young men that we were—we certainly behaved badly, and I worst of all. The main trouble was that I came into some money and started spending it in the pursuit of pleasure with the total recklessness and abandon of youth. Strangely enough, though, at the same time, I read books, and quite avidly at that. The only book I never opened then was my Bible, from which I had never parted and which always accompanied me in all my travels; I was keeping it, without realizing it myself, “for an hour and a day, a month and a year.” After I had lived four years of this life in the army, my regiment was moved to K. The social life in that town was varied and gay; there were many rich people and we were invited to their homes and entertained. I was welcomed everywhere, being of a gay disposition and also having a reputation as being rather well off, which does count for something in social relations. And then something happened that was to change the course of my life. I became interested in a pretty young girl. She was intelligent, well bred, bright, and generous, and her parents were highly respected in town. They occupied a rather prominent social position, were wealthy, and had good connections. They received me warmly and well. Then somehow I got the impression that their daughter had romantic feelings for me and at once my imagination was fired. Later, however, I realized that it was no passionate love that I felt for her. I simply admired her intelligence and the nobility of her character, which no one could help admiring. Besides, selfishness prevented me from asking for her hand, because I could not face giving up the freedom and joys of my debauched bachelor life when I was still so young and had money to spend. And so I decided at least to postpone for the time being the final step, although I did drop a few hints about my feelings for her. Then I was suddenly sent on duty to another district and when I returned two months later, I learned to my surprise that during my absence the girl had married a wealthy local landowner. He was somewhat older than I, but still young, and he had connections in Petersburg high society, which I did not have. He was also very kind and, what is more, a man of high culture, such as I myself did not have at all. I was so shocked by the news that I lost all sense of reality. But the most painful part of it for me was when I learned that the young landowner had been engaged to the girl for a long time, for, although I had met him at her house, I had never suspected there could be anything between the two of them, deluded as I was by what I thought were my own irresistible charms. And this is what actually hurt me most: how could it be that everyone else knew about it except me? It made me blush just to think how close I had come, on so many occasions, to blurting out a declaration of my love! And since she had never said anything to me, had never told me of her engagement, she was, I decided, mocking me. Thinking about it later, I realized that she certainly was not trying to make fun of me, for, whenever I had started to speak to her about my feelings, she had invariably warded me off with a joke and talked of something else. But at the time I was quite unable to see it that way and was filled with an overwhelming desire to avenge myself. It amazes me now when I think of it—this anger and desire for revenge quite pained and sickened me, for, being by nature rather easy-going, I could not be angry with anyone for long and so I had to kindle these feelings artificially, which made me quite unbearable and absurd. I bided my time, until, at a large gathering, I found an opportunity to insult the man I somehow considered my rival. I picked an unrelated pretext, trying to ridicule his opinion on an important political event—this was in 1826. People said that I succeeded in making fun of him bitingly and wittily. I maneuvered him into a position in which he had to ask me for an explanation and, in the course of that explanation, I was so rude to him that he at once challenged me, despite the great difference in our social positions—not only was I younger than he, but I was a man of no consequence and of low rank. Later I found out that he responded to my provocation because he, too, somehow felt jealous of me: he had rather resented my past friendship with his wife—his fiancée at the time—and now he feared that if she learned I had insulted him and he had not challenged me to a duel, she might come to despise him and then would not love him as before. I found a second right away—a lieutenant from my regiment. At that time, although dueling had been outlawed and was severely punished, it was very much in fashion in the army, for wild and stupid customs have a way of taking root and becoming firmly established. It was the end of June and we were to meet outside of town at seven in the morning. At this point something fateful happened to me. On the evening before, I returned home in a nasty, ugly mood, lost my temper with my orderly Afanasy, and rammed my fist into his face twice, bloodying it. He had not been with me for very long and, although I had hit him a few times before, I had never indulged in such unrestrained brutality. And please believe me, my dear friends, although all this happened more than forty years ago, I still feel pain and shame when I think of it. I went to bed, slept for three hours or so, and awakened to find the day already breaking. I could not go back to sleep so I got up, went to the window, and opened it. My window, which gave onto the garden, faced the rising sun. It was a warm and beautiful morning and the twittering of the birds was beginning to fill the air. But what this shameful and distasteful feeling within me was, I could not explain. Was it because I was about to shed blood? No, that didn’t seem to be what was bothering me. Was I afraid of being killed, afraid to die? No, that was certainly not it, that couldn’t be . . . And then, all of a sudden, I found it! It was because I had struck Afanasy the night before. I relived the whole scene: there he was in front of me. I swung my fist back and slammed it in his face . . . He was still facing forward; his arms stiffly at his sides, he stood to attention, not even dreaming of lifting his hand to ward off my blows, which only made his head jerk back. And this is what a man can be driven to do—to beat another man! I knew it was a crime and the realization was like a long, sharp needle piercing my heart. So I stood there like a lost soul while the sun shone, the little leaves shimmered gaily in the light, and the birds praised the Lord. I covered my face with my hands, threw myself on my bed, and wept aloud like a child. Suddenly the words of my brother Markel came back to me, the words he had spoken before his death, when he had asked the servants why they were so kind to him and waited on him, and had wondered if he deserved their services. And I asked myself: “Do I deserve to be waited on? Why should another man, made in the image of the Lord, just like me, be my servant?” It was the first time this question had arisen in my mind. And I remembered my brother Markel saying, “Mother, my own dear blood, every one of us is answerable for everyone else, but we don’t know it; if we did, we would at once have heaven on earth!” Might that not be true? I felt tears come to my eyes and I thought: “Perhaps I am really guilty before everyone; indeed, I must be guiltier and worse than anybody else in the world.” I lay thus in my bed with my face in the pillow, heedless how the time was passing. I was going to kill a good, clever, noble man, who had done me no wrong, and by depriving his wife of happiness for the rest of her life, I should be torturing and killing her too. And all at once the whole truth in its full light appeared to me; what was I going to do? Suddenly my second, the ensign, came in with the pistols to fetch me. "" “It’s a good thing you’re awake,” he said, “because it’s time for us to leave. Let’s go.” I became very excited and was not sure what I was doing. Nevertheless we went downstairs but then, as I was about to climb into the carriage, I said to him: “Wait for me a minute. I’ve left my purse behind. I must get it—it won’t take me a second.” So I rushed back upstairs and straight to Afanasy’s tiny, partitioned-off room. “Afanasy,” I said, “last night I hit you twice in the face. Please forgive me,” I said to him. He started as if frightened and stared at me. I saw then that I had to do more, and the next thing, just as I was, in dress uniform with epaulets and all, I threw myself down at his feet, touching the floor with my forehead. “Please forgive me!” I begged him. This time he was completely dumbfounded. “Sir . . . Please, sir . . . how can you . . . who am I for you to do that . . . please . . .” And, just as I had done earlier that morning, he covered his face with his hands and started to sob; he turned away from me, facing the window, his whole body shaking with his weeping, while I rushed out of the room, tore downstairs to my second, and jumped into the carriage. “Drive on!” I shouted. “Have you ever seen a conqueror? No? Well, look here—here’s one!” I was so happy and excited that I never stopped talking as we drove to the meeting place; I cannot even imagine all the things I said then. My comrade-in-arms kept looking at me and saying approvingly: “That’s the spirit. That’s the way to take it. I’m sure you won’t let your regiment down.” The others were already waiting for us when we arrived. They placed my opponent and me twelve paces apart, and it was he who had the first shot. I stood there, feeling very gay and happy, looking straight into his face, never batting an eye. And it was with love that I looked at him—I am certain of it, for I knew now what to do. He fired and the bullet just grazed my cheek, scratching my ear slightly. “Thank God,” I cried to my adversary, “you haven’t killed a man!” Then I turned my back on him and tossed my pistol far away, shouting: “Begone, I have no further need of you!” I turned back and said to my opponent: “Can you please forgive me, sir, stupid young man that I am, for having offended you deliberately and having forced you to take a shot at me. You are by ten times a better man than I am. Please tell that to the person whose opinion is the most important to you.” When they heard that, all three of them—he and the two seconds—began to shout at me. My opponent was very indignant at what I had said. “But if you had no intention of fighting, why did you bother me at all?” “Yesterday I was stupid,” I told him cheerfully, “but today I’m a bit wiser.” “I agree with you about yesterday, but I cannot concur with your opinion about today.” “Very well taken!” I cried, clapping my hands. “I agree with you—I deserve that!” “Are you or are you not going to fire the shot to which you are entitled, sir?” “No,” I said, “I am not going to. But you can go ahead and shoot at me again, although I believe it would be better for you if you didn’t.” The seconds were protesting noisily, especially my second: “What do you mean by begging your opponent for forgiveness in the middle of a duel! You’re a disgrace to the regiment! If I had suspected anything like this!” I stood there facing them and now I addressed them all seriously: “Gentlemen,” I said, “is it really so surprising these days to meet a man who can admit he has done something stupid and apologize publicly for the wrong he has done?” “But you cannot apologize in the course of the duel,” my second shouted at me angrily. “That’s just it,” I said. “I agree that I really should have apologized as soon as I arrived, before the gentleman fired his shot, so as not to expose him to a mortal sin. But we have things so stupidly twisted in our conventions that it was almost impossible for me to do that: only when I had allowed him to shoot at me from a distance of twelve paces could my word have any weight at all for you, for if I had apologized before that shot, you would have simply dismissed me as a coward and not even listened to me . . . “Gentlemen!” I cried in a burst of passion, “look around you and see all the things God has given us: look at the clear sky, at the air that is so transparent, at the tender grass and at the birds, at the beauty of immaculate and sinless nature, in which we are the only stupid, godless creatures who do not understand that life is a heaven. As soon as we understand that, we shall have that heaven here in all its beauty and we shall embrace one another and weep with joy . . .” I wanted to say more but could not go on because I was so moved it took my breath away; everything looked so lovely and enchanting and I was filled with a joy such as I had never before experienced. “That all sounds quite reasonable and very pious,” my opponent said. “Whatever else, you are certainly a rather original person.” “You can laugh at me now and I’ll laugh with you, but I’m sure that some day you will approve of what I am doing now.” “Why,” he said, “I’m prepared to approve of it right now—here’s my hand—because I believe you are really sincere.” “No,” I said, “it’s too early for that; wait until I make myself into a better person, who deserves your respect, and then you will give me your hand.” As we drove back, my second kept berating me, while I kept embracing him. That very day, my fellow officers all heard the story and met to discuss what I had done and to decide what to do about it. “He has disgraced the uniform,” some said, “so let him hand in his resignation.” “But he did stand there while his opponent fired at him,” my defenders argued. “Yes, but he was too afraid to expose himself to more shots and begged for mercy under fire.” “If he had been afraid of facing more shots, he would have fired at his opponent when his turn came, instead of tossing his loaded pistol away . . . No, there’s obviously something else to it, something quite original.” It amused me to watch them and listen to them. “Dear friends and comrades,” I said to them, “please don’t bother to argue over whether I should or should not resign my commission —I have already sent in my resignation, today. As soon as it comes through, I will enter a monastery, since that’s why I want to leave the army.” They roared with laughter at that, every single one of them. “Why didn’t you say so from the start? Now it’s all clear; we would certainly never have sat in judgment on a monk . . .” They kept laughing for a long time. They couldn’t stop, but there was nothing sarcastic in their laughter. It was just gay and friendly and, indeed, they all suddenly became very fond of me, even those who had been fiercest in accusing me. For the whole of the following month, while my resignation was being processed, they fussed over me lovingly. “Our monk,” they called me, and each of them would try to say something nice to me; some were even so sorry to see me go that they tried to convince me to cancel my resignation: “Why must he do that to himself?” they said. “He’s brave; we all know that he stood there while his opponent fired at him, and he would have shot him then but for the dream he had had the night before, which made him decide to become a monk. That’s the whole explanation.” And it was the same with local society. Before the duel, although I had been received warmly in various houses, I had never made any great impression. But now I was in great demand everywhere: people would invite me to visit them, and they would laugh at me, but love me at the same time. I should note here that, although everyone talked openly about the duel, the military authorities declared the whole affair closed, because my opponent happened to be closely related to the General and, since the whole thing had ended bloodlessly and almost like a joke, they treated it as such, especially since I had handed in my resignation. I spoke my mind fearlessly despite their laughter, for it was kind, not wicked laughter. It was mostly in the evenings, in the presence of the ladies, that I had an opportunity to voice my beliefs, for the women came to like listening to me and made their men listen too. “But how can you possibly be responsible for everyone?” people would say, laughing at me openly. “How could you be responsible for our acts, for instance?” “How can you understand,” I told them, “when the whole world has been running on false ideas for so long, when we accept unmitigated lies as truth and demand lies of others. Now that, for the first time in my life, I have acted sincerely, you all look upon me as if I were one of God’s fools and, although you like me, you still laugh at me.” “How could anybody help liking you?” my hostess said, laughing openly in front of the many guests gathered in her house. A lady stood up abruptly then, and I recognized the young woman who had been the cause of the duel and whom, so recently, I had almost considered my future bride. I had not seen her arrive. She came over to me and gave me her hand. “Allow me to assure you,” she said, “that I for one am not laughing at you. In fact, I want to thank you with tears in my eyes and tell you how deeply I respect you for the way you behaved on that occasion.” Her husband came up to me too and then they all surrounded me, almost hugging and kissing me. I felt elated, but I was particularly struck by a middle-aged gentleman who also came up to me. I knew his name, but I had never really been acquainted with him before and I had never even exchanged a word with him until that evening. D.","This ridiculous weakness is perhaps one of our worst instincts; is anything more stupid than choosing to carry a burden that really one wants to cast on the ground? to hold existence in horror, and yet to cling to it?",0,0.9927672,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 The body of the deceased hieroschemamonk, Father Zosima, was prepared for burial according to the established order. As is known, dead monks and schema monks are not washed. “Whenever someone departs from the monks to the Lord (it is said in the great missal), then the perpetrated monk (that is, appointed for this) wipes his body with warm water, first creating a cross on the forehead of the deceased person, on the persech, on his hands with his lip (that is, with a Greek sponge) both on the feet and on the knees, nothing is more glorious. "" All this was performed on the deceased by Father Paisy himself. After wiping off, he dressed him in a monastic robe and wrapped him in a mantle; for which, according to the rule, he cut it a little in order to twine it crosswise. He put a doll with an octagonal cross on his head. The doll was left open, while the face of the deceased was covered with black air. An icon of the Savior was placed in his hands. In this form, by the morning they put him in a coffin (already prepared for a long time). They decided to leave the coffin in the cell (in the first large room, in the same one in which the deceased elder received the brethren and the worldly) for the whole day. Since the deceased was a hieroschemamonk by rank, the hieromonks and hierodeacons should read over him not the Psalter, but the Gospel. Began reading, now after the requiem, Father Joseph; Father Paisy, who himself wished to read later all day and all night, while he was still very busy and anxious, together with the Father Superior of the skete, for suddenly it began to appear, and more and more, both in the monastery brethren and in those arriving from the monastery hotels and from the city crowds of worldly something extraordinary, some unheard of and ""inappropriate"" even excitement and impatient anticipation. Both the abbot and Father Paisy made every effort to calm down those who were so fidgety as much as possible. When it had already embraced enough, some even those who had taken their sick, especially children, began to arrive from the city, as if they were waiting for this on purpose for this moment, apparently hoping for an immediate healing power, which, according to their faith, could not slow down ... And here it was only revealed to what extent all of us had become accustomed to regard the deceased old man, even during his lifetime, as an undoubted and great saint. And among those arriving there were far from just common people. This great expectation of believers, so hastily and nakedly expressed and even with impatience and almost demand, seemed to Father Paisius an undoubted temptation, and although he had a presentiment for a long time, but in fact exceeded his expectations. Meeting with the agitated monks, Father Paisy even began to reprimand them: ""Such and such an immediate expectation of something great,"" he said, ""is a frivolity, possible only among the secular, but not appropriate for us."" But they listened little to him, and Father Paisy noticed this with concern, despite the fact that even himself (if we really remember everything), although he was indignant at too impatient expectations and found in them frivolity and vanity, deep in his soul, he was expecting almost the same thing as these agitated ones, which he could not help but admit to himself. Nevertheless, he was particularly unpleasant about other encounters, which aroused in him, according to some premonition, great doubts. In the crowd crowded in the deceased's cell, he noticed with mental disgust (for which he immediately reproached himself) the presence of, for example, Rakitin, or a distant guest - an Obdorsk monk who was still in the monastery, and for some reason Father Paisy suddenly considered both of them suspicious - although not the only ones that could be seen in the same sense. The Obdorsk monk, of all the agitated ones, was the most bustling; One could notice him everywhere, in all places: everywhere he asked questions , everywhere he listened, everywhere he whispered with some special mysterious air. The expression on his face was the most impatient and, as it were, irritated by the fact that what had been expected for so long did not happen. As for Rakitin, he, as it turned out later, found himself so early in the skete on the special instructions of Mrs. Khokhlakova. This kind, but spineless woman, who herself could not be admitted to the skete, as soon as she woke up and found out about the deceased, suddenly became imbued with such impetuous curiosity that she immediately sent Rakitin instead of herself to the skete so that he would observe everything and immediately inform her in writing , about every half hour, about everything that happens. As for Rakitin himself, she considered him the most devout and religious of young men – to such a degree was he able to manage everyone and present himself to each according to the other’s desire, if he perceived even the least advantage to himself. As he wandered about the grounds, Father Paisy suddenly remembered Alyosha and the fact that it was a long time since he had seen him, since the previous night almost. The day was bright and cloudless, and many of the pilgrims who had arrived were crowding around the hermitage’s tombs, which were most heavily concentrated around the church, as well as being scattered about the entire hermitage. And no sooner had he remembered him than at once he spotted him in the most remote corner of the hermitage, by the enclosure, sitting on the tombstone of a certain monk who had long lain there and had been famed for his great acts of pious heroism. He was sitting with his back to the skete, facing the fence and, as it were, hiding behind the monument. Coming up to him, Father Paisiy saw that he, covering his face with both palms, was crying bitterly, though silently, and shaking his whole body from sobs. Father Paisiy stood over him for a few moments.","I have nothing to do with that unpleasant task, and with that mountebank: I, too, am ill; and besides, it is not my place.” This reply was reported to the Bishop, who said, “Monsieur le Curé is right: it is not his place; it is mine.”",0,0.9926542,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 80 And at the centre of this wholesale looting operation, like the ransacking of a captured town, Zoé was artfully contriving to save appearances, and covering everybody else ’s thefts in order to include and protect her own. Julien insisted on getting his rake-off from the tradesmen, and every pane of glass, replaced at a cost of one franc, carried a 50 per-cent surcharge for himself; Charles devoured oats by the bushel for his horses, buying double the quantity required and selling off at the back-door whatever was delivered at the front. But even worse was the waste: yesterday’s left-overs went straight into the rubbish bin, together with piles of food the servants had got tired of; glasses smeared with sugar, gas-jets left burning full on, threatening to blow up the house; spitefulness, neglect, and bungling, everything that could accelerate the ruin of a household plundered by so many greedy mouths.",I got the money as a reward and was using it to buy some chintz cloth …” She then went off on a tangent about how it wasn’t her fault that the house management had let an evil power take over the fifth floor and make life there impossible.,0,0.99253935,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 ""As for running away, I decided on that only about five months after those first dreadful couple of months. In general, all my life I've been very slow to take action. Every night when I went to bed and pulled the blanket over my head, I'd always go back to making up those romances about you, sir, about you alone, I don't know why. And when I fell asleep, it was you I'd dream of. The scene I liked best to imagine was you arriving at the school, me throwing myself into your arms, and you taking me away, to that Moscow study where we'd met and then to the theater, and things like that. And we would never be parted again—that was the most important! "" But in the mornings I had to wake up and get out of bed. Then the baiting by the boys would start all over again. One of them would beat me up first thing every morning and force me to bring him his boots while calling me disgusting names and explaining the secrets of my birth to the great enjoyment of the others. By the time Touchard came around, I was utterly miserable. I felt that I'd never be forgiven by these people and I began to understand what I'd done wrong. Yes, I finally did gather how I was wrong and why I couldn't be forgivenl And that's when I decided to run away. I dreamed incessantly of running away for two months. Then September came around and I decided it was time to go carry out my plan. I waited for all the boys to leave school on Saturday night to spend Sunday with their families. I had carefully made a bundle of the most indispensable things to take with mo. I had two rubles in cush. I thought I'd wait until it got dark enough. I'd go downstairs, go out the gates, and start walking. Where would I go? On Saturday, however, there was no way to escape; I had to wait until tomorrow, until Sunday, and, as if on purpose, Touchard and his wife left somewhere on Sunday; there were only me and Agafya left in the whole house. I knew that Andronikov had already been transferred to Petersburg, and I decided that I would find Fanariotova's house on the Arbat; “I pass the night somewhere or sit, and in the morning I will ask someone in the courtyard of the house: where is Andrei Petrovich now, and if not in Moscow, then in what city or state? I'll all go; I will spend the night somewhere under the bushes, and I will eat only bread, and two rubles worth of bread will be enough for me for a very long time. They will probably say. I'll leave, and then in another place somewhere and someone I'll ask: which outpost to go to, if in such and such a city, well, I'll go out, and I'll go, and I'll go. I waited for night to come in a state of terrible anguish. I remember sitting by the schoolroom window, looking out at the dusty street and the few passers-by. Touchard's school was on the edge of Petersburg and from the window I could see a city gate. Would that be the one for me, I wondered. The sun was so red as it rolled down the horizon and the sky looked awfully cold and the wickedly biting wind was raising clouds of dust just like today. At last it got quite dark. I knelt before the icon and prayed. But I prayed very quickly since I was in a great hurry. Then I picked up my little bundle and tiptoed down the creaking stairs, terrified at the thought that Agafia should hear me from the kitchen. The door was locked. I turned the key and suddenly there was the blackness of the night stretching in front of me, boundless, dangerous, and unknown. A burst of wind almost tore my cap off my head. I stepped out into the street. From across the street I heard a scream, a drunken voice, and a streak of foul oaths. I stood there for a few moments, looking out into the darkness. Then I turned around, went back into the house, walked quietly upstairs, unpacked my bundle, undressed, and lay down flat on my face. I didn't cry, my mind was blank, but it was this incident that started me thinking: it made me realize that, besides being a flunkey, I was also a coward, and it was with this realization that my real mental growth began!""","'But why, Olga?' "" 'Because that's how it must be.' And she said nothing more all that evening, and, between one and two o'clock in the morning, I woke up and I realized she was not asleep from the way she was turning from one side to the other. "" 'Are you awake, Mother?' she asked, and I said, 'Yes, Olga, I'm awake.' ' Do you know,' she said then, 'he was trying to insult me.' ' But why, Olga, what makes you think that?' ' I'm sure I'm right",0,0.99242276,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 MY OWN, MY DARLING,—I wish to write to you, yet know not where to begin. Things are as strange as though we were actually living together. Also I would add that never in my life have I passed such happy days as I am spending at present. ‘ Tis as though God had blessed me with a home and a family of my own! Yes, you are my little daughter, beloved. But why mention the four sorry roubles that I sent you? You needed them; I know that from Thedora herself, and it will always be a particular pleasure to me to gratify you in anything. It will always be my one happiness in life. Pray, therefore, leave me that happiness, and do not seek to cross me in it. Things are not as you suppose. I have now reached the sunshine since, in the first place, I am living so close to you as almost to be with you (which is a great consolation to my mind), while, in the second place, a neighbour of mine named Rataziaev (the retired official who gives the literary parties) has today invited me to tea. This evening, therefore, there will be a gathering at which we shall discuss literature! Think of that my darling! Well, goodbye now. I have written this without any definite aim in my mind, but solely to assure you of my welfare. Through Theresa I have received your message that you need an embroidered cloak to wear, so I will go and purchase one. Yes, tomorrow I mean to purchase that embroidered cloak, and so give myself the pleasure of having satisfied one of your wants. I know where to go for such a garment. For the time being I remain your sincere friend,","I send you some grapes, my dear; for a convalescent woman, they say, it’s good, and the doctor recommends it to quench thirst, so only for thirst. You wanted roses the other day, mother; So I'm sending them to you now. Do you have an appetite, darling? - that's what's important. However, thank God that everything has passed and ended, and that our misfortunes, too, are completely ending. Let's give thanks to heaven! As for books, I can't get them anywhere for the time being. There is here, they say, a good book, one and written in a very high style; they say it's good, I haven't read it myself, but here they are very praised. I asked her for myself; promised to deliver.",0,0.9923044,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 “We don't answer questions like that.” “You will have to answer them,” said K. And how come it's like this?” “Now you're starting again,” said the policeman, dipping a piece of buttered bread in the honeypot.","At first, K. was astonished at this orderly explanation, but then, just as quietly as the painter, he said, “I think you're contradicting yourself.” “How's that?” asked the painter patiently, leaning back with a smile. This smile made K. feel as if he were examining not the words of the painter but seeking out inconsistencies in the procedures of the court itself. Nonetheless, he continued unabashed and said, “You remarked earlier that the court cannot be approached with reasoned proofs, you later restricted this to the open court, and now you go so far as to say that an innocent man needs no assistance in court. That entails a contradiction. Moreover, you said earlier that the judges can be influenced personally but now you insist that an absolute acquittal, as you call it, can never be attained through personal influence.",0,0.9921841,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 80 - And what happened to the model? it's nothing , it's a sketch of youth, it was a costume for a variety show. All of this is a long way off. I could not contain my admiration. It was thought, moreover, that it must be artificial and that the young being who seemed to offer himself to caresses in this provocative costume had probably found it piquant to add to it the romantic expression of a secret feeling, of an unacknowledged grief. At the bottom of the portrait was written: Miss Sacripant, October 1872. "" Oh ! An astonishment provoked by my words preceded on Elstir's face the indifferent and distracted expression which after a second he laid there. ""Here, pass me this painting quickly,"" he said to me, ""I hear Madame Elstir arriving and although the young person with the melon has played, I assure you, no role in my life, it is useless for my woman have this watercolor in front of her.","I only kept it as an entertaining memento of the theatre of that period.’ Before hiding the work behind him, Elstir, who had perhaps not seen it for a long time, stared at it and murmured, ‘The head’s the only thing worth keeping. Those lower bits are dreadful. The hands are by a beginner.’",0,0.9921841,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 I turn around: Grushnitsky! We embraced. I had met him on active service. He had been wounded by a bullet in the leg and had come to the waters a week before me. Grushnitsky is a cadet. After just a year in service, he wears a heavy soldier’s greatcoat—a particular kind of dandyism. He has the St. George’s Cross for soldiers. He is well-built, has black hair and a dark complexion. He looks as though he is twenty-five years old, but he is barely twenty-one. He throws his head back when he talks and he twists his mustache with his left hand all the time, while the right hand leans on his crutch. His speech is quick and fanciful: he is one of those people who have a flamboyant phrase ready for any situation, who aren’t touched by the simply beautiful, and who grandly drape themselves with extraordinary feelings, sublime passions and exceptional suffering. To produce an effect is rapture to them; romantic provincial ladies go crazy over them. Toward old age, they become either peaceful landowners, or drunks—and sometimes both. There are often many good attributes to their souls, but not a half-kopeck piece of poetry. Grushnitsky’s passion was to declaim: he bespattered you with words as soon as the conversation left the arena of usual understanding; I could never argue with him. He doesn’t answer objections, he doesn’t listen to you. As soon as you stop, he begins a long tirade, which seemingly has some sort of connection to what you have just said, but which in fact is only a continuation of his own speech.",They delight in producing an effect. They are madly fancied by romantic provincial girls.,1,0.11676401,0
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 Aschenbach was tempted to threaten him with his finger. "" But I advise you, Kritobulos,"" he thought with a smile, ""go on a journey for a year! Because that's the minimum time you need to recover.” And then he ate breakfast, large, ripe strawberries that he bought from a vendor. It had become very warm, although the sun could not penetrate the haze of the sky. Inertia enthralled the mind while the senses enjoyed the immense and stupefying amusement of the stillness of the sea. To guess, to research what name it was that read something like ""Adgio,"" seemed to the serious man an adequate, completely fulfilling task and occupation. And with the help of some Polish memories, he established that ""Tadzio"" must be meant, the abbreviation of ""Tadeusz"" and in the phone call ""Tadziu"". Tadzio bathed. Aschenbach, who had lost sight of him, discovered his head, his arm, with which he was rowing, far out in the sea; for the sea might be flat far out. But already people seemed worried about him, women's voices were already calling him from the huts, again uttering this name, which dominated the beach almost like a slogan and with its soft consonants, its drawn u-call at the end, something sweet and wild at the same time had: ""Tadziu, Tadziu!"" Back he came, running through the waves, his legs beating the resistant water into foam, his head flung back, and to see so vibrant a figure, with the grace and austerity of early manhood, locks dripping, fair as a gentle god, emerging from the depths of sea and sky, escaping the watery element—it was enough to inspire mythical associations, like the lay of a bard about times primeval, about the origin of form and the birth of the gods. With his eyes closed, Aschenbach listened to the singing that sounded within him; and again he thought that it was good here and that he would stay.","He obeyed, he ran, beating the resisting water to foam with his legs, his head thrown back through the flood; and to see how the living figure, gentle and austere before a man, with flowing curls and beautiful like a delicate god, coming from the depths of sky and sea, rose from the elements and escaped: This sight inspired mythical ideas, it was like poetry of beginning times, of the origin of form, and of the birth of the gods.",1,0.11676401,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 40 The Executioner saw a horse inside the gate, already saddled, and urged the emperor to mount it. When the Executioner had helped him up, the horse went off like an arrow and soon arrived at the banks of the Wei River. The Judge said, “When your Majesty returns to earth, you must on no account forget to found the Society for the Salvation of Souls. The emperor took note of each of these things and bade the Judge farewell. If all evils are redressed, and all men instructed how to be good, then I guarantee that your descendants will be long lived and your Empire permanently safe.” If there are no complaints in Hell, then the people on earth shall enjoy happiness. He then followed the Executioner and with him entered the gate.","“Yuan Shu of the South of River Huai, with his strong army and abundant resources; is he one?” His host laughed, “A rotting skeleton in a graveyard. I shall put him out of the way shortly.” “Well, Yuan Shao then. The highest offices of state have been held in his family for four generations, and his clients are many in the empire. He is firmly posted in Jizhou, and he commands the services of many able people. Surely he is one.”",0,0.992062,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 Even Sobakevich himself, who rarely spoke of anyone from the good side, when he returned home rather late from town and, undressing completely, lay down in bed beside his lean-fleshed wife, said to her: “I, my dearest, was at the governor’s soirée and dined at the police chief’s, and I made the acquaintance of Collegiate Councillor Pavel Ivanovich Chichikov—a most agreeable man!” He spoke neither loudly nor softly, but absolutely as one ought. In short, however you turned it, he was a very respectable man. The governor opined of him that he was a right-minded man; the prosecutor that he was a sensible man; the colonel of the gendarmes said he was a learned man; the head magistrate that he was a knowledgeable and estimable man; the police chief that he was an estimable and amiable man; the police chief’s wife that he was a most amiable and mannerly man. The officials were all pleased at the arrival of a new person.","“My friend’s son!” he cried, addressing Nina Alexandrovna. “And so unexpectedly! I’d long ceased imagining. But, my dear, don’t you remember the late Nikolai Lvovich? Wasn’t he still in Tver … when you …?”",0,0.992062,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 “You’re really still only a child, Rossmann,” said Robinson, then drew from his shirt a dagger that hung from a piece of string tied around his neck, took it from its scabbard, and cut the hard sausage into little pieces. “You still have a lot to learn. But you’ve come to the right place for that. Do sit down. You don’t want to eat? Well, you can develop an appetite as you watch me eat. You don’t want to drink either? You don’t want anything? I spend a lot of time out here. Brunelda gets a kick out of that. But I don’t mind who’s out on the balcony with me, so long as I’ve got someone. You’re not exactly chatty either. She’s always thinking of something new, first she’s cold , then she’s hot , then she wants to sleep, then she wants to comb her hair, then she’d like to open her corset, then she wants to put it on, so I’m always being sent out on the balcony. At times she actually does what she says, but for the most part she stays on the settee and doesn’t stir. Often I would part the curtains a little and look in, but ever since one such occasion when Delamarche—I know for certain that it wasn’t his idea and that he did so only at Brunelda’s request—hit me on the face with a whip—can you see the weals it left?—I don’t dare look anymore. So I lie out here on the balcony, and the only pleasure left is eating. The day before yesterday, as I lay here all alone in the evening, still wearing my elegant clothes, which, alas, I then lost at your hotel—those dogs! the way they tore those expensive clothes from my body—as I lay here all alone, gazing down between the columns of the balustrade, everything somehow seemed so sad that I started to bawl. Though I didn’t notice right away, at that moment Brunelda came out wearing her red dress —it’s the one that suits her best—and , after watching me for a while, she finally said: ‘Dear little Robinson, why are you crying?’ Then she lifted her dress and wiped my eyes with the hem. Who knows what else she might have done if Delamarche hadn’t called for her just then and she hadn’t had to go back into the room right away. Of course, I thought it was going to be my turn, so I asked through the curtain whether I could go back into the room. And what do you think Brunelda said? ‘No,’ she said, and then she said, ‘How dare you?’ ”","Let me use an illustration. A man has fallen into a terrible malady. First the physician must administer hashish, then soothing drugs until his viscera shall be calmed into harmonious action. When the sick man's body shall have been reduced to quietude, then may he be given strong meats to strengthen him and powerful drugs to correct the disorder. Thus the disease will be quite expelled, and the man restored to health. If the physician does not wait till the humors and pulse are in harmony, but throws in his strong drugs too early, it will be difficult to restore the patient. “My master suffered defeat at Runan and went to Liu Biao. He had then less than one thousand soldiers and only three generals—Guan Yu, Zhang Fei, and Zhao Yun. That was indeed a time of extreme weakness. Xinye was a secluded, rustic town with few inhabitants and scanty supplies, and my master only retired there as a temporary refuge. How could he even think of occupying and holding it?",0,0.992062,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 “At last, at last—I’ve been waiting for you all this time. So quick—tell us all about it, tell us everything … Papa muddled everything up so badly that I was left quite confused … you know what he’s like, when he’s excited he can never tell you anything properly.","He’s very impressionable, sir, and he forgot all about his elder and about everything else. I know that a local artist took a liking to him: he started visiting Mikolka, and then this incident occurred!",0,0.992062,1
+"lexical = 80, order = 20 Sometimes Pokrovsky knew me, but this was seldom. He was almost all the time unconscious. Sometimes for whole nights together he would carry on long, long conversations with someone in obscure, indistinct words and his hoarse voice resounded with a hollow echo in his narrow room as in a coffin; I used to feel terrified then. Especially on the last night he seemed in a frenzy; he suffered terribly, was in anguish; his moans wrung my heart. Everyone in the house was in alarm. Anna Fyodorovna kept praying that God would take him more quickly. They sent for the doctor. The doctor said that the patient would certainly die by the morning.","However, I saw with secret joy and proud pleasure that he forgot his unbearable books because of me.",0,0.99193794,1
+"lexical = 100, order = 100 I want to be like that.",‘But to a hundred!,0,0.9918121,1
+"lexical = 20, order = 60 I will not conceal from you, Varinka, that I am overwhelmed by my debts and the awful condition of my wardrobe, but that again does not matter, and about that too , I entreat you, do not despair, my dear. Send me another half rouble. Varinka, that half rouble rends my heart too. So that’s what it has come to now, that is how it is, old fool that I am; it’s not I helping you, my angel, but you, my poor little orphan, helping me.","she does nothing more than grumble; as for other people, they don’t matter, one mustn’t borrow money of them, that’s all, and to conclude my explanations I tell you, Varvara Alexyevna, that your respect for me I esteem more highly than anything on earth, and I am comforted by it now in my temporary troubles. Thank God that the first blow and the first shock are over and that you have taken it as you have, and don’t look on me as a false friend, or an egoist for keeping you here and deceiving you because I love you as my angel and could not bring myself to part from you. I’ve set to work again assiduously and have begun performing my duties well. Yevstafy Ivanovitch did just say a word when I passed him by yesterday. I will not conceal from you, Varinka, that I am overwhelmed by my debts and the awful condition of my wardrobe, but that again does not matter, and about that too , I entreat you, do not despair, my dear. Send me another half rouble. Varinka, that half rouble rends my heart too.",0,0.99155444,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 - ""You're kidding. "" Yesterday the elder said that I was joking. You see, my dear fellow, there was an old sinner in the eighteenth century who said that if there were no God, he should have invented him, s'il n'existait pas Dieu il faudrait l'inventer. Indeed, man invented God. And it is not that strange, or it would be marvelous that God really exists, but it is marvelous that such a thought - the thought of the necessity of God - could crawl into the head of such a wild and evil animal as man, before it is holy, before She is touching, so wise, and so much does she do honor to a person. As for me, I have long since decided not to think about whether man created God or God created man? I will not, of course, go over all the modern axioms of Russian boys on this score, all entirely derived from European hypotheses; because there is a hypothesis, then the Russian boy is immediately an axiom, and not only the boys, but, perhaps, their professors too, because very often Russian professors are now the same Russian boys. And so, I’ll ignore all those hypotheses for the time being. For what is the purpose of this conversation between us? And so I will just state here plainly and briefly that I accept God. Its purpose, as I understand it, is for me to explain to you, as briefly as possible, what I am— that is, what sort of a man I am, what I believe in, and what I hope for. But I must point out one thing: if God does exist and if He really created the world, then, as we well know. He created it according to the principles of Euclidean geometry and made the human brain capable of grasping only three dimensions of space. Meanwhile, there were and are even now geometers and philosophers, and even of the most remarkable, who doubt that the whole universe or, even more extensively, all being was created only according to Euclidean geometry, they even dare to dream that two parallel lines, which, according to Euclid, they could never converge on earth, perhaps they would converge somewhere in infinity. My dear fellow, I decided that if I can't even understand this, then where can I understand about God. I humbly admit that I have no ability to resolve such issues , I have a Euclidean, earthly mind, and therefore where can we decide what is not of this world? Yes, and I advise you never to think about it, friend Alyosha, and above all about God: is he there or not? All these questions are completely alien to the mind, created with the concept of only three dimensions. So, I accept God, and not only willingly, but, moreover, I accept both his wisdom and his purpose, which are completely unknown to us , I believe in order, in the meaning of life, I believe in eternal harmony, in which we seem to all merge , I believe in the Word, to which the universe aspires and which itself ""be to God"" and which is God himself, well, so on and so on, and so on into infinity. There are a lot of words on this score. I think I'm on a good road - huh? Well, just imagine that in the final result I do not accept the peace of this God, and although I know that it exists, I do not admit it at all. I don’t accept God, understand this , I don’t accept the world he created, the world of God and I cannot agree to accept. I will make a reservation: I am convinced, like a baby, that suffering will heal and be smoothed out, that all the offensive comic of human contradictions will disappear, like a pitiful mirage, like an ugly invention of a weak and small, like an atom, human Euclidean mind, which, finally, in the world finale, at the moment eternal harmony, something so precious will happen and appear that it will be enough for all hearts, for satisfying all indignations, for atonement for all the atrocities of people, for all their blood they shed, it will be enough to not only be able to forgive, but also to justify everything that happened to people - let it all be and appear, but I don’t accept this and I don’t want to accept it! Even if the parallel lines converge, I’ll see it myself: I’ll see it and say that it’s agreed, but still I won’t accept it. This is my essence, Alyosha, this is my thesis. This I seriously told you. I deliberately began this conversation with you as it is impossible to start more stupidly, but brought it to my confession, because only you need it. You didn't need to know about God, you just needed to find out how your beloved brother lives. I said.","[29] Why, I'm talking about a goose. So I turn to this fool and answer him: ""But I think about what the goose is thinking."" He looks at me completely stupidly: ""And what is the goose thinking about?""",0,0.9914225,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 Everything is over! My lot is cast; I don’t know what it will be, but I am resigned to God’s will. To-morrow we set off. I say good-bye to you for the last time, my precious one, my friend, my benefactor, my own! Don’t grieve for me, live happily, think of me, and may God’s blessing descend on us! I shall often remember you in my thoughts, in my prayers. So this time is over! I bring to my new life little consolation from the memories of the past; the more precious will be my memory of you, the more precious will your memory be to my heart. You are my one friend; you are the only one there who loved me. You know I have seen it all, I know how you love me! You were happy in a smile from me and a few words from my pen. Now you will have to get used to being without me. How will you do, left alone here? To whom am I leaving you my kind, precious, only friend! I leave you the book, the embroidery frame, the unfinished letter; when you look at those first words, you must read in your thoughts all that you would like to hear or read from me, all that I should have written to you; and what I could not write now! Think of your poor Varinka who loves you so truly. All your letters are at Fedora’s in the top drawer of a chest. You write that you are ill and Mr. Bykov will not let me go out anywhere to-day. I will write to you, my friend, I promise; but, God alone knows what may happen. And so we are saying good-bye now for ever, my friend, my darling, my own, for ever.... Oh, if only I could embrace you now! Good-bye, my dear; good-bye, good-bye. Live happily, keep well. My prayers will be always for you. Oh! how sad I am, how weighed down in my heart. Mr. Bykov is calling me. Your ever loving","O! how sad I am, how it crushes my whole soul. Mr. Bykov is calling me.",0,0.99128854,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 Let me gather my thoughts just a little, let me draw breath, gentlemen. All of this is a terrible shock, a terrible shock, after all a man is not a drumskin, gentlemen!’ ‘Permit me, gentlemen, permit me just one little minute more,’ Mitya broke off, placing both elbows on the table and covering his face with the palms of his hands. ‘ ","These were my thoughts, as the train sped on. I couldn’t close my eyes; the body of that young man would appear to me at once with terrible clarity there on the path, so neat and small, under the huge, still trees in the cool morning. So I had to comfort myself with another nightmare, less bloody (in the literal sense, at least): the vision of my mother-in-law and my wife.",0,0.99128854,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 Alexey Alexandrovich, after meeting Vronsky on his porch, went, as he had intended, to the Italian opera. He served two acts there and saw everyone he needed. But contrary to custom he did not go to bed and paced back and forth, up and down his study, until three o’clock in the morning. When he returned home, he examined the coat stand carefully, and remarking that there was no military coat, he proceeded to his rooms, as was his custom. The feeling of anger at his wife, who did not want to observe decency and fulfill the only condition set for her - not to accept her lover, haunted him. She did not fulfill his demands, and he must punish her and carry out his threat - to demand a divorce and take away his son. He knew all the difficulties associated with this case, but he said that he would do it, and now he must fulfill the threat. Countess Lidia Ivanovna hinted to him that this was the best way out of his situation, and recently the practice of divorces has brought this matter to such an improvement that Alexey Alexandrovich saw an opportunity to overcome formal difficulties. In addition, trouble alone does not go, and the affairs of the organization of foreigners and the irrigation of the fields of the Zaraisk province brought such troubles on Alexei Alexandrovich in the service that he had been in extreme irritation all this lately.","On the third day after the quarrel, Prince Stepan Arkadyevich Oblonsky - Steve, as he was called in the world - at the usual hour, that is, at eight o'clock in the morning, woke up not in his wife's bedroom, but in his study, on a morocco sofa.",0,0.9911527,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 60 I said goodbye feeling like someone recovering from illness. Suddenly it no longer seemed to me any sacrifice to have promised myself again, and for ever, to another woman who had suffered and was an outcast from normal life. Why love the healthy, confident, proud and happy? They don’t need it. They take love as their rightful due, as the duty owed to them, they accept it indifferently and arrogantly. Only those who have been disadvantaged by fate, only the disturbed, the neglected, the insecure, the ugly, the humiliated can one truly help through love. A mere ingredient, a jewel in their hair, a clasp on their arms, is someone else's devotion, not the whole meaning and happiness of their lives. Anyone who gives their life to them repays what life has taken from them. They alone know how to love and be loved in the right way, humbly and with gratitude.","All this was now presented to me through the mouth of José Dias, who had denounced me to myself, and to whom I forgave everything, the evil I had said, the evil I had done, and whatever could come from one or the other. At that moment, the eternal Truth would not be worth more than he, nor the eternal Goodness, nor the other eternal Virtues. I loved Capitu! Capitu loved me! And my legs walked, walked, stopped, trembling and believing in embracing the world. That first throb of the sap, that revelation of consciousness to itself, I never forgot, nor did I think any other sensation of the same kind was comparable to it. Of course because it's mine.",0,0.9911527,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 80 A sharp bow from Herr Settembrini induced him to continue, “Ah, I see that will not be necessary. I am in your way, you are in mine—fine, then, we shall find some appropriate venue for the settlement of our little differences. For the moment, just one thing. In your goody-goody concern for the scholastic state of ideas proclaimed by Jacobin revolution, you see some sort of pedagogic crime in my method of letting youth doubt, of casting categories to the winds, and of robbing ideas of their academic dignity. That concern is only too justified, for your humanism is done with, you may be assured of that—over and done with. Even now it is only a pigtail, a classicistic absurdity, a bit of intellectual ennui, which produces only yawns and which the new revolution, our revolution, is about to sweep aside. We, when we sow the seeds of doubt deeper than the most up-to-date and modish freethought has ever dreamed of doing, we well know what we are about. This for your instruction, and my justification. Only out of radical scepsis, out of moral chaos, can the Absolute spring, the anointed Terror of which the time has need. For the rest we must turn over the page. You shall hear from me.”",Take the whole of the nineteenth century in which Buckle lived. Take Napoleon—the Great and also the present one. Take North America—the eternal union. Take the farce of Schleswig-Holstein.... And what is it that civilisation softens in us? The only gain of civilisation for mankind is the greater capacity for variety of sensations—and absolutely nothing more. And through the development of this many-sidedness man may come to finding enjoyment in bloodshed.,0,0.9911527,1
+"lexical = 80, order = 40 To tell you the truth, my dear, I began describing all this to you partly in order to unburden my heart, but more particularly in order to provide you with an example of the good style of my literary compositions. Because I think you will probably agree, little mother, that my style has improved of late. But now I am visited by such sickness of heart that I have begun to feel my thoughts in the depths of my soul, and although I am aware, little mother, that this feeling will not get me anywhere , I none the less believe that I am in a certain sense doing myself justice. And really, my darling, I often take the wind out of my own sails for no reason at all, I consider myself not worth a pinch of salt, class myself among the lowest of the low. To use a comparison: perhaps this happens because, like that poor boy who begged me for alms, I myself am bullied and overworked. Now I shall express this to you by way of example and allegory, little mother; listen to this: sometimes, my darling, early in the morning when I am hurrying to work, I have occasion to take a glance at the city as it is waking up and getting out of bed, emitting its vapours, seething and rumbling – sometimes this spectacle makes one feel so small that it is though someone had given one a slap on one is inquisitive nose, and one trudges onwards with a shrug of one is shoulders, as quiet as a mouse. Now, just take a look at what is going on in those big, black, sooty buildings, investigate it thoroughly, and you yourself will be able to tell whether I had good reason to class myself as the lowest of the low and to be cast into an undignified state of confusion. Observe, Varenka, that I express myself allegorically, not in a direct sense. Well, let’s take a look: what is there in those buildings? There, in some smoky corner, in some dank bolthole which must out of necessity serve as a lodging, some artisan is waking from slumber; all night he has been dreaming, let us say, of the boots which the day before he inadvertenyly cut a hole in, as though anyone ought to spend a whole night dreaming about such rubbish! But he is an artisan, a cobbler: it is excusable for him to think about his specialty all the time. His children are clamouring and his wife is hungry; and it is not just cobblers who sometimes get out of bed in the morning feeling like that, little mother. That would be of no consequence, and would not be worth writing about; but you see, little mother, there is something else to be taken into account: right there, in the same building, on the storey above or below, in his gilded chambers, a very rich personage has been dreaming in the night about those very same boots – in a different aspect, of course, from a different point of view, but still about those boots; for in the sense I am here implying, little mother, we are all, my darling, to a certain extent cobblers. Even that would be of no consequence, except that it is bad that there should be no one at that very rich personage is side, no one who might whisper in his ear the words: ‘Come now, that is enough of thinking only about this subject, of thinking only about yourself, living only for yourself ; you’re not a cobbler, your children are healthy and your wife isn’t begging for food; take a look around you – can’t you find a more noble subject for your concern than your boots?’ That is what I wanted to say to you in this allegorical manner, Varenka. It is, my dear, possibly too radical a thought, but it is a thought that is sometimes there, that sometimes visits one and then emerges from one is heart in ardent words. And so there was no reason to consider oneself not worth a pinch of salt, and let oneself be frightened by all the noise and thunder! I will conclude, little mother, by supposing you may wonder if I am spouting slander, or have been overtaken by an attack of spleen, or have copied all this out of some book or other. No, little mother, you may dispose of any such illusions: I loathe slander , I haven’t had an attack of spleen, and I didn’t copy this out of any book – so there!","And since there are various different ranks and each rank requires a completely different kind of telling-off, it is natural that the tone of the telling-off varies in rank, too – thatis in the order of things! I mean, it’s what holds the world together, little mother: that we all set the tone for one another, that each of us tells the other off. Without that precaution the world would fall apart and there would be no order anywhere.",0,0.9911527,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 60 It began with the fact that Stepan Trofimovich and I, having appeared at Varvara Petrovna's exactly at twelve o'clock, as she had appointed, did not find her at home; she had not yet returned from mass. My poor friend was in such a mood, or, rather, so upset, that this circumstance immediately overwhelmed him: almost helplessly, he sank into an armchair in the drawing room. No sooner had we sat down than Shatov entered, shown in by the valet, also clearly on official invitation. I offered him a glass of water; but, despite his paleness and even the trembling of his hands, he declined it with dignity. Incidentally, his outfit this time was distinguished by its remarkable elegance: a shirt almost fit for a ball, cambric, embroidered, a white tie, a new hat in his hand, fresh straw-colored gloves, and even just a touch of perfume. Stepan Trofimovich got up to stretch out his hand to him, but Shatov, looking at both of us attentively, turned into a corner, sat down there, and did not even nod his head to us. Stepan Trofimovich again looked at me in fright.","She was on at us every minute of the day; all she ever did was remind us that she was our benefactress. She would introduce us to strangers as her poor relatives, a helpless widow and orphan whom she had given shelter in her home out of mercy, for the sake of Christian charity. At table she would watch every mouthful we took, but if we did not eat, there would be more trouble: she would say that we were turning up our noses at what she offered us, that it was not good enough for us, that we were ungrateful.",0,0.9911527,1
+"lexical = 40, order = 40 Whilst they were drinking wine together, there came in a man, who said, “Great King, at our gate there are two one horned kings, who wish to see you.” The Monkey King said, “Let them come in.” The two kings outside straightened their clothes, entered the cave, kowtowed and said, “We have long heard of the Great King who is in search of worthy officials, but we had no opportunity of meeting him before. Now we have heard that the Great King has been given a post in heaven. He must be pleased, and have come back with honors. So we have come to present him with a yellow robe as a token of congratulation. If he will kindly accept it, please let him use it as he does his horses and dogs.” The Monkey King was very pleased, put on the yellow robe and appointed the demon kings as viceroys under him. What is there to stop you from assuming the rank of the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven?” Hearing this, the demon kings said again, “Great King has such divine powers! Why should you take care of horses for him? “The Jade Emperor belittles the talented,” said the Monkey King. “He only made me something called the BanHorsePlague.” When the Monkey King heard these words, he could not conceal his delight, shouting repeatedly, “Bravo! Bravo!” After expressing their thanks, the demon kings asked again, “Since our Great King was in Heaven for a long time, may we ask what kind of appointment he received?” He ordered his four generals to make him a banner on which was to be written in large letters, “The Great Sage, the Equal of Heaven.” He put up a tall flagstaff and hoisted the banner, and cried, “Henceforth never again call me the Great King, but the Great Sage, the Equal of Heaven. Report this to all the demon chiefs, so that they may know.” The day after the Monkey King had left his post in heaven, when the court was about to assemble, the Master of Ceremonies brought in the two assistant grooms instead of the Horse Master. They knelt before the throne and said, “We beg to say that the new Horse Master, not satisfied with the low position assigned to him, has left Heaven altogether.”","After sweeping the place clean and preparing a place for him to rest, and after kowtowing and doing homage, the four mighty commanders said, “The Great Sage has been living for over a century in Heaven. May we ask what appointment he actually received?” “I recall that it’s been but half a year,” said the Great Sage, laughing. “How can you talk of a century?” “One day in Heaven,” said the commanders, “is equal to one year on Earth.” The Great Sage said, “I am glad to say that the Jade Emperor this time was more favorably disposed toward me, and he did indeed appoint me Great Sage, Equal to Heaven. An official residence was built for me, and two departments—Peace and Quiet, and Serene Spirit—were established, with bodyguards and attendants in each department. Later, when it was found that I carried no responsibility, I was asked to take care of the Garden of Immortal Peaches. Recently the Lady Queen Mother gave the Grand Festival of Immortal Peaches, but she did not invite me. Without waiting for her invitation, I went first to the Jasper Pool and secretly consumed the food and wine.",0,0.99101454,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 But they took him away, and I never saw him again. And now twenty-three years have passed, I am sitting one morning in my office, already with a white head, and suddenly a blossoming young man enters, whom I cannot recognize in any way, but he raised his finger and laughingly says: “Gott der Vater, Gott der Sohn und Gott der heilige Geist! I have just arrived and have come to thank you for a pound of nuts; for no one ever bought me a pound of nuts then, and you alone bought me a pound of nuts. "" And then I remembered my happy youth and the poor boy in the yard without boots, and my heart turned","“Makar Alexyevitch, sir,” said he, “I am not asking for much, but you see it is like this—(then he flushed crimson)—my wife, my children, hungry—if only a ten-kopeck piece.” Well, it sent a twinge to my heart. Why, I thought, they are worse off than I, even. Twenty kopecks was all I had left, and I was reckoning on it. I meant to spend it next day on my most pressing needs. “No, my dear fellow, I can’t, it is like this,” I said.",0,0.9908744,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 40 Maxime checked himself as he was about to make an impertinent remark: he’d been on the point of saying that if she’d waited a month, she’d probably have been right in naming M. de Saffré as her lover. But he satisfied himself with a wicked smile at this nasty thought, tossed his cigar into the fire, and sat down at the other end of the hearth. He talked reason and hinted that they ought to remain good friends. It was pretty in the light of the candelabra, placed on the edge of the fireplace, beside him. She stared at him for a long time, her eyes still swollen with tears. She thought him poor, cramped, contemptible, and she still loved him with that fondness she had for his lace. As he threw back his head, the candlelight gilded his hair, slipped over his face, into the light down of his cheeks, with charming blondness. The stares of the young woman embarrassed him a little, however; he dared not announce his marriage to her. ","Actually, he would gladly have strangled his “dear friend.” He remembered one highly compromising document, a bogus inventory that he had been stupid enough to draw up and that must still be in one of the ledgers.",0,0.9908744,1
+"lexical = 60, order = 100 Steiner was feeling bored. He was telling Fauchery about an affair of that little Madame de Chezelles, whom he referred to simply as Léonide; a hard-boiled bitch, he said, lowering his voice, for they were standing behind the ladies’ chairs. Fauchery looked towards her, oddly perched on a corner of her chair, in her long pale blue satin dress, as slim and bold as any boy and he found himself feeling surprised at seeing her there: guests were better behaved at Caroline Héquet’s, where her mother had set her up impeccably. There was the subject for a whole article there. What an extraordinary world was the Parisian one! That silent Théophile Venot, who contented himself with smiling and showing his bad teeth, was evidently a bequest of the defunct countess, just the same as the elderly ladies, Madame Chantereau, Madame du Joncquoy, and four or five old gentlemen who remained immovable in their corners. The strictest drawing-rooms were becoming invaded. Count Muffat brought some government officials, who affected that correctness of bearing which was the fashion of the Tuileries.ab Amongst others, the head of the department remained seated by himself in the middle of the room, with his clean shaven face and dull-looking eyes, and so tightly buttoned up in his coat that he seemed as though he dare not move. Most of the young men, and a few upper-crust dignitaries, had been introduced by the Marquis de Chouard, who had maintained close contacts with the Legitimists* after he had made his peace with the Second Empire on joining the Conseil d’État. That left Léonide de Chezelles, Steiner, and a whole shady element in stark contrast to that serene and kindly old lady, Madame Hugon. Fauchery, who was already composing his article, decided to call it the ‘Countess Sabine element’.","He was fast becoming a sort of pet vice for which she paid, a necessity of existence it was impossible to do without, seeing that blows only stimulated her desires. He, on his part, seeing what a good tame thing she had become, ended by abusing his privileges. She was getting on his nerves, and he began to conceive so fierce a loathing for her that he forgot to keep count of his real interests. When Bosc made his customary remarks to him he cried out in exasperation, for which there was no apparent cause, that he had had enough of her and of her good dinners and that he would shortly chuck her out of doors if only for the sake of making another woman a present of his seven thousand francs. Indeed, that was how their liaison ended.",0,0.9908744,1
diff --git a/evaluation/tables/robustness_summary.csv b/evaluation/tables/robustness_summary.csv
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..00dfe73740390ae970e3e13222d84d2fcae70432
--- /dev/null
+++ b/evaluation/tables/robustness_summary.csv
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Model,Split,mean_neg_prob,mean_pos_prob,median_neg_prob,median_pos_prob,KS_statistic,KS_p_value,noise_mean_acc,noise_std_acc,noise_mean_f1,noise_std_f1
+Main_Hier,test,0.04507184028625488,0.9831141829490662,0.00018522574100643396,0.9999657869338989,0.9559375,0.0,0.9792304166666668,0.00013952486337567092,0.9844527953126972,0.0001042871009220201
diff --git a/evaluation/tables/significance_tests.csv b/evaluation/tables/significance_tests.csv
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..47235c54f78e45dfb4f7a11f90283ca5987ac1b2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/evaluation/tables/significance_tests.csv
@@ -0,0 +1,4 @@
+Comparison,Delta_F1,p_value,Significant_005
+Main_Hier vs DeBERTa_single,0.01844552680940592,0.0,True
+Main_Hier vs RoBERTa_single,0.022680555168502203,0.0,True
+Main_Hier vs Fusion_NoDis,0.013074139064327972,0.0,True
diff --git a/evaluation/tables/structural_probing.json b/evaluation/tables/structural_probing.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..a8287e0351292909c995ee922955c1b273d831a1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/evaluation/tables/structural_probing.json
@@ -0,0 +1,20 @@
+{
+ "z_lex_vs_lexical_overlap_spearman": 0.47922946593127974,
+ "z_lex_vs_lexical_overlap_pval": 0.0,
+ "z_lex_vs_length_ratio_spearman": 0.4421186338704228,
+ "z_lex_vs_length_ratio_pval": 0.0,
+ "z_syn_vs_lexical_overlap_spearman": 0.532769976054425,
+ "z_syn_vs_lexical_overlap_pval": 0.0,
+ "z_syn_vs_length_ratio_spearman": 0.4493643625740219,
+ "z_syn_vs_length_ratio_pval": 0.0,
+ "z_sem_vs_lexical_overlap_spearman": 0.22826571007995736,
+ "z_sem_vs_lexical_overlap_pval": 1.0401520845752815e-234,
+ "z_sem_vs_length_ratio_spearman": 0.3032353994433464,
+ "z_sem_vs_length_ratio_pval": 0.0,
+ "z_lex_probe_acc": 0.9825,
+ "z_lex_probe_f1": 0.9868421052631579,
+ "z_syn_probe_acc": 0.9825,
+ "z_syn_probe_f1": 0.9868371568258744,
+ "z_sem_probe_acc": 0.9815,
+ "z_sem_probe_f1": 0.9860902255639098
+}
\ No newline at end of file
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new file mode 100644
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