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+"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. <sent> “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! </sent> 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!” <sent> 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. </sent>","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! <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> My darling, it is impossible to avoid it; here I am in a bad way, and what if anything were suddenly amiss with you! </sent> 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. <sent> The answer is clear to me now. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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 <sent> 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. </sent> 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 <sent> 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! </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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?’ <sent> Huixiang said, ""Four."" </sent> ‘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. <sent> She seemed to be on fire, and her eyes burned in mine; her whole being seemed consumed by a volcano inside her. </sent> 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? <sent> 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? </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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 <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> A ringleader of mutineers never has anything but an uncertain power in his hands. </sent> 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. <sent> Anyhow, I say what I think, and care very little whether other people agree with me. </sent> 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 – <sent> 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. </sent> – 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. <sent> 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.’ </sent>","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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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 <sent> 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. </sent>","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? <sent> Well, I could not be responsible for the fact that she was unfamiliar with that procedure. </sent> 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. <sent> 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!” </sent> 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 <sent> , 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.’ </sent>","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!” <sent> Oh! </sent> “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?” <sent> And that's exactly what we are now! </sent>",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. <sent> "" </sent> 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. <sent> They see him as more worthy, but I wonder what your opinion is?’ </sent> 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. <sent> 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? </sent> ‘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 ... <sent> 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. </sent> 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! <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> Because why should I subscribe for nothing? </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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?” <sent> 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. </sent> “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. <sent> 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. </sent>","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 <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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."" </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> 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! </sent>","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. <sent> It strikes me as improbable, impossible. </sent> 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. <sent> “Do you want the girls bothering you?” </sent> 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. <sent> I have captured him four times now, how can I see you again?"" </sent> 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! <sent> Jealous of whom: of Büring, of Versilov? </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> What exactly is a doppelgänger? </sent> 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. <sent> Now you can look to your heart’s content. </sent> 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! <sent> 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? </sent> 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. <sent> “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. </sent> 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 <sent> Spring hatred and autumn sorrow are all self-inflicted, and who is the beauty of the flower and the moon?"" </sent>","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. <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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? <sent> 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? </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent>","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!"" <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> As the young man did not always laugh, the old woman's song reached the priest in tatters. It was something unintelligible and awful. </sent>","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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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, <sent> oh yes, he was in earnest; I know a bit about these things. </sent> 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. <sent> But we had to have clothes; we had to lay by for unforeseen expenses; it was absolutely necessary to have money of our own. </sent> 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. <sent> 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.… </sent>","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.' ' <sent> 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. </sent>",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 <sent> 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? </sent>","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)? <sent> , 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. </sent> 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. <sent> I have given my word… I won’t lie. </sent>",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 <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> But maybe it is she herself and nothing has happened.’ ‘I must have killed her! </sent> 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! <sent> We must admit that this world is a strange thing. O Pangloss! Pangloss! how glad you would be if you had not been hanged! » </sent>","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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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.” <sent> But there are other supplications which voice a strange, hoarse, unaccustomed note, like that today when I took the poor boy’s paper. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> He would wilfully proceed to his own destruction. In this respect, he was really quite frightening—and very impressive. </sent> 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... <sent> I firmly believe that. The Lord can’t want this—He knows what He’s doing. </sent> 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. <sent> , that was necessary, nothing else was necessary. </sent>",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. <sent> And what is wrong with that? He tried to make up for this defect by wearing high heels. </sent> 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. <sent> Anyhow, his servants were not angered by it. </sent>","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 <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> 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! </sent> 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! <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> 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! </sent>","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! <sent> Now that’s all over and done with. Now I am…” Yes, yes, there was a time when I was very well off. </sent> 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 <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> this will sooner or later get revenge, which Zoltán Pataki, who is so sober and financially homely, already sees clearly. </sent>",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 <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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? <sent> If you hadn’t said so, I should never have thought so.’ </sent>","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? <sent> 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.’ </sent> 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? <sent> 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! </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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?” <sent> (Raskolnikov didn’t even think of laughing: he sat with his lips pressed together, never taking his inflamed gaze off Porfiry Petrovich’s eyes.) </sent> “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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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.” <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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? </sent> 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 <sent> I beg you, don’t mention this again, for your sake as well as mine. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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! <sent> you, the son of Monsieur le Baron! </sent> 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?"" <sent> 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.” </sent> 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!’ <sent> 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."" </sent> 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. <sent> ""It lies with you to choose between them. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent>","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? <sent> The book in the secret collection of the prime minister, although it has been completed, has not been passed on to the world. </sent> “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! <sent> She had a white dress and a red parasol. I could have gobbled her up. I could have licked her all over. </sent> 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! <sent> “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. </sent> 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? <sent> He imagined that people were talking about him behind his back—maligning him, he said. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> “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. <sent> “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. </sent> 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?” <sent> What is the world? A vale of sorrows. </sent> ‘ 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 <sent> “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.” </sent> “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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent>",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. <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> 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. </sent>","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 <sent> 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. </sent> 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 . . .” <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> He did not love priests and monks very much - they were dear friends, he thought. </sent> 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] <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> . and I forgive you.’ Here are the pistols. I've come to discharge my pistol, and . . </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> What is good? What is bad? Why live, and what am I? What should one love, what hate? </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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 <sent> ""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? </sent>","‘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 <sent> 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. </sent> 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 <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> What does it look like? what? as? Ah, my fathers! </sent> 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.” <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> Somehow the matter touched Samsonov: "" Everything happened because of me. "" </sent> 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. <sent> His breastplate emits eye-dazzling light. His boots of suede Are dyed by locust flowers. His embroidered kilt Is decked with willow leaves. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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 <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> Out she came with her subterfuge: “This is my ancestral home. </sent> 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. <sent> I certainly wished for no other mentor. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> Just things also have a special appearance and I have to admit that your business doesn't have that. </sent> 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. <sent> 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 </sent> 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! <sent> Trifles have an enormous value, for Christ’s </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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! <sent> “It’s not that long!” said the Great Sage. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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? <sent> 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? </sent> 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 <sent> ‘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. </sent> 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 <sent> 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. </sent> 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? <sent> finally to caress the serpent that devours us, until it has eaten our hearts? </sent>","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. ‘ <sent> 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.) </sent> 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. <sent> The Amphictyons had two sessions a year, one at Delphi, place of the gods, the other at Thermopylæ, place of the heroes. </sent> 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! <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> He seized on the Master and dragged him beneath, calling out, “Come, all of you! </sent> “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. <sent> 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.” </sent> 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 <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> There wasn’t only the atmosphere of water and hummingbird there, there was also that of snail and toad. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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 ... <sent> What an ironic fellow you are! </sent> 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 <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> 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. </sent>",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. ‘ <sent> - 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. ] </sent> 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. <sent> 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? </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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… <sent> He may get over it, but there's not much hope... </sent> 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!' <sent> “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. </sent> 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. <sent> Indeed, so panic-stricken was I, that my teeth were chattering and my knees knocking together. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> “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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> 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. </sent>","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! <sent> ‘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 </sent> 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. <sent> - What do you want? </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> "" 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> It read: “If a deception, then calm contempt, and leave. If it is true, then observe the decency. "" </sent>","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). <sent> 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, </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> Perhaps he would gain an opportunity to meet the prince, later on. </sent>","But with good credit, you might find exactly what you need.",1,0.07477005,0
+"lexical = 0, order = 40 <sent> 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.” </sent>","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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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 <sent> “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! </sent> 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.” <sent> “In my mother’s chapel!” </sent> 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? <sent> 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 ... </sent> 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? <sent> Receiving no answer, however, he quickly adds: “No, do not reply, keep silent. You?” </sent> 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 <sent> 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? </sent> 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, <sent> 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. </sent> 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! <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> 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! </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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! </sent> 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. <sent> ‘Reading, Mme Cottard replied in her artless way. </sent> - 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. <sent> - What do you want? </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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! <sent> I have here a letter from Christine (Persan collection) which relates to the events of that time. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent>","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! - <sent> And the spectators who stood around watching, the din they created, had also increased. </sent>",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. <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> In fact, I have no intention of going there again, since every one is for gambling, and for nothing but gambling. </sent> 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 <sent> 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. </sent> 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?” <sent> "" 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. </sent> 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.” <sent> ""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. </sent> ‘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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> Old Prince II died. </sent> 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! <sent> My spouse in bed! And in such weather! My only chair has no seat! A broken pane! </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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.’ </sent> 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? <sent> No, that was certainly not it, that couldn’t be . . . </sent> 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. <sent> "" 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."" </sent>","“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? <sent> 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? </sent> 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 <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> —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. </sent>","“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. <sent> No! The execution had not taken place! </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent>","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 <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> We have come, therefore, to present the Great King with a red and yellow robe for his celebration. </sent> 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? <sent> 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.” </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> “It is because you have always looked at me in your twisted way,” she said reproachfully, “that you can say such things.” </sent>",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! ... <sent> 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 </sent> , 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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 </sent> , 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. <sent> “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. </sent> 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! <sent> What Sabaneyev?"" </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent>","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? <sent> Asked for a bonus I did not deserve? </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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! </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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."" <sent> 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 ? </sent>","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. <sent> 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? </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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 <sent> 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. - </sent> 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! <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> And where would you be off to, my man? </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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! <sent> 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. </sent>","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? <sent> You astonish me!"" Didn't you really know it all before? </sent>","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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> And at the very same time was Master Tielman Picquet, one of the Players of that Game of Musse </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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! <sent> 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! </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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!” </sent> 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! <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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, <sent> For you, it would be a crime. </sent> 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? <sent> 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? </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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 . . .” <sent> 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 ... </sent> . . 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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 <sent> 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.” </sent> “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. <sent> I could have had him packed off to Siberia for that , it’s sheer sacrilege. Listen, eyesore!” </sent> 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!' <sent> . . 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 . </sent> 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. <sent> 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! </sent>","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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> He was also upset by the troubling footsteps and muted voices that his ear, accustomed to the constant silence, heard outside the door. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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! </sent> 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 <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> ""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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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! <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> ""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? <sent> And you know it was my idea. </sent> 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 <sent> 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! </sent>","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. <sent> She published novels, written under a bizarre pseudonym, in various family magazines. </sent> - 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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.' <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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.” <sent> The Monkey said, “In the world after death, in the ancient depths of the Eternal Mountain.” The king asked, “Where do they live?” </sent> 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. <sent> 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! </sent> 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! <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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… <sent> - 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> ‘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?’ </sent> ‘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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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! <sent> - 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! </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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! <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> He brought me and Sasha gingerbread cockerels, apples, and everything used to talk with us about Petenka. </sent> 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. <sent> 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!"" </sent>","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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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! </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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.” <sent> 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. "" </sent> “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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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? <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> To produce an effect is rapture to them; romantic provincial ladies go crazy over them. </sent> 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!"" <sent> 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. </sent> 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? <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> Everyone in the house was in alarm. Anna Fyodorovna kept praying that God would take him more quickly. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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? <sent> 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. </sent> 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 <sent> 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. ‘ </sent>","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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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. <sent> 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?” </sent> 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. <sent> 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. </sent>","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. <sent> 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. </sent> 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