The gate was packed with weary travelers, most of them standing and huddled along the walls because the meager allotment of plastic chairs had long since been taken. Every plane that came and went held at least eighty passengers, yet the gate had seats for only a few dozen.　There seemed to be a thousand waiting for the 7 P.M. flight to Miami. They were bundled up and heavily laden, and after fighting the traffic and the check-in and the mobs along the concourse they were subdued, as a whole. It was the Sunday after Thanksgiving, one of the busiest days of the year for air travel, and as they jostled and got pushed farther into the gate many asked themselves, not for the first time, why, ex　

Tales of TroyTales of Troyby Andrew Lang1- Page 2-Tales of TroyTHE BOYHOOD AND PARENTSOF ULYSSESLong ago, in a little island called Ithaca, on the west coast of Greece,there lived a king named Laertes. His kingdom was small andmountainous. People used to say that Ithaca "lay like a shield upon thesea," which sounds as if it were a flat country. But in those times shieldswere very large, and rose at the middle into two peaks with a hollow...　

Book ICHAPTER I.MASLOVA IN PRISON.Though hundreds of thousands had done their very best todisfigure the small piece of land on which they were crowdedtogether, by paying the ground with stones, scraping away everyvestige of vegetation, cutting down the trees, turning away birdsand beasts, and filling the air with the smoke of naphtha andcoal, still spring was spring, even in the town.The sun shone warm, the air was balmy; everywhere, where it didnot get scraped away, the grass revived and sprang up between thepaving-stones as well as on the narrow strips of lawn on theboulevards. The birches, the poplars, and the wild cherryunfolded their gummy and fragrant leaves, the limes were...　

　　　A NOTE ON CHRONOLOGY　A Song of Ice and Fire is told through the eyes of characters who are sometimes hundreds or even thousands of miles apart from one another. Some chapters cover a day, some only an hour; others might span a fortnight, a month, half a year. With such a structure, the narrative cannot be strictly sequential; sometimes important things are happening simultaneously, a thousand leagues apart.　In the case of the volume now in hand, the reader should realize that the opening chapters of A Storm of Swords do not follow the closing chapters of A Clash of Kings so much as overlap them. I open with a look at some of the things that were happening on the Fist of the First Men, at　

　Clinch padded to the kitchen and fixed himself a pot of coffee, four eggs scrambled (with ketchup), a quarter-pound of Jimmy Dean sausage, and two slices of whole-wheat toast with grape jam. As he ate, he listened to the radio for a weather report. The temperature outside was forty-one degrees, humidity thirty-five percent, wind blowing from the northeast at seven miles per hour. According to the weatherman, thick fog lay on the highway between Harney and Lake Jesup. Robert Clinch loved to drive in the fog because it gave him a chance to use the amber fog lights on his new Blazer truck. The fog lights had been a $455 option, and his wife, Clarisse, now asleep in the bedroom, was always bit　

　Kona Weather　　MISS MINERVA WINTERSLIP was a Bostonian in good standing, and long past the romantic age. Yet beauty thrilled her still, even the semi-barbaric beauty of a Pacific island. As she walked slowly along the beach she felt the little catch in her throat that sometimes she had known in Symphony Hall, Boston, when her favorite orchestra rose to some new and unexpected height of loveliness.　It was the hour at which she liked Waikiki best, the hour just preceding dinner and the quick tropic darkness. The shadows cast by the tall cocoanut palms lengthened and deepened, the light of the falling sun flamed on Diamond Head and tinted with gold the rollers sweeping in from the coral reef. 　

380 BCPLUTUSby Aristophanesanonymous translatorCHARACTERS IN THE PLAYCHREMYLUSCARIO, Servant of ChremylusPLUTUS, God of RichesBLEPSIDEMUS, friend of ChremylusPOVERTYWIFE OF CHREMYLUSA JUST MANAN INFORMERAN OLD WOMANA YOUTHHERMESA PRIEST OF ZEUSCHORUS OF RUSTICSPLUTUSPLUTUS(SCENE:-The Orchestra represents a public square in Athens.In the background is the house of CHREMYLUS. A ragged old...　

THE LION AND THE UNICORNTHE LION AND THEUNICORNby RICHARD HARDING DAVIS1- Page 2-THE LION AND THE UNICORNIN MEMORY OF MANY HOT DAYS AND SOME HOTCORNERS THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO LT.-COL. ARTHUR H.LEE, R.A. British Military Attache with the United States Army2- Page 3-THE LION AND THE UNICORNPrentiss had a long lease on the house, and because it stood in Jermyn...　

小说排行榜：www.abada.cn/top.html老子《道德经》相关作品全集：www.abada.cn/zt/daodejingzhushuji/　　　　English_Addis_TTK　　Das　Tao Te King　von　Lao Tse　　Chinese - English by　　Stephen Addiss & Stanley Lombardo, 1993　　1　　Tao called Tao is not Tao. Names can name no lasting name.　　Nameless: the origin of heaven and earth. Naming: the mother of ten thousand things.　　Empty of desire, perceive mystery. Filled with desire, perceive manifestations.　　These have the same source, but different names.　　Call them both deep - Deep and again deep: the gateway to all mystery.　　2　　Recognize beauty and ugliness is born.　　Recognize good and evil is born....　

A Dome of Many-Coloured GlassA Dome of Many-Coloured Glassby Amy Lowell1- Page 2-A Dome of Many-Coloured Glass"Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass, Stains the white radianceof Eternity."Shelley, "Adonais"."Le silence est si grand que mon coeur en frissonne, Seul, le bruit demes pas sur le pave resonne."Albert Samain.2- Page 3-A Dome of Many-Coloured Glass...　

　Chapter one　　He had been walking the dirty streets since twilight first began to gather. The pain streamed like liquid fire through every cell of his body - but he locked it away in a corner of his mind, ignored it, and walked.　There was little to please the eye in his surroundings, and he paid scant attention to them. He was on a small poor unimportant planet whose very name, Coranex, meant nothing to him. But around the spaceport clustered a drab, seedy town, which was a well-known stopover on the main space lanes. It attracted freightermen, traders, wandering technicians, space drifters of every sort. Those were the people he was looking for. Those were the people most likely to pick up　

　　　　The Treloar Building was, and is, on Olive Street, near Sixth, on the west side. The sidewalk in front of it had been built of black and white rubber blocks. They were taking them up now to give to the government, and a hatless pale man with a face like a building superintendent was watching the work and looking as if it was breaking his heart.　　I went past him through an arcade of specialty shops into a vast black and gold lobby. The Gillerlain pany was on the seventh floor, in front, behind swinging double plate glass doors bound in platinum. Their reception room had Chinese rugs, dull silver walls, angular but elaborate furniture, sharp shiny bits of abstract sculpture on pedestals a