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类型【址:a g 9 559⒐ v i p】1:张发炬 大小:2uwkvAI066058KB 下载:GF1poa8b73912次
版本:v57705 系统:Android3.8.x以上 好评:mytgBUUq94317条
日期:2020-08-05 19:47:29
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兰迪·摩根马

1.【址:a g 9 559⒐ v i p】1  `And you think it's a writer of popular plays that you've got to be?' asked Connie.
2.  And thus far it was a life: in the void. For the rest it was non-existence. Wragby was there, the servants...but spectral, not really existing. Connie went for walks in the park, and in the woods that joined the park, and enjoyed the solitude and the mystery, kicking the brown leaves of autumn, and picking the primroses of spring. But it was all a dream; or rather it was like the simulacrum of reality. The oak-leaves were to her like oak-leaves seen ruffling in a mirror, she herself was a figure somebody had read about, picking primroses that were only shadows or memories, or words. No substance to her or anything...no touch, no contact! Only this life with Clifford, this endless spinning of webs of yarn, of the minutiae of consciousness, these stories Sir Malcolm said there was nothing in, and they wouldn't last. Why should there be anything in them, why should they last? Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. Sufficient unto the moment is the appearance of reality.
3.  He turned his slow, rather full eyes, that had been drowned in such fathomless disillusion, on Connie, and she trembled a little. He seemed so old...endlessly old, built up of layers of disillusion, going down in him generation after generation, like geological strata; and at the same time he was forlorn like a child. An outcast, in a certain sense; but with the desperate bravery of his rat-like existence.
4.  `Why should I?' she asked.
5.  `She's a little thinner,' he said.
6.  When the girls came home for the summer holidays of 1913, when Hilda was twenty and Connie eighteen, their father could see plainly that they had had the love experience.

计划指导

1.  `But isn't there a difference?'
2.  The weather came rainy again. But after a day or two she went out in the rain, and she went to the wood. And once there, she went towards the hut. It was raining, but not so cold, and the wood felt so silent and remote, inaccessible in the dusk of rain.
3.  Clifford, of course, had still many childish taboos and fetishes. He wanted to be thought `really good', which was all cock-a-hoopy nonsense. What was really good was what actually caught on. It was no good being really good and getting left with it. It seemed as if most of the `really good' men just missed the bus. After all you only lived one life, and if you missed the bus, you were just left on the pavement, along with the rest of the failures.
4.  `The game-keeper, Mellors, is a curious kind of person,' she said to Clifford; `he might almost be a gentleman.'
5.  `Nothing else, Sir?' came the neutral voice, like one in a dream.
6.  She looked him in the eyes. His eyes narrowed a little, with irony, perhaps with impudence.

推荐功能

1.  There was Charles May, an Irishman, who wrote scientifically about stars. There was Hammond, another writer. All were about the same age as Clifford; the young intellectuals of the day. They all believed in the life of the mind. What you did apart from that was your private affair, and didn't much matter. No one thinks of inquiring of another person at what hour he retires to the privy. It isn't interesting to anyone but the person concerned.
2.  `More or less! He has a mother in the village...and a child, I believe.'
3.  `There are nice women in the world,' said Connie, lifting her head up and speaking at last.
4.  `With the child?' asked Connie.
5.   `Yes, I think so,' she said.
6.  Connie looked at him amazed: and yet she felt nothing. These men, they were all alike, they left everything out. They just went off from the top of their heads as if they were squibs, and expected you to be carried heavenwards along with their own thin sticks.

应用

1.  In the spell of fine weather Clifford, too, decided to go to the wood. The wind was cold, but not so tiresome, and the sunshine was like life itself, warm and full.
2.  `At the cottage! And would you like to go back to her?'
3.  `How could they make him an officer when he speaks broad Derbyshire?'
4、  `But could you have made money except by plays?' asked Clifford.
5、  `I only called with a message from Sir Clifford,' she said in her soft, rather breathless voice.

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网友评论(5U89Rx7o29225))

  • 杨昊霆 08-04

      `Well, you've got them all,' said Berry.

  • 闫雷 08-04

      `There, there, don't you cry! Tell me what they've done to you!'...an intense tenderness of tone. At the same time she felt in the pocket of her knitted jacket, and luckily found a sixpence.

  • 张锐赵 08-04

       `Well, why then?' she asked.

  • 朴洙贤 08-04

      `Aren't all men wrapped up in themselves?' she asked.

  • 凯瑟琳·泽塔-琼斯 08-03

    {  And he soon became rather superb, somewhat lordly with the nurse. She had rather expected it, and he played up without knowing. So susceptible we are to what is expected of us! The colliers had been so like children, talking to her, and telling her what hurt them, while she bandaged them, or nursed them. They had always made her feel so grand, almost super-human in her administrations. Now Clifford made her feel small, and like a servant, and she accepted it without a word, adjusting herself to the upper classes.

  • 蒋晓亮 08-02

      `I? What am I doing but talking perfectly sincerely to a woman at this moment?'}

  • 伊米尔 08-02

      `Without the spots, of course!' said Clifford.

  • 玛塔·哈莉 08-02

      But her heart sank, she saw how utterly he disliked her, when she went against him. And she saw him in a sort of desperation.

  • 符国瑄 08-01

       Was it just that? She was to be content to weave a steady life with him, all one fabric, but perhaps brocaded with the occasional flower of an adventure. But how could she know what she would feel next year? How could one ever know? How could one say Yes? for years and years? The little yes, gone on a breath! Why should one be pinned down by that butterfly word? Of course it had to flutter away and be gone, to be followed by other yes's and no's! Like the straying of butterflies.

  • 上林二路 07-30

    {  Michaelis obviously wasn't an Englishman, in spite of all the tailors, hatters, barbers, booters of the very best quarter of London. No, no, he obviously wasn't an Englishman: the wrong sort of flattish, pale face and bearing; and the wrong sort of grievance. He had a grudge and a grievance: that was obvious to any true-born English gentleman, who would scorn to let such a thing appear blatant in his own demeanour. Poor Michaelis had been much kicked, so that he had a slightly tail-between-the-legs look even now. He had pushed his way by sheer instinct and sheerer effrontery on to the stage and to the front of it, with his plays. He had caught the public. And he had thought the kicking days were over. Alas, they weren't... They never would be. For he, in a sense, asked to be kicked. He pined to be where he didn't belong...among the English upper classes. And how they enjoyed the various kicks they got at him! And how he hated them!

  • 陶颍 07-30

      `What do you mean?' she asked.

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