The Second Thoughts of an Idle Fellow

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I was told that if I were a good lad, kept my hair tidy, and did not tease the cat, I would probably, when I died, go to a place where all day long I would sit still and sing hymns.  (Think of it! as reward to a healthy boy for being good.)  There would be no breakfast and no dinner, no tea and no supper.  One old lady cheered me a little with a hint that the monotony might be broken by a little manna; but the idea of everlasting manna palled upon me, and my suggestions, concerning the possibilities of sherbet or jumbles, were scouted as irreverent.  There would be no school, but also there would be no cricket and no rounders.

 

Jerome K. Jerome

La notte, Io e l’ombra mia

Mi è avvenuto più volte, svegliandomi nel cuor della notte (la notte, in questo caso, non dimostra veramente d’aver cuore), mi è avvenuto di provare al bujo, nel silenzio, una strana meraviglia, uno strano impaccio al ricordo di qualche cosa fatta durante il giorno, alla luce, senz’abbadarci; e ho domandato allora a me stesso se, a determinar le nostre azioni, non concorrano anche i colori, la vista delle cose circostanti, il vario frastuono della vita. Ma sì, senza dubbio; e chi sa quant’altre cose! Non viviamo noi, secondo il signor Anselmo, in relazione con l’universo? Ora sta a vedere quante sciocchezze questo maledetto universo ci fa commettere, di cui poi chiamiamo responsabile la misera coscienza nostra, tirata da forze esterne, abbagliata da una luce che è fuor di lei. E, all’incontro, quante deliberazioni prese, quanti disegni architettati, quanti espedienti macchinati durante la notte non appajono poi vani e non crollano e non sfumano alla luce del giorno? Com’altro è il giorno, altro la notte, così forse una cosa siamo noi di giorno, altra di notte: miserabilissima cosa, ahimè, così di notte come di giorno.

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Il fu Mattia Pascal

 Luigi Pirandello

 

Gerda’s garden

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“What! are there no roses here?” cried Gerda, and she ran out into the garden and examined all the beds, and searched and searched.

There was not one to be found. Then she sat down and wept, and her tears fell just on the place where one of the rose trees had sunk down.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Snow Queen

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There is only one person in the entire house who is not ordinary and that is Karlsson-on-the-Roof.
karlsson flying
He lives  on the roof, Karlsson does. This alone is out of the ordinary. Things may be different in other parts of the world, but in Stockholm people hardly ever live in a little house of their own on top of a roof. But Karlsson does. He is a very small, very round, and very self-possessed gentleman – and he can fly! Anybody can fly by airplane or helicopter, but only Karlsson can fly all by himself. He simply turns a button in the middle of his tummy and, presto, the cunning little engine on his back starts up. Karlsson waits for a moment or two to let the engine warm up; then he accelerates, takes off, and glides on his way with all the dignity and poise of a statesman; that is, if you can picture a statesman with a motor on his back.
Astrid Lindgren