Hugo Les Misérables
Part 2 Cosette Volume 3 Fulfilling his promise to the dead Chapter 5 The lonely little girl
(mainly three, four, five paragraphs of the psychological, action description of Cosette, attached the first two paragraphs is to explain the background, and the description is also very good)
Darkness makes the heart palpitate at the sight of the darkness. psychological, action description, attached to the first two paragraphs is to explain the background, and the description is also very good)
The darkness makes one palpitate at the sight of it. One must have light. Anyone who enters a place where there is no light will feel anxious. The mind also loses its peace when the eyes see darkness. When the moon eclipses and the night is dark, even the most hardy person feels uneasy. Darkness and woods are two unfathomable things. Our fantasies often assume that there is reality in the murky depths. There is something inscrutable that can appear clear and realistic just a few paces in front of your eyes. We often see a vague, unattainable, ethereal vision floating in space or in our own minds. There are often startling images in the sky. We often smell the scent of space in the darkness. We feel fear and want to look behind ourselves. The emptiness of the night, the menacing shapes, the silently approaching silhouettes that come to nothing, the straggling black shadows, the swaying trees, the pools of dead color, the haunted realms of gloom, the silence of the grave, the ghostly apparitions that may be there, the mysterious drooping branches of the trees, the oddly ghastly bare trees, the clumps of weeds that cringe in the wind, all these things one can't resist, and the boldest man trembles, and feels a sense of impending disaster. Even the bold will tremble, and there will be a sense of impending disaster. One feels as if one's soul were frozen with the darkness. For a child, the encroachment of that darkness can be an unspeakable horror.
The forest is a haunted palace, and the sound of a small bird's winging under its ghostly vault can be chilling.
Cosette did not understand what she was feeling, she only felt herself in the grip of that infinite darkness of the universe. She was feeling more than terror, but something more than terror. She winced. The shivers chilled her all the way to her heart, and there were no words to express that strange taste. She opened one eye in consternation. It was as if she felt she had to come back here again tomorrow night at this very moment.
So, by a kind of instinct, in order to escape from a situation which she did not understand and which frightened her, she counted aloud one, two, three, four, up to ten, and when she had finished counting, she began again. She did that to give herself a real sense of what was going on around her. She began to feel the coldness in her hands, which she had gotten wet first while fetching water. She stood up. She was afraid again, and it was a natural, uncontrollable fear. She had only one thought: to run away, to pull her legs out and fly, through the woods, through the fields, to a place where there were homes, windows, and candlelight. She looked down and saw the bucket of water. She dared not flee without that bucket of water; the Dame Denardi's might was too terrible. She took the carrying beam on the bucket in both hands and it took all her strength to lift that bucket of water.
She made it roughly a dozen steps that way, but the bucket was so full and heavy that she had to set it down again. She caught her breath and lifted the bucket again and walked forward, this time for a longer time. But she had to stop again. After resting for a few seconds, she walked again. She walked, bent over, head down, like an old woman, the weight of the bucket pulling her skinny arms straight and stiff, and the iron girder on the bucket freezing her wet hands to the bone. She had to walk and stop, and every time she stopped, some of the water from the bucket always splashed on her bare legs. Those things happened deep in the woods, at night, in winter, out of sight of human eyes, and to a child of eight.
Part 5 Jean Valjean Volume 9 The Last Darkness, the Sublime Dawn Chapter 05 Beyond the Night There is Daybreak
(A paragraph depicting Jean Valjean's deathbed, I've intercepted two parts, the first in particular is very good, note Valjean's words)
Vean Valjean looks almost constantly at Cosette, quietly at Marius and the doctor. We hear slurred words coming out of his mouth like this:
"To die is not a thing; what is terrible is not to live."
Suddenly he rose to his feet, and this recovery of strength is sometimes the struggle of the dying. He walked steadily to the wall, pushed Marius and the doctor away who tried to help him, took down the brass cross which hung on the wall, and coming back to sit down with as much freedom of movement as when he was in perfect health, he laid the cross on the table and said in a loud voice:
"This is the great martyr."
Then his chest sagged, his head shook a little as if the intoxication of the tomb had overtaken him, and his hands, resting on his knees, began to pick at the cloth of his pants with their fingernails.
............
Bit by bit Jean Valjean was failing, he was constantly weakening, and he was nearing the darkness of the sky. His breath had broken off; a sort of rattling in his throat was cutting off the breath at intervals, it had become difficult to move his upper arms, and he could no longer move his feet, and as his limbs failed and his body grew more and more exhausted, the solemn soul was rising and had shown itself on his forehead. The light of the unknown world had appeared in his eyes.
His face gradually lost its color, but still wore a smile; life was over and there was something else. His breathing was interrupted, his eyes widened, and one felt that it was a body with wings
The Dream of the Red Chamber
The third time, entrusting the inner brother, Ruhai, to recommend the western guest, receiving the grandson, Jia mother, to cherish the orphaned daughter
(the classic paragraph of Bao Dai's first meeting, the first paragraph is the psychology of Daiyu's viewpoint, and the second paragraph is the psychology of Baoyu's viewpoint)
Before a single sentence is spoken, only to hear the sound of a footstep outside. The maid came in and reported, "Baoyu is here." Daiyu thought to herself, "I don't know what kind of a lazy person this Baoyu is. To come in to take a look, but a young man: head wearing hair embedded treasure purple gold crown, eyebrows with two dragons playing beads gold forehead, a two-color gold butterflies through the flowers of the big red arrow sleeves, bundled with a colorful silk knot long spikes Palace tapestry, outside the cover stone green flower eight groups of Japanese satin rows of spikes lab coat, boarding the green satin pink-soled small boots. Face like the moon in mid-autumn, color like the flowers of spring dawn, sideburns like a knife cut, eyebrows like ink painting, nose like hanging gall, eyes like autumn waves, although angry sometimes like a smile, that is? The eyes are like waves of autumn, although angry and like a smile, that is? Golden chi dragon tassel on the neck, and a five-color silk tape, tied with a piece of jade. Daiyu at first sight will eat a big surprise, the heart thought: "so strange, like there have seen, how familiar!"
............
Baoyu has long seen a slinky daughter, it is expected to be the daughter of Lin aunt, busy to meet the salute. Returned to sit and look carefully, really different from the crowd. Just see:
Two curved like knit non-knit eyebrows, a pair of like happy non-happy eyes. The state of the two nightmares of the sadness, the delicate attack on a body of the disease. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands dirty. Idle like a delicate flower in the water, action like a weak willow to help the wind. The heart is more than the Bikan more than a hole, the disease as the West is better than three points.
Baoyu read it, laughed: "This sister I have seen." Jia mother laughed: "again nonsense, how have you ever seen?" Baoyu laughed: "Although I have not seen, but look at the face of good, the heart is like a far away reunion in general." Jia mother laughed: "good, good! So more harmonious."
The 62nd time, the naive Xiangyun drunkenly sleeps in the peony?
The sixty-second naive Xiangling love to solve the pomegranate skirt
(more classic Xiangyun drunken lying)
Said, all walk to see, I saw Xiangyun lying in the rocky mountain secluded a stone stone stone step, industry through the fragrant dream sound. The four sides of the peony flowers flew all over the head and face on the lapel are red incense scattered. The fan in the hands of the ground, also half buried by the falling flowers, a group of bees and butterflies clamoring around. And with a shark's handkerchief wrapped a packet of peony petals pillow. The people saw, and is love, and is laughing, busy up to push call to help. Xiang Yun's mouth is still sleepy language said wine order, muttered: "spring fragrance wine is cold, ...... drunken help return, it is appropriate to meet friends and relatives." The crowd laughed and pushed him and said: "Quickly wake up, eat to go. This tide cliffs also sleep out of the disease!" Xiang Yun slowly opened the autumn wave, saw the crowd, and looked down at himself, and realized that he was drunk.
Sixty-five Jia Ershe secretly married You Er Aunt You Sanjie thought of marrying Liu Erlang
(The style of the third sister jumped out of the paper)
I saw this third sister simply removed her makeup, took off her big clothes, and loosely pulled a? Suddenly up and sit, suddenly happy and angry, not half a moment of gentle, two pendants and swinging in general. Under the lights, the more seemingly willow eyebrows cage Cui, sandalwood mouth with Dan, this is a pair of autumn water eyes, and then ate a few cups of wine, more and more horizontal wave into the temples, turn the hope of the flow of light: really make that JIA Zhen two can not be close to the desire to be far away, disoriented trance, downright salivation. Plus just a word, straight to the two forbidden. Brothers and sisters can not even a little for, not to mention flirting fight articulate, even a loud words are gone. The third sister of her own talk, spend money at will, village gossip, sprinkle a while, by the nature of his brothers and sisters to take ridicule for fun. A moment, his wine enough to enjoy the end, more not allow his brothers to sit down more, but even threw out, their own closed door to go to sleep.
Jane Eyre, Chapter 23
(The front is all padding, in fact, just want to put on that last paragraph, that is the most classic ......)
I almost did not realize that I said this, tears can not help but come out of their eyes. But I didn't cry out, and I avoided sobbing. My heart was half-cold at the thought of Mrs. Ogall and the village of Bitterfruit; it was colder still at the thought of the sea and waves that were destined to churn between me and the master who was at this moment walking alongside of me; and it was cooler still at the remembrance of the vast ocean of wealth, class, and custom that lay between me and that which I naturally and inevitably loved.
"It is far from here," I added.
"Add this indeed. When you get to the bitter-fruit village of Connaught, Ireland, I shall never see you again, and surely that is the way it is. I never go to Ireland because I don't like the country much myself. We have been good friends, Jane, don't you think?"
"Yes, sir."
"Friends, on the eve of parting, often like to spend the few remaining hours intimately. Come - while the stars are twinkling brightly in yonder sky, let us spend half an hour or so talking calmly about the voyage and the parting. Here is a seven-leaved tree, and over here a bench round the old roots. Come, let us sit here in peace to-night, though we are destined never to sit together again in the future." He motioned for me to sit down, and then sat down himself.
"It's a long way from here to Ireland, Janet, and I'm sorry to send my little friend on such a present-day tiresome journey. But what is to be done if there is no better idea? Jane, do you think there is any resemblance between you and me?"
At this I did not dare to answer, for I was inwardly agitated.
"Because," he said, "sometimes I have a strange feeling about you-especially when you are near me as you are now. It's as if there's a string on the left side of my ribs, a string similar to the one in the same part of your tiny frame that's tightly sustained and hard to separate. If the roaring channel and two hundred miles or so of land separate us far apart, I fear that this string of emotional communion will break, and so I am uneasy at the thought that I will bleed inside. As for you-you would forget me."
"Then I never will, sir, you know--" I could not possibly say more.
"Jane, hear the nightingale singing in the forest? --Listen!"
I sobbed and sobbed as I listened, and could no longer restrain the feelings I had forced myself to let out. I was trembling with pain. When it came time to finally speak, I was then left to express one impulsive wish: I wished I had never been born and had never been to Thornfield.
"Sad because you're leaving?"
The intensity of the emotions that grief and love had fanned within me were prevailing and striving to dominate everything, to overwhelm everything, to triumph over everything, to demand to survive, to expand, and ultimately to dominate everything, and good - and to spit it out.
"I was sad to leave Thornfield, and I loved Thornfield - I loved it because I lived a full and enjoyable life here - at least for a while. I have not been trampled upon, nor made antiquated and rigid, nor mingled among men of low ambition, nor been excluded from every opportunity of associating with bright, wholesome, noble minds. I have talked face to face with the man I honor, with the man I love,-with the same unique, active, and generous mind. I have become acquainted with you, Mr. Rochester, and the imposition of a permanent separation from you has caused me fear and pain. I see the necessity of separation as I see the necessity of death."
"Where did you see it?" He asked fiercely.
"Where? You, sir, have laid that necessity before me."
"What kind of necessity?"
"It is the likeness of Miss Ingram, a noble and beautiful woman-your bride."
"My bride! What bride? I have no bride!"
"But you will have one."
"Yes, I will! I will!" He gritted his teeth.
"Then I must go-you have said so yourself."
"No, you must stay! I swear - I keep my vows."
"I told you I have to go!" I retorted, my feelings very slightly impulsive. "Did you think that I would stay and willingly be a person of no importance to you? Do you think I am a machine? --A machine without feelings? A machine that can tolerate someone snatching a mouthful of bread out of my mouth and spilling a drop of life-giving water out of my cup? Am I soulless and heartless because I'm penniless, unknown, mediocre-looking and small? --Don't you think wrong? --My heart is as rich as yours, my mind as full as yours! If God had given me a bit of poise and plenty of wealth, I would have made you as inseparable as I am now, and I would have spoken to you not according to custom, or routine, or even flesh and blood, but my soul would have conversed with yours, as if we had both passed through the grave, and stood at God's feet, equal to each other-as it was! "