我的文学网
句子首页
诗词古文
书籍摘抄
影视台词
名人名言
网络语录
用户原创
注册
登录
选择频道
文章
汉字
句子
诗词
人物
图书
词语
搜索
搜索结果
按时间
按热度
按评论
按分数
按支持量
How to Be Alone
“On the other hand, some of the family’s impatience with the public is justified. When I use Federal Express, I accept as a condition of business that its standardized forms must be filled out in printed letters. An e-mail address off by a single character goes nowhere. Transposing two digits in a phone number gets me somebody speaking heatedly in Portuguese. Electronic media tell you instantly when you’ve made an error; with the post office, you have to wait. Haven’t we all at some point tested its humanity? I send mail to friends in Upper Molar, New York (they live in Upper Nyack), and expect a stranger to laugh and deliver it in forty-eight hours. More often than not, the stranger does. With its mission of universal service, the Postal Service is like an urban emergency room contractually obligated to accept every sore throat, pregnancy, and demented parent that comes its way. You may have to wait for hours in a dimly lit corridor. The staff may be short-tempered and dilatory. But eventually you will get treated. In the Central Post Office’s Nixie unit—where mail arrives that has been illegibly or incorrectly addressed—I see street numbers in the seventy thousands; impossible pairings of zip codes and streets; addresses without a name, without a street, without a city; addresses that consist of the description of a building; addresses written in water-based ink that rain has blurred. Skilled Nixie clerks study the orphans one at a time. Either they find a home for them or they apply that most expressive of postal markings, the vermilion finger of accusation that lays the blame squarely on you, the sender.”
Post Office
Emergency Room
Renoir's Dancer: The Secret Life of Suzanne Valadon
“Rodolphe Salis was a tall, red-headed bohemian with a coppery beard and boundless charisma. He had tried and failed to make a success of several different careers, including painting decorations for a building in Calcutta. But by 1881 he was listless and creatively frustrated, uncertain where his niche might lie. More pressingly, he was desperate to secure a steady income. But then he had the ingenious idea to turn the studio which he rented, a disused post office on the resolutely working-class Boulevard de Rochechouart, into a cabaret with a quirky, artistic bent. He was not the first to attempt such a venture: La Grande Pinte on the Avenue Trudaine had been uniting artists and writers to discuss and give spontaneous performances for several years. But Salis was determined that his initiative would be different – and better. A fortuitous meeting ensured that it was.
Poet Émile Goudeau was the founder of the alternative literary group the Hydropathes (‘water-haters’ – meaning that they preferred wine or beer). After meeting Goudeau in the Latin Quarter and attending a few of the group’s gatherings, Salis became convinced that a more deliberate form of entertainment than had been offered at La Grande Pinte would create a venue that was truly innovative – and profitable. The Hydropathe members needed a new meeting place, and so Salis persuaded Goudeau to rally his comrades and convince them to relocate from the Latin Quarter to his new
cabaret artistique
. They would be able to drink, smoke, talk and showcase their talents and their wit. Targeting an established group like the Hydropathes was a stroke of genius on Salis’s part. Baptising his cabaret Le Chat Noir after the eponymous feline of Edgar Allan Poe’s story, he made certain that his ready-made clientele were not disappointed.
Everything about the ambience and the decor reflected Salis’s unconventional, anti-establishment approach, an ethos which the Hydropathes shared. A seemingly elongated room with low ceilings was divided in two by a curtain. The front section was larger and housed a bar for standard customers. But the back part of the room (referred to as ‘L’Institut’) was reserved exclusively for artists. Fiercely proud of his locality, Salis was adamant that he could make Montmartre glorious. ‘What is Montmartre?’ Salis famously asked. ‘Nothing. What should it be? Everything!’ Accordingly, Salis invited artists from the area to decorate the venue. Adolphe Léon Willette painted stained-glass panels for the windows, while Théophile-Alexandre Steinlen created posters. And all around, a disorientating mishmash of antiques and bric-a-brac gave the place a higgledy-piggledy feel. There was Louis XIII furniture, tapestries and armour alongside rusty swords; there were stags’ heads and wooden statues nestled beside coats of arms. It was weird, it was wonderful and it was utterly bizarre – the customers loved it.”
Poe
Paris
Montmartre
Le Chat Noir
Now What? I Got a Tax Notice from the IRS. Help!: Defining and deconstructing the scary and confusing letters that land in your mailbox.
“Many people remember to include miles to their clients or vendors. However, what about those trips to the office supply store, bank, post office? These miles add up. Do not forget the miles!”
Knowledge
Wisdom
Taxes
Enrolled Agent
Irs
Ea
Now What Help
Mileage
Ctrs
Tax Tips
Post Office
“كما قال العاملون في المحطة، "عليك أن تعمل في مكانٍ ما". لذلك تقبلوا ما كان. تلك حكمة العبد ص 232”
الظلم
العبودية
الديكتاتورية
الطغيان
السخرة
Post Office
“أحتاج إلى امرأة شابة، أيها الطبيب. تلك هي مشكلتي ص 238”
السعادة
البهجة
الحب
الأنثى
النساء
المرأة
Post Office
“بوكوفسكي: "انتقل إلى غرفة صغيرة واكتب"
جانكوا: "لكنني بحاجة إلى ضمانات"
بوكوفسكي: "من حسن الحظّ أن هناك أشخاصًا لم يفكروا مثلك. من حسن الحظ أن فان غوخ لم يفكر مثلك"
جانكوا: " فان غوخ وهبه أخوه معدات الرسم مجانًا" ص 171”
الإبداع
الرعاية
الموهبة
الاحتضان
Post Office
“من يراهن كثيراً يخسر حصانه ص 154”
الخسارة
الفوز
Post Office
“كيف يمكن أن أعمل 12 ساعة ليلًا، وأنام، وأتناول الطعام، وأستحم، وأسافر ذهابًا وإيابًا، وأهتم بغسيل الملابس والغاز، والإيجار، وتغيير الإطارات، وأقوم بكل الأشياء الصغيرة التي لا بد من القيام بها وأدرس الجداول ؟" سألت أحد المدربين في غرفة الجداول.
"تدبر بدون نوم" قال لي
نظرت إليه. لم يضحك. كان الأحمق جادًا تمامًا فيما يقول ص 134”
الظلم
العبودية
الديكتاتورية
الطغيان
السخرة
Post Office
“كل العباقرة سكارى ص 131”
العبقرية
Post Office
“خلقت النساء من أجل المعاناة، لا عجب أنهن يطالبن بالحب على الدوام ص 198”
الحب
الألم
الأنثى
النساء
المعاناة
المرأءة
Post Office
“لا تحب المرأة أن تكون في المرتبة الثانية ص 161”
الأنثى
النساء
المرأة
Post Office
“الصورة الأبدية، النساء وصورهن. نفس الحكاية مرارًا وتكرارًا ص 158”
الأنثى
النساء
المرأة
Post Office
“النساء يهوين نشر الغسيل الوسخ، مع بعض الصراخ، وبعض الدراما. ثم يحين دور تبادل وعود الإخلاص. لم اُجِد يومًا فن تبادل وعود الإخلاص ص 157”
الأنثى
النساء
المرأءة
Post Office
“عندما عادت "بيتي" لم نغن ولم نضحك، ولم نناقش شيئًا. جلسنا نشرب في الظلام، وندخن السجائر، ثم خلدنا للنوم، لم أضع قدمي على جسدها ولم تمدد ساقها فوق جسدي كما اعتقدنا. نمنا دون أن نتلامس
شيءٌ ما سُرق منا كلينا ص 127”
الحب
الزواج
الطلاق العاطفي
Post Office
“الأكل مفيد للأعصاب والروح، الشجاعة تأتي من البطن - أما الباقي فيأس ص 87”
الإكتئاب
Post Office
“لم أحب الرجل بشكلٍ خاص. لم تكن حياته جريئة، خلاصة الأمر كان صفرًا. لكن كل مرة رأيته يتعثر، شيءٌ ما تحرك بي. بدا مثل حصان مخلص لم يستطع السير اكثر. أو مثل سيارة قديمة، ببساطة تخليت عنها في صباح أحد الأيام ص 68”
الرجولة
الشجاعة
الجرأة
السخرة
Post Office
“في اللحظة التي فكرت فيها أن استقيل، كان شعوري أفضل بكثير ص 44”
الظلم
العبودية
الديكتاتورية
الطغيان
السخرة
Post Office
“سالتني: "ألا تحب أن تدخل وتتناول كأسًا من الشاي وتنشف نفسك ؟"
"سيدتي، ألا تدركين أننا حتى لا نملك وقتًا لرفع سراويلنا ؟"
"رفع سراويلكم ؟" ص 43”
الظلم
العبودية
الديكتاتورية
الطغيان
Post Office
“المناوبون أنفسهم جعلوا من جونستون شخصًا محتملًا من خلال طاعة أوامره التي لا تُحتمل، لم أفهم كيف يمكن السماح لشخصٍ بهذه القسوة الواضحة أن يكون في منصبه ص 32”
الظلم
العبودية
الديكتاتورية
الطغيان
Post Office
“كانت رائعة. وكانت مجامعتها جيدة، لكن ككل جماع، بدأت افقد الاهتمام بعد ثالث أو رابع ليلة، ولم أعد ص 30”
الجنس
الرجل
الزواج
العلاقات
“To disguise nothing, to conceal nothing, to write about those things that are closest to our pain, our happiness; to write about our sexual clumsiness, the agonies of Tantalus, the depth of our discouragement—what we glimpse in our dreams—our despair. To write about the foolish agonies of anxiety, the refreshment of our strength when these are ended; to write about our painful search for self, jeopardized by a stranger in the post office, a half-seen face in a train window, to write about the continents and populations of our dreams, about love and death, good and evil, the end of the world.”
Love
Happiness
Pain
Writing
John Cheever
St. Patrick's Day Murder
“And what do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, feeling a large hollowness growing inside him.
“You know quite well, don’t you?” replied the crow, hopping up onto the bar with a neat flap of his wings. The bird cocked his head and looked him in the eye. “Don’t tell me an Irishman like you, born and bred in the old country, has forgotten the tale of Cú Chulainn?”
“’Tisn’t the sort of thing you can forget,” he told the crow. “Especially that statue in the Dublin General Post Office. A handsome piece of work that is, illustrating how Cú Chulainn knew death was near and tied himself to a post so he could die standing upright, like the hero he was.”
“Cú Chulainn was a hero indeed,” admitted the crow. “And his enemies couldn’t kill him until the Morrighan lit on his shoulder, stealing his strength, weakening him…”
“Right you are. The Morrighan,” he said. The very thought of that fearsome warrior goddess, with her crimson cloak and chariot, set his heart to pounding in his bony old chest.
“And what form did the Morrighan take, might I ask?” inquired the bird.
“A crow,” he said, feeling a great trembling overtake him. “So is that it? Are you the Morrighan come for me?”
“What do you think Daniel Malone?”
Cozy Mystery
Beheading
Headless Body
Irish Legend
The Collected Stories of Stefan Zweig
“Holding a precious book meant to Mendel what an assignment with a woman might to another man. These moments were his platonic nights of love. Books had power over him; money never did. Great collectors, including the founder of a collection in Princeton University Library, tried in vain to recruit him as an adviser and buyer for their libraries—Jakob Mendel declined; no one could imagine him anywhere but in the Café Gluck. Thirty-three years ago, when his beard was still soft and black and he had ringlets over his forehead, he had come from the east to Vienna, a crook-backed lad, to study for the rabbinate, but he had soon abandoned Jehovah the harsh One God to give himself up to idolatry in the form of the brilliant, thousand-fold polytheism of books. That was when he had first found his way to the Café Gluck, and gradually it became his workplace, his headquarters, his post office, his world. Like an astronomer alone in his observatory, studying myriads of stars every night through the tiny round lens of the telescope, observing their mysterious courses, their wandering multitude as they are extinguished and then appear again, so Jakob Mendel looked through his glasses out from that rectangular table into the other universe of books, also eternally circling and being reborn in that world above our own.”
Love
Knowledge
Obsession
Books
Reading
Book Lovers
Collecting Books
“Founded in 1917 by Peter Brandal, it was named Ny-Ålesund or New Ålesund. The Svalbard Treaty of 1920 recognized Norwegian sovereignty and established Svalbard as a free economic zone and a demilitarized zone. It is only 769 miles from the North Pole on the island of Spitsbergen. Ny-Ålesund located at is on the largest and only permanently populated island of the Svalbard archipelago and holds the distinction of being the northernmost permanent settlement in the world. Owned by the Norwegian Ministry of Trade and Industry and is not incorporated, however it does have a port which accommodates cruise ships, an airport, a post office, the Svalbard church and the Norwegian Seamen's church.
Ny-Ålesund has an all-year permanent population of 30 to 35 which expands to about 120 people in the summer. For accommodations there is the Nordpolhotell, opened on 3 September 1939, and considered the oldest and perhaps the most expensive place to stay in Ny Ålesund. In the 17th and 18th centuries the island was first used as a whaling base in the 17th and 18th centuries. Coal mining was started at the end of the 19th century. Now there are fifteen permanent research stations run by agencies from ten countries. Perhaps the best known is the Global Seed Vault. Deep inside a mountain, it was built to stand the test of time and is considered a fail-safe seed storage facility strong enough to face most natural or man-made disasters. It is also the center for international arctic scientific research.”
Seeds
World History
Norway
Public Enemies: America's Greatest Crime Wave and the Birth of the FBI, 1933-34
“Clarence Hurt was driving, and he got lost. “Does anyone know where the Post Office Building is?” Hurt asked at one point.
“I can tell you,” Karpis said.
“How do you know where it is?” asked Clyde Tolson, who sat in the backseat with Hoover.
“We were thinking of robbing it,” Karpis said.”
Humorous
Fbi
Alvin Karpis
共101条
1
2
3
4
5
下一页
热搜推荐
That
tion
Tion
thin
with
With
ever
here
have
ting
There
will
To Be
ally
People
Real
It Is
less
Live
Then
Pers
Could
Where
Call
Light
Body
Everything
Nigh
Kind
Ship