The Man Who Was Afraidby Maxim GorkyTranslated by Herman BernsteinINTRODUCTORY NOTE.OUT of the darkest depths of life, where vice and crime and misery abound, comes the Byron of the twentieth century, the poet of the vagabond and the proletariat, Maxim Gorky. Not like the beggar, humbly imploring for a crust in the name of the Lord, nor like the jeweller displaying his precious stones to dazzle and tempt the eye, he comes to the world,nay, in accents of Tyrtaeus this commoner of Nizhni Novgorod spurs on his troops of freedom-loving heroes to conquer, as it were, the placid, self- satisfied li　

　Muir Sutherland and Malcolm Craddock, with many thanks　　CHAPTER 1　　It was funny, Richard Sharpe thought, that there were no vultures in England. None that he had seen, anyway. Ugly things they were. Rats with wings.　He thought about vultures a lot, and he had a lot of time to think because he was a soldier, a private, and so the army insisted on doing a lot of his thinking for him. The army decided when he woke up, when he slept, when he ate, when he marched, and when he was to sit about doing nothing and that was what he did most of the time - nothing. Hurry up and do nothing, that was the 　

　　　On August 23, the day before the hurricane struck, Max and Bonnie Lamb awoke early, made love twice and rode the shuttle bus to Disney World. That evening they returned to the Peabody Hotel, showered separately, switched on the cable news and saw that the storm was heading directly for the southeastern tip of Florida. The TV weatherman warned that it was the fiercest in many years.　　Max Lamb sat at the foot of the bed and gazed at the color radar image-a ragged flame-colored sphere, spinning counterclockwise toward the coast. He said, "Jesus, look at that."　　A hurricane, Bonnie Lamb though　

PersuasionJane Austen- Page 2-ELECBOOK CLASSICSebc0046. Jane Austen: PersuasionThis file is free for individual use only. It must not be altered or resold.Organisations wishing to use it must first obtain a licence.Low cost licenses are available. Contact us through our web site(C) The Electric Book Co 1998The Electric Book Company Ltd20 Cambridge Drive, London SE12 8AJ, UK+44 (0)181 488 3872 www.elecbook...　

The Man of the Forestby Zane GreyCHAPTER IAt sunset hour the forest was still, lonely, sweet with tangof fir and spruce, blazing in gold and red and green; andthe man who glided on under the great trees seemed to blendwith the colors and, disappearing, to have become a part ofthe wild woodland.Old Baldy, highest of the White Mountains, stood up roundand bare, rimmed bright gold in the last glow of the settingsun. Then, as the fire dropped behind the domed peak, achange, a cold and darkening blight, passed down the blackspear-pointed slopes over all that mountain world....　

The Americanization of Edward BokThe Autobiography of a Dutch Boy Fifty Years Afterby Edward William BokTo the American woman I owe much, but to two women I owe more, My mother and my wife. And to them I dedicate this account of the boy to whom one gave birth and brought to manhood and the other blessed with all a home and family may mean.An ExplanationThis book was to have been written in 1914, when I foresaw some leisure to write it, for I then intended to retire from active editorship. But the war came, an entirely new set of duties commanded, and the project was laid aside....　

　The red sun balances on the highest ramparts of the mountains, and in its waning light, the foothills appear to be ablaze. A cool breeze blows down out of the sun and fans through the tall dry grass, which streams like waves of golden fire along the slopes toward the rich and shadowed valley.　In the knee-high grass, he stands with his hands in the pockets of his denim jacket, studying the vineyards below. The vines were pruned during the winter. The new growing season has just begun. The colorful wild mustard that flourished between the rows during the colder months has been chopped back and　

　　　　　　HE SEEMED INCAPABLE of creating such chaos, but much of what he saw below could be blamed on him. And that was fine. He was ninety-one, paralyzed, strapped in a wheelchair and hooked to oxygen. His second stroke seven years ago had almost finished him off, but Abraham Rosenberg was still alive and even with tubes in his nose his legal stick was bigger than the other eight. He was the only legend remaining on the Court, and the fact that he was still breathing irritated most of the mob below.　　　　He sat in a small wheelchair in an office on the main floor of the Supreme Court Building. Hi　

　　December 6, 1996　　Epworth Heights Luddington, Michigan　　My Dearest Kay,　　1 am sitting on the porch, staring out at Lake Michigan as a sharp wind reminds me I need to cut my hair. 1 am remembering when we were here last, both of us abandoning who and what we are for one precious moment in the history of our time. Kay, I need you to listen to me.　　You are reading this because I am dead When I decided to write it, 1 asked Senator Lord to deliver it to you in person in the early part of December, a year after my death. I know how hard Christmas has always been for you, and now it must be unbear　

　Sao Paulo Airport, Brazil, 1991　　 With a POWERFUL KICK FROM ITS twin turbofan engines, the sleek executive jet lifted off the runway and shot into the vaulted skies above Sao Paulo. Climbing rapidly over the biggest city in South America, the Learjet soon reached its cruising altitude of thirty-nine thousand feet and raced toward the northwest at five hundred miles an hour. Seated in a fortable rear-facing chair at the back of the cabin, Professor Francesca Cabral peered wistfully out the window at the cottony cloud cover, already missing the smog cloaked streets and sizzling energy of her h　

　　At midmorning of a broiling summer day the life of Three Counties Hospital ebbed and flowed like tide currents around an offshore island. Outside the hospital the citizens of Burlington, Pennsylvania, perspired under a ninety-degree shade temperature with 78 per cent humidity. Down by the steel mills and the rail yards, where there was little shade and no thermometers, the reading-if anyone had bothered to take it-would have been a good deal higher. Within the hospital it was cooler than outside, but not much. Among patients and staff only the fortunate or influential escaped the worst of t　

Short Logicby HegelI: Introduction§ 1. Objects of Philosophy§ 2. Reflective Thought§ 3. The Content of Philosophy§ 4. Popular Modes of Thought§ 5. Reason§ 6. All that is Rational is Real§ 7. Beginning to Reflect§ 8. Empirical Knowledge§ 9. Speculative Logic§ 10. The Critical Philosophy§ 11. Conditions for the existence of Philosophy§ 12. The Rise of Philosophy§ 13. The History of Philosophy§ 14. The System of Philosophy§ 15. Each of the parts of philosophy is a philosophical Whole.§ 16. The form of an Encyclopaedia...　

AN INQUIRY INTO THE NATURE AND CAUSES OF THE WEALTH OF NATIONSby Adam Smith1776BOOK FIVEOF THE REVENUE OF THE SOVEREIGN OR COMMONWEALTHCHAPTER IOf the Expenses of the Sovereign or CommonwealthPART 1Of the Expense of DefenceTHE first duty of the sovereign, that of protecting thesociety from the violence and invasion of other independentsocieties, can be performed only by means of a military force....　

My Memories of Eighty Yearsby Chauncey M. DepewTO MY WIFE MAY PALMER DEPEW THIS BOOK GREW FROM HER ENCOURAGEMENTFOREWORDFor many years my friends have insisted upon my putting in permanent form the incidents in my life which have interested them. It has been my good fortune to take part in history-making meetings and to know more or less intimately people prominent in world affairs in many countries. Every one so situated has a flood of recollections which pour out when occasion stirs the memory. Often the listeners wish these transcribed for their own use....　

Thoughts on ManHis Nature, Productions and DiscoveriesInterspersed with Some ParticularsRespecting the AuthorbyWilliam GodwinOh, the blood more stirsTo rouse a lion, than to start a hare!SHAKESPEARELONDON: EFFINGHAM WILSON, ROYAL EXCHANGE. 1831.PREFACEIn the ensuing volume I have attempted to give a defined and permanent form to a variety of thoughts, which have occurred to my mind in the course of thirty-four years, it being so long since I published a volume, entitled, the Enquirer,thoughts, which, if they have presented themselves to other men, have, at least so far as I am aware, never be　

IN THE town there were two mutes, and they were alwaystogether. Early every morning they would come out fromthe house where they lived and walk arm in arm down thestreet to work. The two friends were very different. Theone who always steered the way was an obese anddreamy Greek. In the summer he would come outwearing a yellow or green polo shirt stuffed sloppily intohis trousers in front and hanging loose behind. When itwas colder he wore over this a shapeless gray sweater.His face was round and oily, with half-closed eyelids andlips that curved in a gentle, stupid smile. The other mute...