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    А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И Й К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я
    0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
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    Показаны лучшие 100 слов (из 209).
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     Кол-во Слово
    3LACK
    4LAD
    3LADIES
    7LADY
    20LAID
    9LAMP
    14LAND
    3LANDLADY
    3LANE
    5LANGUAGE
    37LARGE
    94LAST
    17LATE
    3LATELY
    15LATER
    10LATTER
    14LAUGH
    14LAUGHING
    7LAUGHTER
    4LAW
    53LAY
    3LAZY
    23LEAD
    9LEAN
    4LEANING
    10LEARNED
    19LEAST
    4LEATHER
    31LEAVE
    19LEAVES
    9LEAVING
    4LECTURE
    10LED
    47LEFT
    29LEG
    8LENGTH
    8LES
    11LESS
    11LESSON
    89LET
    25LETTER
    3LETTING
    6LEVEL
    23LIE
    11LIES
    92LIFE
    3LIFETIME
    7LIFT
    45LIGHT
    3LIGHTING
    3LIGHTNING
    169LIKE
    3LIKED
    3LIKELY
    9LIMB
    4LIMP
    39LINE
    7LINED
    24LIP
    28LISTEN
    12LIT
    7LITERATURE
    8LITTER
    124LITTLE
    32LIVE
    22LIVED
    3LIVELY
    13LIVES
    6LIVID
    15LIVING
    4LIZA
    4LOAD
    10LOCAL
    3LOCK
    7LODGING
    2LOFTY
    3LONDON
    2LONESOME
    158LONG
    19LONGER
    251LOOK
    3LOOM
    5LORD
    9LOSE
    4LOSS
    23LOST
    23LOT
    15LOUD
    5LOUDLY
    51LOVE
    7LOVED
    12LOVELY
    2LOVING
    27LOW
    14LOWER
    8LUCK
    4LUCKY
    3LUMP
    3LUXURY
    31LYING

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    1. Attalea Princeps
    Входимость: 1. Размер: 19кб.
    Часть текста: branches of the trees were entwined with the huge leaves of the palms, which they bent and broke, themselves pressing up against the iron frames and bending and breaking in turn. The gardeners were constantly lopping the branches and tying the leaves up with wire to curb their wild growth, but it did not help much. What the plants needed was the wide free spaces of their native habitats. They were natives of hot climes, tender, luxurious creations, who remembered their native countries and yearned for them. However transparent the glass roof might be, it was not the bright sky. Sometimes, in the winter, the panes froze over, and then it would grow quite dark in the greenhouse. The wind would howl and beat against the frames, and rattle them. Snow-drifts covered the roof. Listening to the howling of the wind, the plants would remember another wind, a warm humid wind that gave to them life and health. And they longed to feel its breath upon them again, to have it sway their branches and wanton with their leaves. But the air in the greenhouse was without a stir, except perhaps sometimes in the winter when the storm would smash a pane of glass and a cold sharp flurry, laden with hoarfrost, would find its way under the dome. In the wake of that flurry the leaves turned white, shrank, and wilted. But new panes were put in very quickly. The botanical garden was in charge of an excellent...
    2. The Reminiscences of Private Ivanov
    Входимость: 1. Размер: 120кб.
    Часть текста: Division was passing through the town. As I had come with the intention of joining some regiment and going to the war, the seventh of May already found me standing in the street at four o'clock in the morning among the grey ranks lined up outside the billet of the colonel of the 222nd Starobelsky Infantry Regiment. I had on a greatcoat with red shoulder-straps and blue tabs, and a cap with a blue band; across my back was a pack, at my belt a cartridge pouch, in my hand a heavy rifle. The band struck up, and the colours were carried out of the colonel's lodgings. A command rang out; the regiment noiselessly presented arms. Then a terrific uproar arose: the colonel shouted a command, and this was taken up by the battalion and company commanders and the platoon NCO's. The result was a confused and to me quite unintelligible movement of greatcoats, which ended in the regiment stretching out in a long column and swinging off to the sounds of the regimental band, which blared out a gay march. I marched along, too, trying to keep in step with my neighbour. The pack pulled backwards, the heavy pouches forwards, the rifle kept slipping off my shoulder, and the collar of the greatcoat chafed my neck; but despite all these little discomforts, the music, the orderly heavy movement of the column, the fresh early morning air, and the sight of the bristling bayonets and grim suntanned faces attuned one's soul to a calm and steadfast mood. Despite the early hour people stood about in crowds outside the houses, and half-dressed figures looked out of the windows. We marched down a long straight street, past the market-place, where the Moldavians on their ox-waggons were already beginning to arrive; the street climbed uphill and...
    3. The Meeting
    Входимость: 2. Размер: 50кб.
    Часть текста: he had never felt in his life before. He stood for a long time, revelling in these new sensations, his back turned to the city in which he had arrived only that day, and where he was to live for many a year. Behind him a motley crowd was strolling along the boulevard; he caught snatches of Russian and foreign conversation, the quiet dignified voices of the local worthies, the pretty babble of the young ladies, and the boisterous voices of the senior schoolboys clustering around two or three of them. A burst of laughter from one such group made Vasily Petrovich turn round. The gay crowd passed him; one of the youths was saying something to a young schoolgirl; his chums were noisily interrupting what was apparently a vehement apologetic speech. "Don't you believe him, Nina! He's a liar! He's making it all up!" "No, really, Nina, it isn't my fault in the least!" "Look here, Shevyrev, if you ever try to deceive me again..." the girl began with affected hauteur in a pretty young voice. Vasily Petrovich did not catch the rest of the sentence, as the crowd passed out of earshot. Half a minute later another burst of laughter came out of the darkness. "There is my future field of activity upon which I shall toil like the humble ploughman," thought Vasily Petrovich, first, because he had been appointed to the post of teacher in the local Gymnasium, and secondly, because he had a predilection for figurative thinking even when he did not give it utterance. "Yes, I shall have to labour in that humble field," he thought, sitting down on the bench, again facing the sea. "Where are thy dreams of a professorship, of journalism, of renown? They were beyond your reach, sir; so now try your hand here!" And pleasurable thoughts stirred in the head of the new Gymnasium teacher. He thought of how he would...
    4. Мериме П.: Коломба. Глава четырнадцатая
    Входимость: 1. Размер: 6кб.
    Часть текста: Вы знаете, что тогда на морском берегу он промочил себе ноги, вместо того чтобы восхищаться с нами видом, а этого на Вашем прекрасном острове совершенно достаточно, чтобы схватить лихорадку. Я отсюда вижу Вашу мину: Вы, без сомнения, ищете свой стилет, но я надеюсь, что другого у вас нет. Итак, у отца была небольшая лихорадка, а я была в большом волнении; префект - я упорно продолжаю находить его очень любезным - прислал нам тоже очень любезного доктора, который в два дня избавил нас от беспокойства: приступ не возобновился, и отец опять мечтает об охоте, но я ему еще не позволяю. Как вы нашли свой горный замок? На месте ли Ваша северная башня? Много ли там привидений? Я спрашиваю Вас обо всем этом потому, что отец помнит, что Вы обещали ему ланей, кабанов, муфлонов... так зовут это странное животное? Отправляясь в Бастию, мы рассчитываем просить Вашего гостеприимства, и я надеюсь, что замок делла Реббиа, хотя и старый и разрушенный, как Вы говорите, не рухнет на нас. Хотя префект так любезен, что, говоря с ним, никогда не чувствуешь недостатка в предметах для разговора ( by the by [ Между прочим (англ.). ], мне кажется, что я вскружила ему голову), мы говорили о Вас, господин Орсо. Бастийские юристы прислали ему показание какого-то плута, которого они держат под замком; это показание такового свойства, что может уничтожить ваши последние подозрения; Ваша вражда,...
    5. Nadezhda Nikolayevna
    Входимость: 29. Размер: 162кб.
    Часть текста: Why then does a secret voice whisper it into my ear, why, when I wake up in the night, do familiar scenes and visions pass before me in the darkness, and why, when one pale image rises before me, do my face flame and my hands clench, and terror and rage clutch at my throat, as they did that day when I stood face to face with my mortal enemy? I cannot rid myself of these haunting memories, and an odd thought has occurred to me. Perhaps, if I put them down on paper, I shall be finished with them; perhaps they will haunt me no longer, and will let me die in peace. That is the special reason that makes me take up my pen. Perhaps someone will read this diary, perhaps not. It is immaterial to me. Therefore, I need not apologize to my future readers either for my choice of subject, which cannot have the slightest interest for people accustomed to dealing with social, if not world, problems, or for the form in which my writings are set forth. True, I should like these lines to be read by one person, but that person will not blame me. Everything that has to do with me is dear to her. That person is my cousin. What is keeping her so long today? It is three months now since I came to myself after that day. The first face that I saw was Sonya's. Ever since then she has been spending every evening with me. It has become with her a kind of service. She sits at my bedside or near the great easy chair when I feel strong enough to sit in it, and talks to me, reads newspapers and books to me. It grieves her to see me so indifferent to...