Скорбь сатаны

Chapter 7

           Hepaused—Iwassilent,watchingthebrightfire-glowandthedroppingredcinders.

           "WhatIamgoingtosaynow,"heproceededinsoft,almostmelancholyaccents—"willsoundridiculouslytrite—stillithastheperverseprosinessoftruthaboutit.Itisthis—inordertowritewithintensefeeling,youmustfirstfeel.Verylikelywhenyouwrotethisbookofyours,youwerealmostahumanhedge-hoginthewayoffeeling.Everypricklypointofyouwaserectandresponsivetothetouchofallinfluences,pleasantorthereverse,imaginativeorrealistic.Thisisaconditionwhichsomepeopleenvyandotherswouldratherdispensewith.Nowthatyou,asahedge-hog,havenofurtherneedforeitheralarm,indignationorself-defence,yourpricklesaresoothedintoanagreeablepassiveness,andyoupartiallyceasetofeel.Thatisall.The‘change’youcomplainofisthusaccountedfor;—youhavenothingtofeelabout—henceyoucannotcomprehendhowitwasthatyoueverfelt."

           Iwasconsciousofirritationatthecalmconvictionofhistone.

           "Doyoutakemeforsuchacallouscreatureasallthat?"Iexclaimed—"Youaremistakeninme,Lucio.

Настройки
Фон страницы
Размер шрифта
Межстрочный интервал
Фразовые глаголы
Показать / Скрыть меню
Шрифт
Roboto Lora
Уведомления
Страница 104 из 677