Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. A Street of Paris and Its Inhabitant by Honoré de Balzac (best short books to read TXT) 📖
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- Author: Honoré de Balzac
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morning to take breakfast. M. Marmus hears the drum of the Polytechnic School pupils of whom he was the professor. He quits me to go and see them pass. I was nineteen years of age and when I pouted, you cannot guess what he said to me. He said, 'These young people are the flower and the glory of France!' This is how my marriage began. You can judge of the rest."
"Oh, Monsieur, is it possible?" asked Madame Adolphe with an indignant air.
"I have cornered Sinard!" exclaimed M. Marmus triumphantly.
"Oh, he would let himself die!" exclaimed Madame Adolphe.
"Get something for him to eat," said Madame Marmus. "He would let himself do anything. Ah, my good Madame Adolphe, a man of science, you see, is a man who knows nothing--of life."
The malady was cured by a cataplasm of Italian cheese that the man of science ate without knowing what he was eating, for he held Sinard in a corner--
"Poor Madame," said the kind Madame Adolphe. "I pity you. He was really so absent-minded as that!"
And Madame Adolphe forgot the strange avowal of her mistress.
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"Oh, Monsieur, is it possible?" asked Madame Adolphe with an indignant air.
"I have cornered Sinard!" exclaimed M. Marmus triumphantly.
"Oh, he would let himself die!" exclaimed Madame Adolphe.
"Get something for him to eat," said Madame Marmus. "He would let himself do anything. Ah, my good Madame Adolphe, a man of science, you see, is a man who knows nothing--of life."
The malady was cured by a cataplasm of Italian cheese that the man of science ate without knowing what he was eating, for he held Sinard in a corner--
"Poor Madame," said the kind Madame Adolphe. "I pity you. He was really so absent-minded as that!"
And Madame Adolphe forgot the strange avowal of her mistress.
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Publication Date: 07-27-2010
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