MihaElla ’s Reviews > Marie: A Story of Russian Love > Status Update
MihaElla
is on page 75 of 218
Life became a burden; I gave myself up to a melancholy which was fed by solitude and inaction. Love burned on in silence and tortured me, more and more. I lost all taste for reading and literature; I let myself become completely depressed; and I feared that I should either become a lunatic or rush into dissipation, when events occurred that had great influence on my life and give a strong and healthy tone to my mind
— Feb 09, 2023 10:53AM
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MihaElla ’s Previous Updates
MihaElla
is on page 45 of 218
When she learned that my father owned three hundred serfs, she exclaimed:
"You see there are some rich people in the world—and we, my dear sir, in point of souls, we possess only the maid Polacca. Yet, thank God, we live, somehow or other. We have but one care, that is Marie, a girl that must be married off. And what fortune has she? The price of two baths per annum.
— Feb 07, 2023 09:18AM
"You see there are some rich people in the world—and we, my dear sir, in point of souls, we possess only the maid Polacca. Yet, thank God, we live, somehow or other. We have but one care, that is Marie, a girl that must be married off. And what fortune has she? The price of two baths per annum.
MihaElla
is on page 35 of 218
“I send you my son; hold him with porcupine gloves.' “What does that mean?" said he, "that must be a Russian proverb."
"It means," said I, with an air of innocence, "to treat a person mildly, to give one liberty."
"Hum!" said he, reading, "'and give him no liberty.' No," he continued, "your proverb does not mean liberty. Well, my son," said he, having finished the letter, "every thing shall be done for you.”
— Feb 07, 2023 05:20AM
"It means," said I, with an air of innocence, "to treat a person mildly, to give one liberty."
"Hum!" said he, reading, "'and give him no liberty.' No," he continued, "your proverb does not mean liberty. Well, my son," said he, having finished the letter, "every thing shall be done for you.”
MihaElla
is on page 10 of 218
You begin young,Peter Grineff,said the old men, shaking his head. Eh! from whom do you inherit it? Neither your father nor grandfather were drunkards.Your mother's name can not be mentioned;she never deigned to taste any thing but cider.Whose fault is it then?That cursed Frenchman's; he taught three fine things, that miserable dog—that pagan—for thy teacher,as if his lordship,thy father,had not people of his own
— Feb 06, 2023 11:11AM
MihaElla
is on page 5 of 218
All my brilliant dreams vanished. In place of the gay life of Saint Petersburg, ennui awaited me in a wild and distant province of the empire. Military life seemed now a calamity.
— Feb 06, 2023 11:02AM
