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Showing 1 - 25 of
3613 matches in All Departments
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Peter the Great (Paperback)
Abbott Jacob Abbott, Jacob Abbott; Edited by 1stworld Library
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R398
Discovery Miles 3 980
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Ships in 10 - 15 working days
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Parentage of Peter-His father's double marriage-Death of his
father-The princesses-Their places of seclusion-Theodore and
John-Sophia uneasy in the convent-Her request-Her probable
motives-Her success-Increase of her influence-Jealousies-Parties
formed-The imperial guards-Their character and
influence-Dangers-Sophia and the soldiers-Sophia's continued
success-Death of Theodore-Peter proclaimed-Plots formed by
Sophia-Revolution-Means of exciting the people-Poisoning-Effect of
the stories that were circulating-Peter and his mother-The
Monastery of the Trinity-Natalia's flight-Narrow escape of
Peter-Commotion in the city-Sophia is unsuccessful-Couvansky's
schemes-Sophia's attempt to appease the soldiers-No effect
produced-Couvansky's views-His plan of a marriage for his
son-Indignation of Sophia-A stratagem-Couvansky falls into the
snare-Excitement produced by his death-Galitzin-Measures adopted by
him-They are successful
The Principles of Teaching represents what I have learned about the
art of teaching over the course of my thirty year career. The
principles I include in the book are meant to be both a practical
guide and an inspiration to teachers who are just entering the
profession. I also believe teachers at any stage of their career
may find this book useful.
The Yoga Sutra is the great text on Yoga, cognized in ancient India
by Maharishi Patanjali. Yoga means "union," and the Yoga Sutra
describes the experience of unity, the complete settling of the
activity of the mind. In 195 short sutras, this text illuminates
the teaching of yoga and meditation, and gives a profound
understanding of life in transcendence.
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Benita;prey for Him (Paperback)
Virginia Tranel; Edited by Library 1stworld Library, 1stworld Library
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R603
Discovery Miles 6 030
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Ships in 10 - 15 working days
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BENITA: prey for him is the true story of bright, vivacious Benita
Kane and the Catholic priest who lured her from childhood into a
disastrous, twenty-year entanglement that changed the course of her
life. What happened to this fatherless girl in the hierarchical,
patriarchal world of Dubuque, Iowa during the 40's, 50's and 60's
is not simply one more tale of clerical sexual abuse, but rather an
astounding, maddening, compelling account of what it was like to
grow up in a family, community and culture so dominated by the
Catholic church that no one could recognize the ominous events
developing around them. As Benita's friend and classmate from
second-grade through college, Virginia Tranel writes from the
unique stance of both participant and observer.
Hurrah, Sam, it is settled at last that we are to go to boarding
school! "Are you certain, Tom? Don't let me raise any false hopes."
"Yes, I am certain, for I heard Uncle Randolph tell Aunt Martha
that he wouldn't keep us in the house another week. He said he
would rather put up with the Central Park menagerie-think of that!"
and Tom Rover began to laugh. "That's rather rough on us, but I
don't know but what we deserve it," answered Sam Rover, Tom's
younger brother. "We have been giving it pretty strong lately, with
playing tricks on Sarah the cook, Jack the hired man, and Uncle
Randolph's pet dog Alexander. But then we, had to do something-or
go into a dry rot. Life in the country is all well enough, but it's
mighty slow for me."
The soft summer wind stirs the redwoods, and Wild-Water ripples
sweet cadences over its mossy stones. There are butterflies in the
sunshine, and from everywhere arises the drowsy hum of bees. It is
so quiet and peaceful, and I sit here, and ponder, and am restless.
It is the quiet that makes me restless. It seems unreal. All the
world is quiet, but it is the quiet before the storm. I strain my
ears, and all my senses, for some betrayal of that impending storm.
Oh, that it may not be premature That it may not be premature * *
The Second Revolt was largely the work of Ernest Everhard, though
he cooperated, of course, with the European leaders. The capture
and secret execution of Everhard was the great event of the spring
of 1932 A.D. Yet so thoroughly had he prepared for the revolt, that
his fellow-conspirators were able, with little confusion or delay,
to carry out his plans. It was after Everhard's execution that his
wife went to Wake Robin Lodge, a small bungalow in the Sonoma Hills
of California.
There are two women who ought to be the constant objects of the
compassion of the disciples of Christ, and for whom daily prayers
ought to be offered at the mercy-seat-the Brahmin woman, who,
deceived by her priests, burns herself on the corpse of her hus
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Adventure (Hardcover)
Jack London; Edited by 1stworld Library
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R814
Discovery Miles 8 140
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Ships in 10 - 15 working days
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He was a very sick white man. He rode pick-a-back on a
woolly-headed, black-skinned savage, the lobes of whose ears had
been pierced and stretched until one had torn out, while the other
carried a circular block of carved wood three inches in diameter.
The torn ear had been pierced again, but this time not so
ambitiously, for the hole accommodated no more than a short clay
pipe. The man-horse was greasy and dirty, and naked save for an
exceedingly narrow and dirty loin-cloth; but the white man clung to
him closely and desperately. At times, from weakness, his head
drooped and rested on the woolly pate. At other times he lifted his
head and stared with swimming eyes at the cocoanut palms that
reeled and swung in the shimmering heat. He was clad in a thin
undershirt and a strip of cotton cloth, that wrapped about his
waist and descended to his knees. On his head was a battered
Stetson, known to the trade as a Baden-Powell. About his middle was
strapped a belt, which carried a large-calibred automatic pistol
and several spare clips, loaded and ready for quick work.
A weary journey beyond the last scrub timber and straggling copses,
into the heart of the Barrens where the niggard North is supposed
to deny the Earth, are to be found great sweeps of forests and
stretches of smiling land. But this the world is just beginning to
know. The world's explorers have known it, from time to time, but
hitherto they have never returned to tell the world. The
Barrens-well, they are the Barrens, the bad lands of the Arctic,
the deserts of the Circle, the bleak and bitter home of the musk-ox
and the lean plains wolf. So Avery Van Brunt found them, treeless
and cheerless, sparsely clothed with moss and lichens, and
altogether uninviting. At least so he found them till he penetrated
to the white blank spaces on the map, and came upon undreamed-of
rich spruce forests and unrecorded Eskimo tribes. It had been his
intention, (and his bid for fame), to break up these white blank
spaces and diversify them with the black markings of
mountain-chains, sinks and basins, and sinuous river courses; and
it was with added delight that he came to speculate upon the
possibilities of timber belts and native villages.
San Francisco Bay is so large that often its storms are more
disastrous to ocean-going craft than is the ocean itself in its
violent moments. The waters of the bay contain all manner of fish,
wherefore its surface is ploughed by the keels of all manner of
fishing boats manned by all manner of fishermen. To protect the
fish from this motley floating population many wise laws have been
passed, and there is a fish patrol to see that these laws are
enforced. Exciting times are the lot of the fish patrol: in its
history more than one dead patrolman has marked defeat, and more
often dead fishermen across their illegal nets have marked success.
They ran across the shining sand, the Pacific thundering its long
surge at their backs, and when they gained the roadway leaped upon
bicycles and dived at faster pace into the green avenues of the
park. There were three of them, three boys, in as many
bright-colored sweaters, and they "scorched" along the cycle-path
as dangerously near the speed-limit as is the custom of boys in
bright-colored sweaters to go. They may have exceeded the
speed-limit. A mounted park policeman thought so, but was not sure,
and contented himself with cautioning them as they flashed by. They
acknowledged the warning promptly, and on the next turn of the path
as promptly forgot it, which is also a custom of boys in
bright-colored sweaters.
Old Long-Beard paused in his narrative, licked his greasy fingers,
and wiped them on his naked sides where his one piece of ragged
bearskin failed to cover him. Crouched around him, on their hams,
were three young men, his grandsons, Deer-Runner, Yellow-Head, and
Afraid-of-the-Dark. In appearance they were much the same. Skins of
wild animals partly covered them. They were lean and meagre of
build, narrow-hipped and crooked-legged, and at the same time
deep-chested, with heavy arms and enormous hands. There was much
hair on their chests and shoulders, and on the outsides of their
arms and legs. Their heads were matted with uncut hair, long locks
of which often strayed before their eyes, beady and black and
glittering like the eyes of birds. They were narrow between the
eyes and broad between the cheeks, while their lower jaws were
projecting and massive. It was a night of clear starlight, and
below them, stretching away remotely, lay range on range of
forest-covered hills. In the distance the heavens were red from the
glow of a volcano. At their backs yawned the black mouth of a cave,
out of which, from time to time, blew draughty gusts of wind.
A green and yellow parrot, which hung in a cage outside the door,
kept repeating over and over: "Allez vous-en! Allez vous-en!
Sapristi! That's all right!" He could speak a little Spanish, and
also a language which nobody understood, unless it w
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Moon Face (Hardcover)
Jack London; Edited by 1stworld Library
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R752
Discovery Miles 7 520
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Ships in 10 - 15 working days
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John Claverhouse was a moon-faced man. You know the kind,
cheek-bones wide apart, chin and forehead melting into the cheeks
to complete the perfect round, and the nose, broad and pudgy,
equidistant from the circumference, flattened against the very
centre of the face like a dough-ball upon the ceiling. Perhaps that
is why I hated him, for truly he had become an offense to my eyes,
and I believed the earth to be cumbered with his presence. Perhaps
my mother may have been superstitious of the moon and looked upon
it over the wrong shoulder at the wrong time. Be that as it may, I
hated John Claverhouse. Not that he had done me what society would
consider a wrong or an ill turn. Far from it. The evil was of a
deeper, subtler sort; so elusive, so intangible, as to defy clear,
definite analysis in words. We all experience such things at some
period in our lives. For the first time we see a certain
individual, one who the very instant before we did not dream
existed; and yet, at the first moment of meeting, we say: "I do not
like that man." Why do we not like him? Ah, we do not know why; we
know only that we do not. We have taken a dislike, that is all. And
so I with John Claverhouse.
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Before Adam (Hardcover)
Jack London; Edited by 1stworld Library
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R740
Discovery Miles 7 400
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Ships in 10 - 15 working days
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Purchase one of 1st World Library's Classic Books and help support
our free internet library of downloadable eBooks. Visit us online
at www.1stWorldLibrary.ORG - - Pictures! Pictures! Pictures! Often,
before I learned, did I wonder whence came the multitudes of
pictures that thronged my dreams; for they were pictures the like
of which I had never seen in real wake-a-day life. They tormented
my childhood, making of my dreams a procession of nightmares and a
little later convincing me that I was different from my kind, a
creature unnatural and accursed. In my days only did I attain any
measure of happiness. My nights marked the reign of fear - and such
fear! I make bold to state that no man of all the men who walk the
earth with me ever suffer fear of like kind and degree. For my fear
is the fear of long ago, the fear that was rampant in the Younger
World, and in the youth of the Younger World. In short, the fear
that reigned supreme in that period known as the Mid-Pleistocene.
Purchase one of 1st World Library's Classic Books and help support
our free internet library of downloadable eBooks. Visit us online
at www.1stWorldLibrary.ORG - - Oh Tom, is it really safe? A young
lady - an exceedingly pretty young lady, she could be called -
stood with one small, gloved hand on the outstretched wing of an
aeroplane, and looked up at a young man, attired in a leather,
fur-lined suit, who sat in the cockpit of the machine just above
her. "Safe, Mary?" repeated the pilot, as he reached in under the
hood of the craft to make sure about one of the controls. "Why, you
ought to know by this time that I wouldn't go up if it wasn't safe
" "Oh, yes, I know, Tom. It may be all right for you, but I've
never been up in this kind of airship before, and I want to know if
it's safe for me."
Purchase one of 1st World Library's Classic Books and help support
our free internet library of downloadable eBooks. Visit us online
at www.1stWorldLibrary.ORG - - Buck did not read the newspapers, or
he would have known that trouble was brewing, not alone for
himself, but for every tide-water dog, strong of muscle and with
warm, long hair, from Puget Sound to San Diego. Because men,
groping in the Arctic darkness, had found a yellow metal, and
because steamship and transportation companies were booming the
find, thousands of men were rushing into the Northland. These men
wanted dogs, and the dogs they wanted were heavy dogs, with strong
muscles by which to toil, and furry coats to protect them from the
frost. Buck lived at a big house in the sun-kissed Santa Clara
Valley. Judge Miller's place, it was called. It stood back from the
road, half hidden among the trees, through which glimpses could be
caught of the wide cool veranda that ran around its four sides. The
house was approached by gravelled driveways which wound about
through wide-spreading lawns and under the interlacing boughs of
tall poplars. At the rear things were on even a more spacious scale
than at the front. There were great stables, where a dozen grooms
and boys held forth, rows of vine-clad servants' cottages, an
endless and orderly array of outhouses, long grape arbors, green
pastures, orchards, and berry patches. Then there was the pumping
plant for the artesian well, and the big cement tank where Judge
Miller's boys took their morning plunge and kept cool in the hot
afternoon.
Purchase one of 1st World Library's Classic Books and help support
our free internet library of downloadable eBooks. Visit us online
at www.1stWorldLibrary.ORG - - Perhaps no other stories have ever
been told so often or listened to with so much pleasure as the
classic tales of ancient Greece. For many ages they have been a
source of delight to young people and old, to the ignorant and the
learned, to all who love to hear about and contemplate things
mysterious, beautiful, and grand. They have become so incorporated
into our language and thought, and so interwoven with our
literature, that we could not do away with them now if we would.
They are a portion of our heritage from the distant past, and they
form perhaps as important a part of our intellectual life as they
did of that of the people among whom they originated.
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Across the Plains (Paperback)
Robert Louis Stevenson, R. L Stevenson; Edited by 1stworld Library
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R385
Discovery Miles 3 850
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Ships in 10 - 15 working days
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Purchase one of 1st World Library's Classic Books and help support
our free internet library of downloadable eBooks. Visit us online
at www.1stWorldLibrary.ORG - - MONDAY. - It was, if I remember
rightly, five o'clock when we were all signalled to be present at
the Ferry Depot of the railroad. An emigrant ship had arrived at
New York on the Saturday night, another on the Sunday morning, our
own on Sunday afternoon, a fourth early on Monday; and as there is
no emigrant train on Sunday a great part of the passengers from
these four ships was concentrated on the train by which I was to
travel. There was a babel of bewildered men, women, and children.
The wretched little booking-office, and the baggage-room, which was
not much larger, were crowded thick with emigrants, and were heavy
and rank with the atmosphere of dripping clothes. Open carts full
of bedding stood by the half-hour in the rain. The officials loaded
each other with recriminations. A bearded, mildewed little man,
whom I take to have been an emigrant agent, was all over the place,
his mouth full of brimstone, blustering and interfering. It was
plain that the whole system, if system there was, had utterly
broken down under the strain of so many passengers.
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Men Of Iron (Paperback)
Ernie Howard Pyle; Edited by 1stworld Library
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R429
Discovery Miles 4 290
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Ships in 10 - 15 working days
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Purchase one of 1st World Library's Classic Books and help support
our free internet library of downloadable eBooks. 1st World
Library-Literary Society is a non-profit educational organization.
Visit us online at www.1stWorldLibrary.ORG - The year 1400 opened
with more than usual peacefulness in England. Only a few months
before, Richard II - weak, wicked, and treacherous - had been
dethroned, and Henry IV declared King in his stead. But it was only
a seeming peacefulness, lasting but for a little while; for though
King Henry proved himself a just and a merciful man - as justice
and mercy went with the men of iron of those days - and though he
did not care to shed blood needlessly, there were many noble
families who had been benefited by King Richard during his reign,
and who had lost somewhat of their power and prestige from the
coming in of the new King. Among these were a number of great lords
- the Dukes of Albemarle, Surrey, and Exeter, the Marquis of
Dorset, the Earl of Gloucester, and others - who had been degraded
to their former titles and estates, from which King Richard had
lifted them. These and others brewed a secret plot to take King
Henry's life, which plot might have succeeded had not one of their
own number betrayed them.
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Aesop's Fables (Paperback)
George Flyer Townsend; Edited by 1stworld Library
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R352
Discovery Miles 3 520
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Ships in 10 - 15 working days
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Purchase one of 1st World Library's Classic Books and help support
our free internet library of downloadable eBooks. Visit us online
at www.1stWorldLibrary.ORG - - WOLF, meeting with a Lamb astray
from the fold, resolved not to lay violent hands on him, but to
find some plea to justify to the Lamb the Wolf's right to eat him.
He thus addressed him: "Sirrah, last year you grossly insulted me."
"Indeed," bleated the Lamb in a mournful tone of voice, "I was not
then born." Then said the Wolf, "You feed in my pasture." "No, good
sir," replied the Lamb, "I have not yet tasted grass." Again said
the Wolf, "You drink of my well." "No," exclaimed the Lamb, "I
never yet drank water, for as yet my mother's milk is both food and
drink to me." Upon which the Wolf seized him and ate him up,
saying, "Well I won't remain supperless, even though you refute
every one of my imputations." The tyrant will always find a pretext
for his tyranny.
Purchase one of 1st World Library's Classic Books and help support
our free internet library of downloadable eBooks. Visit us online
at www.1stWorldLibrary.ORG - - The entire affair is shrouded in
mystery, said D'Arnot. "I have it on the best of authority that
neither the police nor the special agents of the general staff have
the faintest conception of how it was accomplished. All they know,
all that anyone knows, is that Nikolas Rokoff has escaped." John
Clayton, Lord Greystoke - he who had been "Tarzan of the Apes" -
sat in silence in the apartments of his friend, Lieutenant Paul
D'Arnot, in Paris, gazing meditatively at the toe of his immaculate
boot. His mind revolved many memories, recalled by the escape of
his arch-enemy from the French military prison to which he had been
sentenced for life upon the testimony of the ape-man.
Purchase one of 1st World Library's Classic Books and help support
our free internet library of downloadable eBooks. 1st World
Library-Literary Society is a non-profit educational organization.
Visit us online at www.1stWorldLibrary.ORG - - The entire affair is
shrouded in mystery, said D'Arnot. "I have it on the best of
authority that neither the police nor the special agents of the
general staff have the faintest conception of how it was
accomplished. All they know, all that anyone knows, is that Nikolas
Rokoff has escaped." John Clayton, Lord Greystoke - he who had been
"Tarzan of the Apes" - sat in silence in the apartments of his
friend, Lieutenant Paul D'Arnot, in Paris, gazing meditatively at
the toe of his immaculate boot. His mind revolved many memories,
recalled by the escape of his arch-enemy from the French military
prison to which he had been sentenced for life upon the testimony
of the ape-man.
Daniel J. Langton was born in Paterson, New Jersey and raised in
East Harlem with his brothers and sister. He is married to Eve and
they have a son, Mark. They live in San Francisco, where he teaches
English and Creative Writing at San Francisco State University. His
poetry has appeared in such journals as the Nation, the Paris
Review, the Atlantic Monthly, the TLS, the Harvard Advocate and the
Iowa Review, and has been awarded the London Prize, the Devins
Award, the Edgar Allan Poe Award and others. This is his seventh
collection. Daniel J. Langton was launched into a life of writing
poetry by William Carlos Williams. As he tells the story, "When I
was just starting out, I went to a reading by William Carlos
Williams. Afterward I showed him a poem of mine, and he told me, I
don't care what you're doing, quit your job, and write nothing but
poetry. And that's what happened." SOME COMMENTS ON EARLIER BOOKS
BY DANIEL J. LANGTON "These poems have a lovely pacing and interior
radiance." -Tess Gallagher . . ."superbly written, beautifully
controlled, and yet continually freshened by a kind and fresh
imagination." -Robert Bly . . ."such beauty, so moving, so
beautifully made that I have to tell you it is one of the finest
lyrics in the language." -William Carlos Williams "The poems I have
known before are as fresh as ever. The new ones shimmer."-Pamela
Skewes-Cox "Dan Langton may be America's greatest living poet."
-Richard Martin
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R398
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Discovery Miles 3 300
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