The Life of Jean Henri Fabre: The Entomologist, 1823-1910Dodd, Mead, 1921 - 398 strán (strany) |
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Časté výrazy a frázy
admiration Ajaccio algebra amid animals Aveyron Avignon Bees Beetles Bernard Miall better Binomial Theorem birds boys Carpentras chap chemistry creatures delight Dufour Dung-beetle entomological eyes Fabre Fabre's father Favier flowers France genius geometry give ground hand harmas head heart honour Hunting Wasps Hymenoptera ideas insect instinct JEAN HENRI FABRE Jean-Henri laboratory labours larvæ leave less lesson light living look lycée Malaval marvellous Mason Bees master ment mind Mont Ventoux natural history naturalist nest never Normal College observations once pass Pasteur plants poet pond poor Provence pupil Rodez Rouergue Saint-Léons schoolmaster scientific scientist Sérignan silk-worm slopes sort Souvenirs Sphex spot stone straw teaching tell things tiny tion to-day turn Vaucluse village wall word young
Populárne pasáže
Strana 3 - And he spake of trees, from the cedar tree that is in Lebanon even unto the hyssop that springeth out of the wall: he spake also of beasts, and of fowl, and of creeping things, and of fishes.
Strana 143 - Natura fieret laudabile carmen, an arte, Quaesitum est : ego nee studium sine divite vena, Nee rude quid possit video ingenium ; alterius sic 410 Altera poscit opem res et conjurat amice.
Strana 100 - ... qui studet optatam cursu contingere metam, multa tulit fecitque puer, sudavit et alsit, abstinuit venere et vino ; qui Pythia cantat tibicen, didicit prius extimuitque magistrum. nunc satis est dixisse ' ego mira poemata pango ; occupet extremum scabies ; mihi turpe relinqui est, et quod non didici sane nescire fateri.
Strana 311 - You rip up the animal and I study it alive; you turn it into an object of horror and pity, whereas I cause it to be loved ; you labour in a torture-chamber and dissecting-room, I make my observations under the blue sky to the song of the Cicadas; you subject cell and protoplasm to chemical tests, I study instinct in its loftiest manifestations; you pry into death, I pry into life. And why should I not complete my thought: the boars have muddied the clear stream; natural history, youth's glorious...
Strana 311 - Come here, one and all of you — you, the sting-bearers, and you, the wing-cased armour-clads — take up my defence and bear witness in my favour. Tell of the intimate terms on which I live with you, of the patience with which I observe you, of the care with which I record your actions. Your evidence is unanimous: yes, my pages, though they bristle not with hollow formulas nor learned smatterings, are the exact narrative of facts observed, neither more nor less; and whoso cares to question you...
Strana 160 - "Why, yes!" "But what?" " The chrysalis." "What's that, the chrysalis?" " I mean the sort of mummy into which the caterpillar turns before it becomes a moth." " And in every cocoon there is one of those things?" " Of course ; it's to protect the chrysalis that the caterpillar spins.
Strana 47 - I should have liked much to see them closer and to make them wriggle in a little bowl which I should have put ready for them. Let us look at the bottom of the water, pulling aside those bunches of green string from which beads of air are rising and gathering into foam. There is something of everything underneath. I see pretty shells with compact whorls, flat as beans; I notice little worms carrying tufts and feathers; I make out some with flabby fins constantly flapping on their backs. What are they...
Strana 212 - THIS is what I wished for, hoc erat in votis: a bit of land, oh, not so very large, but fenced in, to avoid the drawbacks of a public way; an abandoned, barren, sun-scorched bit of land, favoured by thistles and by Wasps and Bees.
Strana 379 - Because I have stirred a few grains of sand on the shore, am I in a position to know the depths of the ocean ? 'Life has unfathomable secrets. . Human knowledge will be erased from the archives of the world before we possess the last word that the Gnat has to say to us....
Strana 48 - ... about the dam which I meant to build. On one of the broken stones, in a cavity large enough for me to put my fist in, something gleams like glass. The hollow is lined with facets gathered in sixes which flash and glitter in the sun. I have seen something like this in church, on the great saint's day, when the light of the candles in the big chandelier kindles the stars in its hanging crystal.