Jonathan came into the room, fully dressed.
The little fellow ran into the street.
His words put courage into every heart.
Her jet black hair was swept up gracefully into a plaited crown.
She was only a month into two years old, but she was big for her age.
I'll direct all my efforts into preparing for our new baby.
"Charming!" whispered the little princess, sticking the needle into her work as if to testify that the interest and fascination of the story prevented her from going on with it.
The radio had shifted into Christmas mode with one song after another.
"Soon enough," she said, tucking the tickets back into her purse.
"He will sprout very soon," said the Prince, "and grow into a large bush, from which we shall in time be able to pick several very good sorcerers."
Well, as I was hurrying along, I heard a great splash, as though something had fallen into the pool by the fountain.
The Wizard's sword-blade snapped into a dozen pieces at the first blow he struck against the wooden people.
Even most futurists have fallen into this trap.
Alex helped the man get the luggage into the trunk and then hurried to assist Carmen into the car before the man could touch her.
So, with a snort and a neigh and a whisk of his short tail he trotted off the roof into the air and at once began floating downward to the street.
He put the birds softly, one by one, into their warm little home.
If my mother happened to be near I crept into her arms, too miserable even to remember the cause of the tempest.
The prince again went to his bureau, glanced into it, fingered his papers, closed the bureau again, and sat down at the table to write to the governor.
Alex walked into the room, smiling when he saw what she had done.
He then went into the house, and waited while the teacher read it.
It was the most comical shapeless thing, this improvised doll, with no nose, mouth, ears or eyes--nothing that even the imagination of a child could convert into a face.
His mouth twisted into a wry smile.
The advisors of the Princess did not like this test; but she commanded them to step into the flame and one by one they did so, and were scorched so badly that the air was soon filled with an odor like that of baked potatoes.
Then, having tied the wooden creature securely, the boy buckled the strap and tossed his prisoner into the buggy.
Instead of keeping still, so I could eat him comfortably, he trembled so with fear that he fell off the table into a big vase that was standing on the floor.
The fire leaped into life; the flames encircled me so that in a moment my clothes were blazing.
His eyes, nose, and mouth all seemed puckered into a vacant, wearied grimace, and his arms and legs always fell into unnatural positions.
Bennigsen should have advanced into Prussia sooner, then things would have taken a different turn...
He sat down, sank into thought, closed his eyes, and dozed off.
Women, women! said Alpatych, puffing and speaking rapidly just as the prince did, and he climbed into the trap.
He pulled her into his arms again.
Later, she lay in bed, tucked warmly under the covers as his boots clicked away from her on the hardwood floor - down the hall and into the den.
He stood and tossed the last bite into his mouth, washing it down with the last of his milk.
"It's not a big deal," Carmen said, and launched into another subject.
Alex gently turned her around and took her into his arms.
With slow graceful steps, he pulled her into dance.
Thanks to Alex, that chore had been turned into a simple twist of a knob.
The neighbors couldn't see into any of their windows, and they were far enough off the main road that the only traffic would be people coming to see them.
"Good enough," he replied, and dropped into his chair.
"I suppose not," he finally said as he spooned mashed potatoes into his plate.
Alex climbed into the car beside Carmen and placed his arm protectively on the back of the seat behind her neck.
Large Mahogany doors swung into an entry graced with antique furnishings.
Felipa kicked her horse into a lope and rode up beside him.
"Let's go," Alex said, tucking his shirt into his pants.
Alex had asked one of the men go into town and rent a car for them.
"So, shut the door," he said, his voice strained, and drew her into his arms, seeking her lips again in a hungry way.
It was Alex who talked her into the IVF, but what did it matter?
No one wanted to feel forced into anything.
Then she ran straight into the fence - like she didn't see it.
Slipping into the new nightgown, she slid between the sheets.
He shrugged into the pajama shirt.
Lifting the covers, he climbed into bed and moved close to her.
"I wondered if you were ever going to come back," she said, moving eagerly into step with him.
They seemed to be falling right into the middle of a big city which had many tall buildings with glass domes and sharp-pointed spires.
"Where's my milk?" asked the kitten, looking up into Dorothy's face.
Suddenly a man appeared through a hole in the roof next to the one they were on and stepped into plain view.
He reached the edge of the tall roof, stepped one foot out into the air, and walked into space as calmly as if he were on firm ground.
Soon he reached the street and disappeared through a glass doorway into one of the glass buildings.
"Of course; can't you see?" and again the kitten wandered into the air and back to the edge of the roof.
He turned and walked down the street, and after a moment's hesitation Dorothy caught Eureka in her arms and climbed into the buggy.
"Why have you dared to intrude your unwelcome persons into the secluded Land of the Mangaboos?" he asked, sternly.
Just then a man came running into the hall and addressed the Prince after making a low bow.
Immediately the Prince and all of his people flocked out of the hall into the street, that they might see what was about to happen.
So he followed the Prince into the great domed hall, and Dorothy and Zeb came after them, while the throng of people trooped in also.
Then he caught up another piglet and pushed it into the first, where it disappeared.
The people of Mangaboo now formed themselves into a procession and marched toward the glass city to escort their new ruler to her palace and to perform those ceremonies proper to the occasion.
No one now seemed to pay any attention to the strangers, so Dorothy and Zeb and the Wizard let the train pass on and then wandered by themselves into the vegetable gardens.
They agreed to this plan, and when they reached the great square Jim drew the buggy into the big door of the domed hall.
"We shall throw you three people into the Garden of the Twining Vines," said the Princess, "and they will soon crush you and devour your bodies to make themselves grow bigger.
Once they came near to the enclosed Garden of the Clinging Vines, and walking high into the air looked down upon it with much interest.
"Why, they are driving us toward the Black Pit, into which they threatened to cast us," replied the kitten.
Eureka helped him by flying into the faces of the enemy and scratching and biting furiously, and the kitten ruined so many vegetable complexions that the Mangaboos feared her as much as they did the horse.
Half way up the steep was a yawning cave, black as night beyond the point where the rainbow rays of the colored suns reached into it.
The mouth of the hole was nearly filled up now, but the kitten gave a leap through the remaining opening and at once scampered up into the air.
It was all laid out into lovely lawns and gardens, with pebble paths leading through them and groves of beautiful and stately trees dotting the landscape here and there.
All three got into the buggy and Zeb picked up the reins, though Jim needed no guidance of any sort.
The light was dim, and soon they mounted into total darkness, so that the Wizard was obliged to get out his lanterns to light the way.
That made an extraordinary long hole, as you may imagine, and reached far down into the earth; and, as I leaned over it to try to see to the bottom, I lost my balance and tumbled in.
The Gargoyles roughly pushed them into the opening, where there was a platform, and then flew away and left them.
From their platform a stair descended into the house, and the children and the Wizard explored it after lighting a lantern to show them the way.
Looking out, they could see into some of the houses near them, where there were open windows in abundance, and were able to mark the forms of the wooden Gargoyles moving about in their dwellings.
They mounted into the buggy, Dorothy holding Eureka safe in her lap.
Inside the archway were several doors, leading to different rooms built into the mountain, and Zeb and the Wizard lifted these wooden doors from their hinges and tossed them all on the flames.
Oh, she is sometimes gone for several weeks on her hunting trips, and if we were not tied we would crawl all over the mountain and fight with each other and get into a lot of mischief.
The children and the Wizard rushed across the moving rock and sprang into the passage beyond, landing safely though a little out of breath.
The lanterns were beginning to grow dim, and the Wizard poured the remaining oil from one into the other, so that the one light would last longer.
Folks don't fall into the middle of the earth and then get back again to tell of their adventures--not in real life.
"Gid-dap!" cried the boy, and at the word Jim slowly trotted into the courtyard and drew the buggy along the jewelled driveway to the great entrance of the royal palace.
Throwing my voice into any object I pleased, to make it appear that the object was speaking instead of me.
Sending for the Tin Woodman the Wizard took him into a corner and whispered:
When I get my thoughts arranged in good order I do not like to have anything upset them or throw them into confusion.
I will confess that I intended to eat the little pig for my breakfast; so I crept into the room where it was kept while the Princess was dressing and hid myself under a chair.
He leaped into the saddle, and away he dashed with his officers close behind him.
How had he managed to drive all the frightened little animals into this place of safety?
They did not go far into the woods.
He walked quickly, but very quietly, down the pathway into the darker woods.
They shouted and threw stones into the cave.
He got down on his hands and knees and crawled into the cave.
Soon, with the gun in one hand, he crept back into the cave.
He crept into the cave for the third time.
About an hour later, a well-dressed gentleman came into the hotel and said, "I wish to see Mr. Jefferson."
"Here's something else for the Dean," he said roughly, and tossed it into the servant's arms.
He stood on the doorstep and looked back into the house.
He did not even hear his mother's footsteps as she came into the room.
The king's soldiers were sent into every part of the country.
Then, one morning, Alfred went into his mother's room with a smiling, joyous face.
Well, we should have thrown both men into prison, and the treasure would have been given to the king.
The Spartans said to one another, Let us throw this fellow into the rocky chasm.
So a party of soldiers led him up into the mountain and placed him on the edge of the yawning hole in the rocks.
It ran into a narrow cleft which he had not seen before, and then through a long, dark passage which was barely large enough for a man's body.
You must either jump overboard into the sea or be slain with your own sword.
And now they would have spared him; but he was true to his promise,-- as soon as the song was finished, he threw himself headlong into the sea.
He was dressed just as they had seen him when he jumped into the sea.
Three hours later, the ship came into port, as you have already learned.
Then he went out again, very quietly, and slipped them all into the boy's pocket.
They rushed suddenly into the village.
The next minute it ran safely into its home, carrying its precious load.
In Richmond, Virginia, one Saturday morning, an old man went into the market to buy something.
When the work was finished, the old fishing boat looked rather odd, with a paddle wheel on each side which dipped just a few inches into the water.
He put the bag of money on top of them and then leaped into the water.
He turned quickly and saw an eagle rising into the air with his moneybag in its claws.
At last, just as the blacksmith was in the midst of a stirring song, he rose quietly and went out into the darkness.
So Caedmon was led into the great hall of the abbey.
The next morning, Gautama sat in his carriage and rode out from the palace into one of the streets of the city.
Soon the carriage turned into another street--a street less carefully guarded.
They passed out into the open country and saw the cottages of the poor people.
I thought of the big fire in the queen's kitchen, and knew that the cook would never allow a half-drowned child to be carried into that fine place.
They let you fall into the water, and you would have been drowned, if it hadn't been for me.
But really, I fell into the pool at the fountain, and this kind man brought me here to get me dry.
But when they came into Lacedaemon, they heard his praises on every side.
Examining history is not like gazing into some fantasy crystal ball, where what we see is prophetic in detail.
Princip seized the opportunity and fired into the open car at a range of five feet, killing them both.
The Open Directory Project—where fifty thousand editors try to organize the web into a directory of sites for no reward at all—comes instantly to mind.
So we've reached an unprecedented situation in the course of human learning, which is this: The amount of data we have available has outstripped our ability to process it and turn it into knowledge.
Or, through serendipity, scientists stumbled into things—with those "your chocolate is in my peanut butter" moments.
They will feel like we stumbled sloppily into the future.
When we consider the costs of all the wrong decisions ever made—a calculation I don't even know how to approach—we will think of it as a diminishing problem receding into the past.
In 1796, he extracted fluid from the pox on the hand of a dairymaid named Sarah Nelmes—who had caught the condition from her cow Blossom—and injected the fluid into a cut in eight-year-old James Phipps's arm.
Our battles with diseases go as far back into history as we can see.
(The use of such practices continued into the scientific age: While Jenner was inoculating people with his new smallpox vaccine, doctors were draining half a gallon of blood from George Washington for his sore throat, a procedure that hastened his death.
Half a century later, nitrous oxide came into use as an anesthetic.
Dig deeper into the data.
You can then divide the world into redheads and non-redheads and compare their accident records.
Why do some houses get broken into and others don't?
Technology allowed us to peer deeper into the mysteries of the miniscule.
With all due respect to Nietzsche, we have looked long into the Abyss, but the Abyss has not looked back into us.
Most of these people have other jobs and obligations, so without something like Etsy, they might not be able to enter into these trades.
By "make a car," I mean really make a car: dig iron ore out of the ground, smelt it to steel, wildcat for oil, find oil and refine it into gasoline, and so on.
Humans require relatively little oxygen, and plants are constantly transforming the carbon dioxide we exhale back into useful oxygen.
Every day the earth heats and cools as night turns into day and back into night.
A genetically engineered tree that converts sunlight into fuel and then pumps the fuel through its roots to where it is needed.
So they threw their sabots, a kind of clog shoe, into the machinery to break it—an act that gave us the word sabotage.
No one threw his shoe into the air conditioner, I assure you.)
And say the net cost to society of having a gallon of polluted water dumped into the river—the cleanup cost, or the economic impact of the gallon of dirty water—is $10.
We have fallen into the habit of anthropomorphizing computers and robots for a simple reason: The more we program them to do things that we presently do, the more we think of them as being like us.
In the future, we will paint surfaces with substances full of nanites that will absorb sunlight and turn it into electricity, transforming any object we paint into a clean energy creator.
Or how about nanites that process each piece of trash in our garbage and turn it into something useful?
Or nanites that clean up any toxic chemicals they find and turn them into harmless agents?
I branched off into this discussion of robots and nanites to give an idea of the kinds of massive gains in efficiency with declining costs.
Think of the shape of that curve and project it into the future.
If the poor believe they have less justice than the rich, they buy into the system less. 4.
Finally, when the poor see their income shrink while the income of the rich rises, they will buy into the system less.
Around 1600, the Elizabethan Poor Law came into effect and lasted more than two centuries.
The 2000s saw the rise of commercially viable seeds created by transgenesis, that is, the insertion of DNA from one species into another species.
Stakman had determined that immunity to these diseases, or at least resistance, could be bred into crops.
Government buildings were converted into silos to hold the abundance, as other countries in the region placed orders for massive amounts of these seeds.
From our point of view, the job of the plant is to convert sunlight into energy and store that energy in a tasty way; then when we eat the plant, we get that energy.
All the seeds we have today have these inherent limits built into them that we still haven't figured out how to change.
If the farm of the future plugs into the national grid, it will become part of the national food strategy and can be optimized for financial yield for the owners.
This dairyman also makes some of the milk into cheese and we use a lot of that as well.
If you are not familiar with this whole issue, look into it; it is fascinating and, I think, important.
Finally, we get to the fourth order of GMO: being able to splice genes from one species into another species, a process known as transgenesis.
This is exactly the kind of problem geneticists can sink their teeth into, so to speak, to make the protein in this grain digestible.
Wouldn't that be something: Plants that would convert nitrogen from the atmosphere directly into ammonia they could use or plants that gave off the odor of other plants that pests avoid?
Bacteria can process toxic wastes and oil spills into harmless biodegradable materials.
China pulled out all the stops, dividing its farmland into about twenty-five thousand collective farms with an average of five thousand households each.
They were tied into one hundred fifty lines of one hundred men each.
Through the adoption of standardized treaties, they can enter into economic agreements, adopt the same weights and measures, and agree to honor the intellectual property of the others.
No one I knew of had ever seriously considered the possibility that without any conflict, treaty, war, or even a coin toss, the Soviet Union would simply vote itself into nonexistence in 1991.
These trends will continue into the foreseeable future.
It is yet another major disincentive to war—and we are only six items into our list!
Centuries ago, North America saw a shortage of small coins, so large ones were cut into bits to circulate as small change.
Fifteen new nations formed as the Soviet Union dissolved; Czechoslovakia split into the Czech Republic and Slovakia, and Sudan into North Sudan and South Sudan.
From the northwest angle of Nova Scotia, viz., that angle which is formed by a line drawn due north from the source of St. Croix River to the highlands; along the said highlands which divide those rivers that empty themselves into the river St. Lawrence ...
They may not bump into them very often in what we call "everyday life" but do know them well enough to friend them.
The article also describes a second project where a group of young entrepreneurs who look as if they could be in a garage band are fitting deceptively innocent-looking hardware into a prototype 'Internet in a suitcase.'
In Russia, Joseph Stalin had thousands of writers, intellectuals, and scientists arrested and put into concentration camps.
Yes, a comet slamming into the planet or some galactic cataclysm could wipe us all out.
Such an attack could escalate into a widespread conflict, although I doubt it.
A bright idea, however, shot into my mind, and the problem was solved.
The morning after my teacher came she led me into her room and gave me a doll.
She brought me my hat, and I knew I was going out into the warm sunshine.
As the cool stream gushed over one hand she spelled into the other the word water, first slowly, then rapidly.
You cannot touch love either; but you feel the sweetness that it pours into everything.
From the beginning of my education Miss Sullivan made it a practice to speak to me as she would speak to any hearing child; the only difference was that she spelled the sentences into my hand instead of speaking them.
Sometimes I rose at dawn and stole into the garden while the heavy dew lay on the grass and flowers.
Few know what joy it is to feel the roses pressing softly into the hand, or the beautiful motion of the lilies as they sway in the morning breeze.
The large, downy peaches would reach themselves into my hand, and as the joyous breezes flew about the trees the apples tumbled at my feet.
I liked this, too; but the division of the earth into zones and poles confused and teased my mind.
It was great fun to plunge my hand into the bowl and feel the tadpoles frisk about, and to let them slip and slide between my fingers.
When the train at last pulled into the station at Boston it was as if a beautiful fairy tale had come true.
I lived myself into all things.
I was never still a moment; my life was as full of motion as those little insects that crowd a whole existence into one brief day.
The withered grass and the bushes were transformed into a forest of icicles.
Miss Sullivan sat beside me at my lessons, spelling into my hand whatever Mr. Irons said, and looking up new words for me.
The thought of going to college took root in my heart and became an earnest desire, which impelled me to enter into competition for a degree with seeing and hearing girls, in the face of the strong opposition of many true and wise friends.
Each day Miss Sullivan went to the classes with me and spelled into my hand with infinite patience all that the teachers said.
But, though everybody was kind and ready to help us, there was only one hand that could turn drudgery into pleasure.
The embossed books and other apparatus arrived, and I threw myself into the work with renewed confidence.
He kept my mind alert and eager, and trained it to reason clearly, and to seek conclusions calmly and logically, instead of jumping wildly into space and arriving nowhere.
Many of the dreams that had delighted my young inexperience became beautifully less and "faded into the light of common day."
The lectures are spelled into my hand as rapidly as possible, and much of the individuality of the lecturer is lost to me in the effort to keep in the race.
One could have traveled round the word many times while I trudged my weary way through the labyrinthine mazes of grammars and dictionaries, or fell into those dreadful pitfalls called examinations, set by schools and colleges for the confusion of those who seek after knowledge.
Although she did not think I should understand, she began to spell into my hand the story of Joseph and his brothers.
For a long time the ghosts and witches pursued me even into Dreamland.
But, with all my love for Shakespeare, it is often weary work to read all the meanings into his lines which critics and commentators have given them.
As they passed us, the large craft and the gunboats in the harbour saluted and the seamen shouted applause for the master of the only little sail-boat that ventured out into the storm.
Mr. Chamberlin initiated me into the mysteries of tree and wild-flower, until with the little ear of love I heard the flow of sap in the oak, and saw the sun glint from leaf to leaf.
Here the long, sunny days were mine, and all thoughts of work and college and the noisy city were thrust into the background.
The solemn nothings that fill our everyday life blossom suddenly into bright possibilities.
As a child I loved to sit on his knee and clasp his great hand with one of mine, while Miss Sullivan spelled into the other his beautiful words about God and the spiritual world.
I could not keep pace with all these literary folk as they glanced from subject to subject and entered into deep dispute, or made conversation sparkle with epigrams and happy witticisms.
Three months and a half after the first word was spelled into her hand, she wrote in pencil this letter
Then it is all ready to be manufactured into engines, stoves, kettles and many other things.
Little sister and I would take you out into the garden, and pick the delicious raspberries and a few strawberries for you.
Sometimes, when mother does not know it, she goes out into the vineyard, and gets her apron full of delicious grapes.
And Jesus, who is His Son, but is nearer to Him than all of us His other Children, came into the world on purpose to tell us all about our Father's Love.
The tongue is so serviceable a member (taking all sorts of shapes, just as is wanted),--the teeth, the lips, the roof of the mouth, all ready to help, and so heap up the sound of the voice into the solid bits which we call consonants, and make room for the curiously shaped breathings which we call vowels!
Education will bring light and music into Tommy's soul, and then he cannot help being happy.
He is poor and helpless and lonely now, but before another April education will have brought light and gladness into Tommy's life.
He has found out that doors have locks, and that little sticks and bits of paper can be got into the key-hole quite easily; but he does not seem very eager to get them out after they are in.
I hope that good people will continue to work for Tommy until his fund is completed, and education has brought light and music into his little life.
I went into the streets of Cairo, and rode on the camel.
They permitted themselves startling liberties when any one caressed them, crowding themselves almost into one's arms and helping themselves without ceremony to kisses, apparently unconscious of the impropriety of their conduct.
Some one balances the toboggan on the very crest of the hill, while we get on, and when we are ready, off we dash down the side of the hill in a headlong rush, and, leaping a projection, plunge into a snow-drift and go swimming far across the pond at a tremendous rate!...
Love always finds its way to an imprisoned soul, and leads it out into the world of freedom and intelligence!
Surely there are hearts and hands ever ready to make it possible for generous intentions to be wrought into noble deeds.
She saw, too, that her story properly fell into short chapters and redivided it.
The sense of smell has fallen into disrepute, and a deaf person is reluctant to speak of it.
Science and faith together led him to try to make his way into the soul which he believed was born in Laura Bridgman as in every other human being.
I forced her into a chair and held her there until I was nearly exhausted.
She kept coming up behind me and putting her hand on the paper and into the ink-bottle.
Then I let her out into the warm sunshine and went up to my room and threw myself on the bed exhausted.
She devoted herself to her dolls the first evening, and when it was bedtime she undressed very quietly, but when she felt me get into bed with her, she jumped out on the other side, and nothing that I could do would induce her to get in again.
After spelling half the words, she stopped suddenly, as if a thought had flashed into her mind, and felt for the napkin.
A new light came into her face.
Just then the nurse brought Helen's little sister into the pump-house, and Helen spelled "baby" and pointed to the nurse.
Last night when I got in bed, she stole into my arms of her own accord and kissed me for the first time, and I thought my heart would burst, so full was it of joy.
The child comes into the world with the ability to learn, and he learns of himself, provided he is supplied with sufficient outward stimulus.
These observations have given me a clue to the method to be followed in teaching Helen language.I SHALL TALK INTO HER HAND AS WE TALK INTO THE BABY'S EARS.
But when I spell into her hand, "Give me some bread," she hands me the bread, or if I say, "Get your hat and we will go to walk," she obeys instantly.
She evidently understood that VERY was the name of the new thing that had come into her head; for all the way back to the house she used the word VERY correctly.
She makes many mistakes, of course, twists words and phrases, puts the cart before the horse, and gets herself into hopeless tangles of nouns and verbs; but so does the hearing child.
My mind is full of ideas; but I cannot get them into working shape.
I can now tell her to go upstairs or down, out of doors or into the house, lock or unlock a door, take or bring objects, sit, stand, walk, run, lie, creep, roll, or climb.
If I refuse to talk to her, she spells into her own hand, and apparently carries on the liveliest conversation with herself.
She is much interested in some little chickens that are pecking their way into the world this morning.
We had Helen's picture taken with a fuzzy, red-eyed little poodle, who got himself into my lady's good graces by tricks and cunning devices known only to dogs with an instinct for getting what they want.
After thinking a moment she said, "My eyes are bad!" then she changed it into "My eyes are sick!"
Just then the nurse came into the cistern-house bringing her little sister.
Her mother and I cut up several sheets of printed words so that she could arrange them into sentences.
For a whole evening she will sit at the table writing whatever comes into her busy brain; and I seldom find any difficulty in reading what she has written.
Indeed, her whole body is so finely organized that she seems to use it as a medium for bringing herself into closer relations with her fellow creatures.
In my account of Helen last year, I mentioned several instances where she seemed to have called into use an inexplicable mental faculty; but it now seems to me, after carefully considering the matter, that this power may be explained by her perfect familiarity with the muscular variations of those with whom she comes into contact, caused by their emotions.
Then it is beautiful to observe with what patience, sweetness, and perseverance Helen endeavours to bring the unruly fingers of her little friend into proper position.
While not confining myself to any special system of instruction, I have tried to add to her general information and intelligence, to enlarge her acquaintance with things around her, and to bring her into easy and natural relations with people.
She is at once transported into the midst of the events of a story.
She even enters into the spirit of battle; she says, "I think it is right for men to fight against wrongs and tyrants."
When told of the instance in which Jesus raised the dead, she was much perplexed, saying, "I did not know life could come back into the dead body!"
All day long in their play-time and work-time Miss Sullivan kept spelling into her pupil's hand, and by that Helen Keller absorbed words, just as the child in the cradle absorbs words by hearing thousands of them before he uses one and by associating the words with the occasion of their utterance.
And the fact remains that she was taught by a method of teaching language to the deaf the essential principles of which are clearly expressed in Miss Sullivan's letters, written while she was discovering the method and putting it successfully into practice.
Her early rages were an unhappy expression of the natural force of character which instruction was to turn into trained and organized power.
When she is telling a child's story, or one with pathos in it, her voice runs into pretty slurs from one tone to another.
Children seldom have any difficulty in understanding her; which suggests that her deliberate measured speech is like theirs, before they come to the adult trick of running all the words of a phrase into one movement of the breath.
In the very nature of things, articulation is an unsatisfactory means of education; while the use of the manual alphabet quickens and invigorates mental activity, since through it the deaf child is brought into close contact with the English language, and the highest and most abstract ideas may be conveyed to the mind readily and accurately.
Occasionally she broke out into a merry laugh, and then she would reach out and touch the mouth of any one who happened to be near her, to see if he were laughing also.
Indeed, when some friend is trying to speak to Miss Keller, and the attempt is not proving successful, Miss Sullivan usually helps by spelling the lost words into Miss Keller's hand.
President Roosevelt had little difficulty last spring in making Miss Keller understand him, and especially requested Miss Sullivan not to spell into her hand.
It brings me into closer and tenderer relationship with those I love, and makes it possible for me to enjoy the sweet companionship of a great many persons from whom I should be entirely cut off if I could not talk.
* In this paper Miss Sullivan says: During this winter (1891-92) I went with her into the yard while a light snow was falling, and let her feel the falling flakes.
Now he found out that his father's words were true, for a few days of warm weather had turned the green balls into rosebuds, and they were SO beautiful that it was enough to make Birdie stand still before them, his blue eyes dancing with delight and his little hands clasped tightly together.
Then they began to wander merrily about searching for nuts, climbing trees, peeping curiously into the empty birds' nests, and playing hide and seek from behind the trees.
It shows how the child-mind gathers into itself words it has heard, and how they lurk there ready to come out when the key that releases the spring is touched.
This little story calls into life all the questions of language and the philosophy of style.
But early one morning the fever left me as mysteriously and unexpectedly as it had come, and I fell into a quiet sleep.
But, unfortunately, I struck my foot on a rock and fell forward into the cold water.
Every beautiful description, every deep thought glides insensibly into the same mournful chant of the brevity of life, of the slow decay and dissolution of all earthly things.
For the first time since my entrance into Radcliffe I had the opportunity to make friends with all my classmates...
Beautiful flower, you have taught me to see a little way into the hidden heart of things.
I plunged into the oncoming billows, as a strong swimmer dives into breakers, and struck, alas, 'tis true, the bedpost!
From the desperate city you go into the desperate country, and have to console yourself with the bravery of minks and muskrats.
As this business was to be entered into without the usual capital, it may not be easy to conjecture where those means, that will still be indispensable to every such undertaking, were to be obtained.
We may imagine a time when, in the infancy of the human race, some enterprising mortal crept into a hollow in a rock for shelter.
With consummate skill he has set his trap with a hair spring to catch comfort and independence, and then, as he turned away, got his own leg into it.
At present our houses are cluttered and defiled with it, and a good housewife would sweep out the greater part into the dust hole, and not leave her morning's work undone.
She lighted a lamp to show me the inside of the roof and the walls, and also that the board floor extended under the bed, warning me not to step into the cellar, a sort of dust hole two feet deep.
I took particular pleasure in this breaking of ground, for in almost all latitudes men dig into the earth for an equable temperature.
If you should ever be betrayed into any of these philanthropies, do not let your left hand know what your right hand does, for it is not worth knowing.
If, then, we would indeed restore mankind by truly Indian, botanic, magnetic, or natural means, let us first be as simple and well as Nature ourselves, dispel the clouds which hang over our own brows, and take up a little life into our pores.
The present was my next experiment of this kind, which I purpose to describe more at length, for convenience putting the experience of two years into one.
The very dew seemed to hang upon the trees later into the day than usual, as on the sides of mountains.
One value even of the smallest well is, that when you look into it you see that earth is not continent but insular.
Still we live meanly, like ants; though the fable tells us that we were long ago changed into men; like pygmies we fight with cranes; it is error upon error, and clout upon clout, and our best virtue has for its occasion a superfluous and evitable wretchedness.
The intellect is a cleaver; it discerns and rifts its way into the secret of things.
It may be translated into every language, and not only be read but actually breathed from all human lips;--not be represented on canvas or in marble only, but be carved out of the breath of life itself.
We need to be provoked--goaded like oxen, as we are, into a trot.
Read your fate, see what is before you, and walk on into futurity.
My days were not days of the week, bearing the stamp of any heathen deity, nor were they minced into hours and fretted by the ticking of a clock; for I lived like the Puri Indians, of whom it is said that "for yesterday, today, and tomorrow they have only one word, and they express the variety of meaning by pointing backward for yesterday forward for tomorrow, and overhead for the passing day."
All the Indian huckleberry hills are stripped, all the cranberry meadows are raked into the city.
This carload of torn sails is more legible and interesting now than if they should be wrought into paper and printed books.
Sometimes, on Sundays, I heard the bells, the Lincoln, Acton, Bedford, or Concord bell, when the wind was favorable, a faint, sweet, and, as it were, natural melody, worth importing into the wilderness.
At evening, the distant lowing of some cow in the horizon beyond the woods sounded sweet and melodious, and at first I would mistake it for the voices of certain minstrels by whom I was sometimes serenaded, who might be straying over hill and dale; but soon I was not unpleasantly disappointed when it was prolonged into the cheap and natural music of the cow.
A young forest growing up under your meadows, and wild sumachs and blackberry vines breaking through into your cellar; sturdy pitch pines rubbing and creaking against the shingles for want of room, their roots reaching quite under the house.
They who come rarely to the woods take some little piece of the forest into their hands to play with by the way, which they leave, either intentionally or accidentally.
You want room for your thoughts to get into sailing trim and run a course or two before they make their port.
The bullet of your thought must have overcome its lateral and ricochet motion and fallen into its last and steady course before it reaches the ear of the hearer, else it may plow out again through the side of his head.
In my house we were so near that we could not begin to hear--we could not speak low enough to be heard; as when you throw two stones into calm water so near that they break each other's undulations.
I had withdrawn so far within the great ocean of solitude, into which the rivers of society empty, that for the most part, so far as my needs were concerned, only the finest sediment was deposited around me.
And when the sound died quite away, and the hum had ceased, and the most favorable breezes told no tale, I knew that they had got the last drone of them all safely into the Middlesex hive, and that now their minds were bent on the honey with which it was smeared.
These are the coarsest mills, in which all gossip is first rudely digested or cracked up before it is emptied into finer and more delicate hoppers within doors.
It was very pleasant, when I stayed late in town, to launch myself into the night, especially if it was dark and tempestuous, and set sail from some bright village parlor or lecture room, with a bag of rye or Indian meal upon my shoulder, for my snug harbor in the woods, having made all tight without and withdrawn under hatches with a merry crew of thoughts, leaving only my outer man at the helm, or even tying up the helm when it was plain sailing.
But, looking directly down into our waters from a boat, they are seen to be of very different colors.
The shore is composed of a belt of smooth rounded white stones like paving-stones, excepting one or two short sand beaches, and is so steep that in many places a single leap will carry you into water over your head; and were it not for its remarkable transparency, that would be the last to be seen of its bottom till it rose on the opposite side.
It is earth's eye; looking into which the beholder measures the depth of his own nature.
But suddenly the dimples ceased, for they were produced by the perch, which the noise of my oars had seared into the depths, and I saw their schools dimly disappearing; so I spent a dry afternoon after all.
Sometimes it would come floating up to the shore; but when you went toward it, it would go back into deep water and disappear.
But put an extra condiment into your dish, and it will poison you.
Not that food which entereth into the mouth defileth a man, but the appetite with which it is eaten.
Oh, they swarm; the sun is too warm there; they are born too far into life for me.
I was as near being resolved into the essence of things as ever I was in my life.
The traveller does not often look into such a limpid well.
I took up the chip on which the three I have particularly described were struggling, carried it into my house, and placed it under a tumbler on my window-sill, in order to see the issue.
It was surprising how quickly he made up his mind and put his resolve into execution.
They never molested me seriously, though they bedded with me; and they gradually disappeared, into what crevices I do not know, avoiding winter and unspeakable cold.
Like the wasps, before I finally went into winter quarters in November, I used to resort to the northeast side of Walden, which the sun, reflected from the pitch pine woods and the stony shore, made the fireside of the pond; it is so much pleasanter and wholesomer to be warmed by the sun while you can be, than by an artificial fire.
He brought his own knife, though I had two, and we used to scour them by thrusting them into the earth.
As for the axe, I was advised to get the village blacksmith to "jump" it; but I jumped him, and, putting a hickory helve from the woods into it, made it do.
The laborer, looking into it at evening, purifies his thoughts of the dross and earthiness which they have accumulated during the day.
But I could no longer sit and look into the fire, and the pertinent words of a poet recurred to me with new force.
He gazed into the cellar from all sides and points of view by turns, always lying down to it, as if there was some treasure, which he remembered, concealed between the stones, where there was absolutely nothing but a heap of bricks and ashes.
It is frequently covered up by drifts, and, it is said, "sometimes plunges from on wing into the soft snow, where it remains concealed for a day or two."
At length the old hound burst into view with muzzle to the ground, and snapping the air as if possessed, and ran directly to the rock; but, spying the dead fox, she suddenly ceased her hounding as if struck dumb with amazement, and walked round and round him in silence; and one by one her pups arrived, and, like their mother, were sobered into silence by the mystery.
They waited in silence while he skinned the fox, then followed the brush a while, and at length turned off into the woods again.
The night veils without doubt a part of this glorious creation; but day comes to reveal to us this great work, which extends from earth even into the plains of the ether.
Such a rule of the two diameters not only guides us toward the sun in the system and the heart in man, but draws lines through the length and breadth of the aggregate of a man's particular daily behaviors and waves of life into his coves and inlets, and where they intersect will be the height or depth of his character.
At the advent of each individual into this life, may we not suppose that such a bar has risen to the surface somewhere?
It is true, we are such poor navigators that our thoughts, for the most part, stand off and on upon a harborless coast, are conversant only with the bights of the bays of poesy, or steer for the public ports of entry, and go into the dry docks of science, where they merely refit for this world, and no natural currents concur to individualize them.
They also showed me in another place what they thought was a "leach-hole," through which the pond leaked out under a hill into a neighboring meadow, pushing me out on a cake of ice to see it.
Sometimes one of those great cakes slips from the ice-man's sled into the village street, and lies there for a week like a great emerald, an object of interest to all passers.
A thermometer thrust into the middle of Walden on the 6th of March, 1847, stood at 32º, or freezing point; near the shore at 33º; in the middle of Flint's Pond, the same day, at 32º; at a dozen rods from the shore, in shallow water, under ice a foot thick, at 36º.
What makes this sand foliage remarkable is its springing into existence thus suddenly.
Even ice begins with delicate crystal leaves, as if it had flowed into moulds which the fronds of waterplants have impressed on the watery mirror.
The cheeks are a slide from the brows into the valley of the face, opposed and diffused by the cheek bones.
You may melt your metals and cast them into the most beautiful moulds you can; they will never excite me like the forms which this molten earth flows out into.
They were wholly deaf to my arguments, or failed to perceive their force, and fell into a strain of invective that was irresistible.
But when I stood on the shore they at once rose up with a great flapping of wings at the signal of their commander, and when they had got into rank circled about over my head, twenty-nine of them, and then steered straight to Canada, with a regular honk from the leader at intervals, trusting to break their fast in muddier pools.
And so the seasons went rolling on into summer, as one rambles into higher and higher grass.
It is remarkable how easily and insensibly we fall into a particular route, and make a beaten track for ourselves.
It is true, I fear, that others may have fallen into it, and so helped to keep it open.
Shall he turn his spring into summer?
One day it came into his mind to make a staff.
I live in the angle of a leaden wall, into whose composition was poured a little alloy of bell-metal.
I would not be one of those who will foolishly drive a nail into mere lath and plastering; such a deed would keep me awake nights.
Why do they not dissolve it themselves--the union between themselves and the State--and refuse to pay their quota into its treasury?
I came into this world, not chiefly to make this a good place to live in, but to live in it, be it good or bad.
But the jailer said, "Come, boys, it is time to lock up"; and so they dispersed, and I heard the sound of their steps returning into the hollow apartments.
It was like travelling into a far country, such as I had never expected to behold, to lie there for one night.
It was to see my native village in the light of the Middle Ages, and our Concord was turned into a Rhine stream, and visions of knights and castles passed before me.
You do not put your head into the fire.
"I have never made an effort," he says, "and never propose to make an effort; I have never countenanced an effort, and never mean to countenance an effort, to disturb the arrangement as originally made, by which the various States came into the Union."
From time to time she smoothed the folds of her dress, and whenever the story produced an effect she glanced at Anna Pavlovna, at once adopted just the expression she saw on the maid of honor's face, and again relapsed into her radiant smile.
Not letting the abbe and Pierre escape, Anna Pavlovna, the more conveniently to keep them under observation, brought them into the larger circle.
"How about my son Boris, Prince?" said she, hurrying after him into the anteroom.
Prince Andrew had gone out into the hall, and, turning his shoulders to the footman who was helping him on with his cloak, listened indifferently to his wife's chatter with Prince Hippolyte who had also come into the hall.
Pierre reaching the house first went into Prince Andrew's study like one quite at home, and from habit immediately lay down on the sofa, took from the shelf the first book that came to his hand (it was Caesar's Commentaries), and resting on his elbow, began reading it in the middle.
Suddenly the angry, squirrel-like expression of the princess' pretty face changed into a winning and piteous look of fear.
"But what is there to say about me?" said Pierre, his face relaxing into a careless, merry smile.
Anatole did not release him, and though he kept nodding to show that he understood, Anatole went on translating Dolokhov's words into English.
The lad jumped awkwardly back into the room, tripping over his spurs.
The matter was mentioned to the Emperor, an exception made, and Boris transferred into the regiment of Semenov Guards with the rank of cornet.
She leaned against her mother and burst into such a loud, ringing fit of laughter that even the prim visitor could not help joining in.
She took his arm and with a happy face went with him into the adjoining sitting room.
You came rushing into the drawing room so that everyone felt ashamed of you.
And like a practical Petersburg lady who knows how to make the most of time, Anna Mikhaylovna sent someone to call her son, and went into the anteroom with him.
But Boris spoke distinctly, clearly, and dryly, looking straight into Pierre's eyes.
Pierre, in order to make Boris' better acquaintance, promised to come to dinner, and warmly pressing his hand looked affectionately over his spectacles into Boris' eyes.
The count took the gentlemen into his study and showed them his choice collection of Turkish pipes.
The count, by his guests, went into the drawing room.
The countess rose and went into the ballroom.
The count, holding his cards fanwise, kept himself with difficulty from dropping into his usual after-dinner nap, and laughed at everything.
Meanwhile Prince Vasili had opened the door into the princess' room.
The princess, holding her little dog on her lap with her thin bony hands, looked attentively into Prince Vasili's eyes evidently resolved not to be the first to break silence, if she had to wait till morning.
This door led into a back anteroom.
The first door on the left led into the princesses' apartments.
From the passage they went into a large, dimly lit room adjoining the count's reception room.
They went into the reception room familiar to Pierre, with two Italian windows opening into the conservatory, with its large bust and full length portrait of Catherine the Great.
Pierre went with Anna Mikhaylovna into the small drawing room.
Anna Mikhaylovna, stooping, quickly caught up the object of contention and ran into the bedroom.
And bursting into tears she hid her face in her handkerchief and rushed from the room.
Death is awful... and he burst into tears.
She led him into the dark drawing room and Pierre was glad no one could see his face.
After a few more turns of the lathe he removed his foot from the pedal, wiped his chisel, dropped it into a leather pouch attached to the lathe, and, approaching the table, summoned his daughter.
Having read thus far, Princess Mary sighed and glanced into the mirror which stood on her right.
She brought into Princess Mary's strenuous, mournful, and gloomy world a quite different atmosphere, careless, lighthearted, and self-satisfied.
The princess glanced at her watch and, seeing that she was five minutes late in starting her practice on the clavichord, went into the sitting room with a look of alarm.
Prince Andrew got out of the carriage, helped his little wife to alight, and let her pass into the house before him.
He explained how an army, ninety thousand strong, was to threaten Prussia so as to bring her out of her neutrality and draw her into the war; how part of that army was to join some Swedish forces at Stralsund; how two hundred and twenty thousand Austrians, with a hundred thousand Russians, were to operate in Italy and on the Rhine; how fifty thousand Russians and as many English were to land at Naples, and how a total force of five hundred thousand men was to attack the French from different sides.
The prince, who generally kept very strictly to social distinctions and rarely admitted even important government officials to his table, had unexpectedly selected Michael Ivanovich (who always went into a corner to blow his nose on his checked handkerchief) to illustrate the theory that all men are equals, and had more than once impressed on his daughter that Michael Ivanovich was "not a whit worse than you or I."
"I'm glad, glad, to see you," he said, looking attentively into her eyes, and then quickly went to his place and sat down.
"The past always seems good," said he, "but did not Suvorov himself fall into a trap Moreau set him, and from which he did not know how to escape?"
When they left the table she took her sister-in-law's arm and drew her into another room.
We should enter into everyone's situation.
He seized his son by the hand with small bony fingers, shook it, looked straight into his son's face with keen eyes which seemed to see through him, and again laughed his frigid laugh.
He cautiously released the shoulder she leaned on, looked into her face, and carefully placed her in an easy chair.
The regimental commander, going up to the line himself, ordered the soldiers to change into their greatcoats.
Has he been degraded into a field marshal, or into a soldier?
Dolokhov, who had already changed into a soldier's gray greatcoat, did not wait to be called.
See, the fifth company is turning into the village already... they will have their buckwheat cooked before we reach our quarters.
On returning from the review, Kutuzov took the Austrian general into his private room and, calling his adjutant, asked for some papers relating to the condition of the troops on their arrival, and the letters that had come from the Archduke Ferdinand, who was in command of the advanced army.
Prince Andrew Bolkonski came into the room with the required papers.
And believe me on my honour that to me personally it would be a pleasure to hand over the supreme command of the army into the hands of a better informed and more skillful general--of whom Austria has so many--and to lay down all this heavy responsibility.
He gathered up the papers and with a bow to both, stepped softly over the carpet and went out into the waiting room.
Coming out of Kutuzov's room into the waiting room with the papers in his hand Prince Andrew came up to his comrade, the aide-de-camp on duty, Kozlovski, who was sitting at the window with a book.
He took out a notebook, hurriedly scribbled something in pencil, tore out the leaf, gave it to Kozlovski, stepped quickly to the window, and threw himself into a chair, gazing at those in the room as if asking, "Why do they look at me?"
They went through the porch and into the stable.
"Well, young man?" he said with a sigh, and from under his lifted brows he glanced into Rostov's eyes.
We're to go into action, gentlemen!
We're going into action, gentlemen!
Looking down at the waters of the Enns under the bridge, Nesvitski suddenly heard a sound new to him, of something swiftly approaching... something big, that splashed into the water.
I'm going into action!
With his shaggy head thrown back like birds when they drink, pressing his spurs mercilessly into the sides of his good horse, Bedouin, and sitting as though falling backwards in the saddle, he galloped to the other flank of the squadron and shouted in a hoarse voice to the men to look to their pistols.
His hand trembled as he gave his horse into an orderly's charge, and he felt the blood rush to his heart with a thud.
Nicholas Rostov turned away and, as if searching for something, gazed into the distance, at the waters of the Danube, at the sky, and at the sun.
At that instant the sun began to hide behind the clouds, and other stretchers came into view before Rostov.
And the fear of death and of the stretchers, and love of the sun and of life, all merged into one feeling of sickening agitation.
After washing and dressing, Prince Andrew came into the diplomat's luxurious study and sat down to the dinner prepared for him.
Now his forehead would pucker into deep folds and his eyebrows were lifted, then his eyebrows would descend and deep wrinkles would crease his cheeks.
"Yes, that all happened!" he said, and, smiling happily to himself like a child, he fell into a deep, youthful slumber.
Recalling his recent impressions, the first thought that came into his mind was that today he had to be presented to the Emperor Francis; he remembered the Minister of War, the polite Austrian adjutant, Bilibin, and last night's conversation.
Having dressed for his attendance at court in full parade uniform, which he had not worn for a long time, he went into Bilibin's study fresh, animated, and handsome, with his hand bandaged.
From politeness and to start conversation, they asked him a few questions about the army and the battle, and then the talk went off into merry jests and gossip.
"Oh, your excellency!" said Franz, with difficulty rolling the portmanteau into the vehicle, "we are to move on still farther.
"I'll flatten you into a pancake!" shouted the angry officer to the soldier.
Go back or I'll flatten you into a pancake, repeated he.
"Well, I have got all I need into packs for two horses," said Nesvitski.
Kutuzov went out into the porch with Bagration.
His face suddenly softened and tears came into his eyes.
They got into the carriage and drove for a few minutes in silence.
They were still firing, not at the cavalry which had disappeared, but at French infantry who had come into the hollow and were firing at our men.
The head of the column had already descended into the hollow.
But our left--which consisted of the Azov and Podolsk infantry and the Pavlograd hussars--was simultaneously attacked and outflanked by superior French forces under Lannes and was thrown into confusion.
"Faster!" came the word of command, and Rostov felt Rook's flanks drooping as he broke into a gallop.
"Let anyone come my way now," thought Rostov driving his spurs into Rook and letting him go at a full gallop so that he outstripped the others.
Despite his desperate shouts that used to seem so terrible to the soldiers, despite his furious purple countenance distorted out of all likeness to his former self, and the flourishing of his saber, the soldiers all continued to run, talking, firing into the air, and disobeying orders.
The soldier was pale, his blue eyes looked impudently into the commander's face, and his lips were smiling.
The gloom that enveloped the army was filled with their groans, which seemed to melt into one with the darkness of the night.
The sound of voices, the tramping feet, the horses' hoofs moving in mud, the crackling of wood fires near and afar, merged into one tremulous rumble.
Thanks for the fire--we'll return it with interest, said he, carrying away into the darkness a glowing stick.
And they disappeared into the darkness with their load.
Prince Bagration was thanking the individual commanders and inquiring into details of the action and our losses.
He was afraid of getting some other officer into trouble, and silently fixed his eyes on Bagration as a schoolboy who has blundered looks at an examiner.
The angry eldest princess, with the long waist and hair plastered down like a doll's, had come into Pierre's room after the funeral.
We'll go into the accounts later.
Into the insignificant, trifling, and artificial interests uniting that society had entered the simple feeling of the attraction of a healthy and handsome young man and woman for one another.
After supper Pierre with his partner followed the others into the drawing room.
The princess went up to the door, passed by it with a dignified and indifferent air, and glanced into the little drawing room.
Shaking himself, he rose, threw back his head, and with resolute steps went past the ladies into the little drawing room.
And now, from the hints contained in his letter and given by the little princess, he saw which way the wind was blowing, and his low opinion changed into a feeling of contemptuous ill will.
"You know they've come, Marie?" said the little princess, waddling in, and sinking heavily into an armchair.
Prince Vasili readily adopted her tone and the little princess also drew Anatole, whom she hardly knew, into these amusing recollections of things that had never occurred.
After tea, the company went into the sitting room and Princess Mary was asked to play on the clavichord.
Her favorite sonata bore her into a most intimately poetic world and the look she felt upon her made that world still more poetic.
She did not know how she found the courage, but she looked straight into his handsome face as it came near to her shortsighted eyes.
They all separated, but, except Anatole who fell asleep as soon as he got into bed, all kept awake a long time that night.
"No good... no good..." said the prince rapidly, and thrusting his feet into his slippers and his arms into the sleeves of his dressing gown, he went to the couch on which he slept.
He will take you with your dowry and take Mademoiselle Bourienne into the bargain.
She lowered her head and was ready to burst into tears.
Anna Mikhaylovna, who always knew everything that passed in the house, on hearing of the arrival of the letter went softly into the room and found the count with it in his hand, sobbing and laughing at the same time.
When she heard this Sonya blushed so that tears came into her eyes and, unable to bear the looks turned upon her, ran away into the dancing hall, whirled round it at full speed with her dress puffed out like a balloon, and, flushed and smiling, plumped down on the floor.
"Well, they've sent you a tidy sum," said Berg, eying the heavy purse that sank into the sofa.
Do go somewhere, anywhere... to the devil!" he exclaimed, and immediately seizing him by the shoulder and looking amiably into his face, evidently wishing to soften the rudeness of his words, he added, "Don't be hurt, my dear fellow; you know I speak from my heart as to an old acquaintance."
He looked intently and inquiringly into his friend's eyes, evidently trying in vain to find the answer to some question.
Again Rostov looked intently into Boris' eyes and sighed.
He could not tell them simply that everyone went at a trot and that he fell off his horse and sprained his arm and then ran as hard as he could from a Frenchman into the wood.
It seemed as though not the trumpeters were playing, but as if the army itself, rejoicing at the Emperors' approach, had naturally burst into music.
"My God, how happy I should be if he ordered me to leap into the fire this instant!" thought Rostov.
Prince Andrew was in and Boris was shown into a large hall probably formerly used for dancing, but in which five beds now stood, and furniture of various kinds: a table, chairs, and a clavichord.
The one who was writing and whom Boris addressed turned round crossly and told him Bolkonski was on duty and that he should go through the door on the left into the reception room if he wished to see him.
At dawn on the sixteenth of November, Denisov's squadron, in which Nicholas Rostov served and which was in Prince Bagration's detachment, moved from the place where it had spent the night, advancing into action as arranged, and after going behind other columns for about two thirds of a mile was stopped on the highroad.
He brought with him into our rearguard all the freshness of atmosphere of the French army, which was so alien to us.
The shouting grew still louder and merged into a general roar that only an army of several thousand men could produce.
The smoke of the campfires, into which they were throwing everything superfluous, made the eyes smart.
The officers were hurriedly drinking tea and breakfasting, the soldiers, munching biscuit and beating a tattoo with their feet to warm themselves, gathering round the fires throwing into the flames the remains of sheds, chairs, tables, wheels, tubs, and everything that they did not want or could not carry away with them.
As soon as an Austrian officer showed himself near a commanding officer's quarters, the regiment began to move: the soldiers ran from the fires, thrust their pipes into their boots, their bags into the carts, got their muskets ready, and formed rank.
And the feeling of energy with which the troops had started began to turn into vexation and anger at the stupid arrangements and at the Germans.
In this way the action began for the first, second, and third columns, which had gone down into the valley.
Part of the Russian force had already descended into the valley toward the ponds and lakes and part were leaving these Pratzen Heights which he intended to attack and regarded as the key to the position.
At eight o'clock Kutuzov rode to Pratzen at the head of the fourth column, Miloradovich's, the one that was to take the place of Przebyszewski's and Langeron's columns which had already gone down into the valley.
Nothing was visible in the valley to the left into which our troops had descended and from whence came the sounds of firing.
"Do order them to form into battalion columns and go round the village!" he said angrily to a general who had ridden up.
An Austrian officer in a white uniform with green plumes in his hat galloped up to Kutuzov and asked in the Emperor's name had the fourth column advanced into action.
The Tsar looked intently and observantly into Kutuzov's eye waiting to hear whether he would say anything more.
Give it them! he mentally exclaimed at these sounds, and again proceeded to gallop along the line, penetrating farther and farther into the region where the army was already in action.
Rostov, fearing to be crushed or swept into the attack on the French, galloped along the front as hard as his horse could go, but still was not in time to avoid them.
"Can you imagine it?" and he began describing how the Guards, having taken up their position and seeing troops before them, thought they were Austrians, and all at once discovered from the cannon balls discharged by those troops that they were themselves in the front line and had unexpectedly to go into action.
The foreboding of evil that had suddenly come over Rostov was more and more confirmed the farther he rode into the region behind the village of Pratzen, which was full of troops of all kinds.
The sensation of those terrible whistling sounds and of the corpses around him merged in Rostov's mind into a single feeling of terror and pity for himself.
It flopped into something moist, and the general fell from his horse in a pool of blood.
The ice gave way under one of the foremost soldiers, and one leg slipped into the water.
Still the cannon balls continued regularly to whistle and flop onto the ice and into the water and oftenest of all among the crowd that covered the dam, the pond, and the bank.
Looking into Napoleon's eyes Prince Andrew thought of the insignificance of greatness, the unimportance of life which no one could understand, and the still greater unimportance of death, the meaning of which no one alive could understand or explain.
Toward morning all these dreams melted and merged into the chaos and darkness of unconciousness and oblivion which in the opinion of Napoleon's doctor, Larrey, was much more likely to end in death than in convalescence.
He sprang out before the sleigh stopped, and ran into the hall.
Sonya, Natasha, Petya, Anna Mikhaylovna, Vera, and the old count were all hugging him, and the serfs, men and maids, flocked into the room, exclaiming and oh-ing and ah-ing.
Denisov, who had come into the room unnoticed by anyone, stood there and wiped his eyes at the sight.
Natasha had put on one spurred boot and was just getting her foot into the other.
Sonya, when he came in, was twirling round and was about to expand her dresses into a balloon and sit down.
Sonya ran away, but Natasha, taking her brother's arm, led him into the sitting room, where they began talking.
Sitting on the sofa with the little cushions on its arms, in what used to be his old schoolroom, and looking into Natasha's wildly bright eyes, Rostov re-entered that world of home and childhood which had no meaning for anyone else, but gave him some of the best joys of his life; and the burning of an arm with a ruler as a proof of love did not seem to him senseless, he understood and was not surprised at it.
He went to balls and into ladies' society with an affectation of doing so against his will.
He remembered the expression Dolokhov's face assumed in his moments of cruelty, as when tying the policeman to the bear and dropping them into the water, or when he challenged a man to a duel without any reason, or shot a post-boy's horse with a pistol.
Dolokhov walked slowly without raising his pistol, looking intently with his bright, sparkling blue eyes into his antagonist's face.
"So I can fire when I like!" said Pierre, and at the word "three," he went quickly forward, missing the trodden path and stepping into the deep snow.
Pierre clutched his temples, and turning round went into the forest, trampling through the deep snow, and muttering incoherent words:
My mother, my angel, my adored angel mother, and Dolokhov pressed Rostov's hand and burst into tears.
"Louis XVI was executed because they said he was dishonorable and a criminal," came into Pierre's head, "and from their point of view they were right, as were those too who canonized him and died a martyr's death for his sake.
But at the moment when he imagined himself calmed by such reflections, she suddenly came into his mind as she was at the moments when he had most strongly expressed his insincere love for her, and he felt the blood rush to his heart and had again to get up and move about and break and tear whatever came to his hand.
Next morning when the valet came into the room with his coffee, Pierre was lying asleep on the ottoman with an open book in his hand.
The princess sank helplessly into an armchair beside her father and wept.
It was evident that her eyes did not see Princess Mary but were looking within... into herself... at something joyful and mysterious taking place within her.
The men servants were carrying the large leather sofa from Prince Andrew's study into the bedroom.
He went into his wife's room.
Two hours later Prince Andrew, stepping softly, went into his father's room.
Rostov, flushing, drew Dolokhov into the next room.
"Everything's still the same with them," thought Nicholas, glancing into the drawing room, where he saw Vera and his mother with the old lady.
And suddenly the whole world centered for him on anticipation of the next note, the next phrase, and everything in the world was divided into three beats: "Oh mio crudele affetto."...
Nicholas tried to say "Yes," but could not: and he nearly burst into sobs.
And seizing his father's hand, he pressed it to his lips and burst into tears.
The postmaster, his wife, the valet, and a peasant woman selling Torzhok embroidery came into the room offering their services.
God could not have put into her heart an impulse that was against His will.
Pierre began to feel a sense of uneasiness, and the need, even the inevitability, of entering into conversation with this stranger.
"Yes, I belong to the Brotherhood of the Freemasons," said the stranger, looking deeper and deeper into Pierre's eyes.
Pierre listened with swelling heart, gazing into the Mason's face with shining eyes, not interrupting or questioning him, but believing with his whole soul what the stranger said.
Can I receive that pure liquid into an impure vessel and judge of its purity?
A person of very high standing in our Brotherhood has made application for you to be received into our Order before the usual term and has proposed to me to be your sponsor.
From there they passed into another room.
With bated breath and beating heart he moved toward the Rhetor (by which name the brother who prepared a seeker for entrance into the Brotherhood was known).
Soon after this there came into the dark chamber to fetch Pierre, not the Rhetor but Pierre's sponsor, Willarski, whom he recognized by his voice.
Let into the wall was a star-shaped light.
You behaved as becomes a man who values his honor, perhaps too hastily, but we won't go into that.
After that Anna Pavlovna led up to the courage and firmness of the King of Prussia, in order to draw Boris into the conversation.
He was continually traveling through the three provinces entrusted to him, was pedantic in the fulfillment of his duties, severe to cruel with his subordinates, and went into everything down to the minutest details himself.
"If you please, your excellency, Petrusha has brought some papers," said one of the nursemaids to Prince Andrew who was sitting on a child's little chair while, frowning and with trembling hands, he poured drops from a medicine bottle into a wineglass half full of water.
"What is it?" he said crossly, and, his hand shaking unintentionally, he poured too many drops into the glass.
"No, pardon me, I won't go now till the child is better," thought he, going to the door and looking into the nursery.
Then he bursts into one of his wild furies and rages at everyone and everything, seizes the letters, opens them, and reads those from the Emperor addressed to others.
Despite Count Bezukhov's enormous wealth, since he had come into an income which was said to amount to five hundred thousand rubles a year, Pierre felt himself far poorer than when his father had made him an allowance of ten thousand rubles.
Pierre looked silently and searchingly into Prince Andrew's face, which had grown much older.
In the evening Andrew and Pierre got into the open carriage and drove to Bald Hills.
"Really?" said Pierre, gazing over his spectacles with curiosity and seriousness (for which Princess Mary was specially grateful to him) into Ivanushka's face, who, seeing that she was being spoken about, looked round at them all with crafty eyes.
I saw it myself, master, the star is fixed into the icon.
How did the star get into the icon?
I'd sleep a bit and then again go and kiss the relics, and there was such peace all around, such blessedness, that one don't want to come out, even into the light of heaven again.
Prince Andrew went out of the room, and then, leaving "God's folk" to finish their tea, Princess Mary took Pierre into the drawing room.
Prince Andrew and Pierre also went out into the porch.
The whole world was divided into two unequal parts: one, our Pavlograd regiment; the other, all the rest.
Having once more entered into the definite conditions of this regimental life, Rostov felt the joy and relief a tired man feels on lying down to rest.
The hut was made in the following manner, which had then come into vogue.
Five minutes later, Denisov came into the hut, climbed with muddy boots on the bed, lit his pipe, furiously scattered his things about, took his leaded whip, buckled on his saber, and went out again.
But at noon the adjutant of the regiment came into Rostov's and Denisov's dugout with a grave and serious face and regretfully showed them a paper addressed to Major Denisov from the regimental commander in which inquiries were made about yesterday's occurrence.
The case, as represented by the offended parties, was that, after seizing the transports, Major Denisov, being drunk, went to the chief quartermaster and without any provocation called him a thief, threatened to strike him, and on being led out had rushed into the office and given two officials a thrashing, and dislocated the arm of one of them.
Perhaps at another time Denisov would not have left the regiment for so slight a wound, but now he took advantage of it to excuse himself from appearing at the staff and went into hospital.
"But if you'll step into the officers' wards you'll see for yourself," he added, turning to Rostov.
Rostov and the assistant went into the dark corridor.
Rostov went to the middle of the room and looking through the open doors into the two adjoining rooms saw the same thing there.
"Here, here," and Tushin led him into the next room, from whence came sounds of several laughing voices.
At the moment the Emperors went into the pavilion he looked at his watch, and did not forget to look at it again when Alexander came out.
The look of annoyance had already disappeared from Boris' face: having evidently reflected and decided how to act, he very quietly took both Rostov's hands and led him into the next room.
As if you could come at a wrong time! said Boris, and he led him into the room where the supper table was laid and introduced him to his guests, explaining that he was not a civilian, but an hussar officer, and an old friend of his.
Zhilinski evidently did not receive this new Russian person very willingly into his circle and did not speak to Rostov.
They went into the little room where Boris slept.
Boris, with one leg crossed over the other and stroking his left hand with the slender fingers of his right, listened to Rostov as a general listens to the report of a subordinate, now looking aside and now gazing straight into Rostov's eyes with the same veiled look.
Rostov went back into the hall and noticed that in the porch there were many officers and generals in full parade uniform, whom he had to pass.
In the uniform of the Preobrazhensk regiment--white chamois-leather breeches and high boots-- and wearing a star Rostov did not know (it was that of the Legion d'honneur), the monarch came out into the porch, putting on his gloves and carrying his hat under his arm.
This was said by the undersized Napoleon, looking up straight into Alexander's eyes.
It was already the beginning of June when on his return journey he drove into the birch forest where the gnarled old oak had made so strange and memorable an impression on him.
And if anyone came into his room at such moments he was particularly cold, stern, and above all unpleasantly logical.
He divided the Brothers he knew into four categories.
And so toward the end of the year he went abroad to be initiated into the higher secrets of the order.
At that time, as always happens, the highest society that met at court and at the grand balls was divided into several circles, each with its own particular tone.
That is why I should really like to save him from evil and lead him into the path of truth, but evil thoughts of him did not leave me.
And tears came into my eyes, and I was glad he noticed this.
And suddenly I saw him lying like a dead body; then he gradually recovered and went with me into my study carrying a large book of sheets of drawing paper; I said, "I drew that," and he answered by bowing his head.
The count was so disconcerted by this long-foreseen inquiry that without consideration he gave the first reply that came into his head.
When she heard of his arrival she almost ran into the drawing room, flushed and beaming with a more than cordial smile.
Natasha jumped on it, sank into the feather bed, rolled over to the wall, and began snuggling up the bedclothes as she settled down, raising her knees to her chin, kicking out and laughing almost inaudibly, now covering herself up head and all, and now peeping at her mother.
"Just so, just so," repeated the countess, and shaking all over, she went off into a good humored, unexpected, elderly laugh.
At a quarter past ten they at last got into their carriages and started.
All was blended into one brilliant procession.
That tremulous expression on Natasha's face, prepared either for despair or rapture, suddenly brightened into a happy, grateful, childlike smile.
Hardly had he got rid of his hat before he ran into Prince Andrew's room with a preoccupied air and at once began talking.
Stolypin, stuttering, broke into the conversation and began excitedly talking of the abuses that existed under the former order of things--threatening to give a serious turn to the conversation.
All rose and continuing to talk loudly went into the drawing room.
He recalled his labors on the Legal Code, and how painstakingly he had translated the articles of the Roman and French codes into Russian, and he felt ashamed of himself.
Then he vividly pictured to himself Bogucharovo, his occupations in the country, his journey to Ryazan; he remembered the peasants and Dron the village elder, and mentally applying to them the Personal Rights he had divided into paragraphs, he felt astonished that he could have spent so much time on such useless work.
Having lit his candle he sat up in bed, then got up, then lay down again not at all troubled by his sleeplessness: his soul was as fresh and joyful as if he had stepped out of a stuffy room into God's own fresh air.
Berg explained so clearly why he wanted to collect at his house a small but select company, and why this would give him pleasure, and why though he grudged spending money on cards or anything harmful, he was prepared to run into some expense for the sake of good society--that Pierre could not refuse, and promised to come.
"Don't talk rubbish..." said Prince Andrew, smiling and looking into Pierre's eyes.
He could not comprehend how anyone could wish to alter his life or introduce anything new into it, when his own life was already ending.
Passing a mirror she glanced into it.
Pale and agitated, Natasha ran into the drawing room.
He remained silent, looking into her eyes.
Prince Andrew held her hands, looked into her eyes, and did not find in his heart his former love for her.
"Did your mother tell you that it cannot be for a year?" asked Prince Andrew, still looking into her eyes.
Natasha suddenly cried, and again burst into sobs.
She looked into her lover's face and saw in it a look of commiseration and perplexity.
The father and mother came into the room and gave the betrothed couple their blessing.
"You want to make him"--little Nicholas--"into an old maid like yourself!
Go out into the frost... the frost... the frost!
Mitenka flew headlong down the six steps and ran away into the shrubbery.
The young count paid no heed to them, but, breathing hard, passed by with resolute strides and went into the house.
The earth in the kitchen garden looked wet and black and glistened like poppy seed and at a short distance merged into the dull, moist veil of mist.
Nicholas went out into the wet and muddy porch.
He says she's moved them into the Otradnoe enclosure.
Daniel himself felt this, and as usual stood just inside the door, trying to speak softly and not move, for fear of breaking something in the master's apartment, and he hastened to say all that was necessary so as to get from under that ceiling, out into the open under the sky once more.
The horses stepped over the field as over a thick carpet, now and then splashing into puddles as they crossed a road.
The hounds were joined into one pack, and "Uncle" and Nicholas rode on side by side.
His voice seemed to fill the whole wood and carried far beyond out into the open field.
After listening a few moments in silence, the count and his attendant convinced themselves that the hounds had separated into two packs: the sound of the larger pack, eagerly giving tongue, began to die away in the distance, the other pack rushed by the wood past the count, and it was with this that Daniel's voice was heard calling ulyulyu.
The wolf paused, turned its heavy forehead toward the dogs awkwardly, like a man suffering from the quinsy, and, still slightly swaying from side to side, gave a couple of leaps and with a swish of its tail disappeared into the skirt of the wood.
He was galloping round by the bushes while the field was coming up on both sides, all trying to head the wolf, but it vanished into the wood before they could do so.
He knew that young and old wolves were there, that the hounds had separated into two packs, that somewhere a wolf was being chased, and that something had gone wrong.
The first to come into view was Milka, with her black markings and powerful quarters, gaining upon the wolf.
But here Nicholas only saw that something happened to Karay--the borzoi was suddenly on the wolf, and they rolled together down into a gully just in front of them.
At midday they put the hounds into a ravine thickly overgrown with young trees.
The hunt servants fell into line.
Rugay, his back still muddy, came into the room and lay down on the sofa, cleaning himself with his tongue and teeth.
They looked at one another (now that the hunt was over and they were in the house, Nicholas no longer considered it necessary to show his manly superiority over his sister), Natasha gave him a wink, and neither refrained long from bursting into a peal of ringing laughter even before they had a pretext ready to account for it.
Natasha and Nicholas got into the other.
Natasha was still as much in love with her betrothed, found the same comfort in that love, and was still as ready to throw herself into all the pleasures of life as before; but at the end of the fourth month of their separation she began to have fits of depression which she could not master.
Natasha came into the room, went up to Sonya, glanced at what she was doing, and then went up to her mother and stood without speaking.
She passed into the sitting room, stood there thinking awhile, and then went into the maids' room.
The thought has come into my mind that I was already tired of it all, and that we must all die.
The Egyptians believed that our souls have lived in animals, and will go back into animals again.
The mummers (some of the house serfs) dressed up as bears, Turks, innkeepers, and ladies--frightening and funny--bringing in with them the cold from outside and a feeling of gaiety, crowded, at first timidly, into the anteroom, then hiding behind one another they pushed into the ballroom where, shyly at first and then more and more merrily and heartily, they started singing, dancing, and playing Christmas games.
The countess, when she had identified them and laughed at their costumes, went into the drawing room.
Natasha was foremost in setting a merry holiday tone, which, passing from one to another, grew stronger and reached its climax when they all came out into the frost and got into the sleighs, talking, calling to one another, laughing, and shouting.
The near side horse, arching his head and breaking into a short canter, tugged at his traces.
They were quietly dropping melted wax into snow and looking at the shadows the wax figures would throw on the wall, when they heard the steps and voices of new arrivals in the vestibule.
Hussars, ladies, witches, clowns, and bears, after clearing their throats and wiping the hoarfrost from their faces in the vestibule, came into the ballroom where candles were hurriedly lighted.
Natasha, the young Melyukovs' favorite, disappeared with them into the back rooms where a cork and various dressing gowns and male garments were called for and received from the footman by bare girlish arms from behind the door.
"And who is this?" she asked her governess, peering into the face of her own daughter dressed up as a Kazan-Tartar.
Sonya went out into the passage to go to the barn.
On the way back Nicholas drove at a steady pace instead of racing and kept peering by that fantastic all-transforming light into Sonya's face and searching beneath the eyebrows and mustache for his former and his present Sonya from whom he had resolved never to be parted again.
With Sonya's help and the maid's, Natasha got the glass she held into the right position opposite the other; her face assumed a serious expression and she sat silent.
Natasha began, and without replying to Sonya's words of comfort she got into bed, and long after her candle was out lay open-eyed and motionless, gazing at the moonlight through the frosty windowpanes.
Coldly, without looking at her son, she sent for her husband and, when he came, tried briefly and coldly to inform him of the facts, in her son's presence, but unable to restrain herself she burst into tears of vexation and left the room.
As soon as he sank into his place on the sofa after two bottles of Margaux he was surrounded, and talking, disputing, and joking began.
He was only quite at ease when having poured several glasses of wine mechanically into his large mouth he felt a pleasant warmth in his body, an amiability toward all his fellows, and a readiness to respond superficially to every idea without probing it deeply.
She did not go out into society; everyone knew that her father would not let her go anywhere without him, and his failing health prevented his going out himself, so that she was not invited to dinners and evening parties.
A few minutes later Mademoiselle Bourienne came into Princess Mary's room smiling and making cheerful remarks in her agreeable voice.
"Leave my room," she exclaimed, and burst into sobs.
Then he slammed the door, sent for Mademoiselle Bourienne, and subsided into his study.
When they went into the drawing room where coffee was served, the old men sat together.
"May I stay a little longer?" he said, letting his stout body sink into an armchair beside her.
"Really?" asked Princess Mary, looking into Pierre's kindly face and still thinking of her own sorrow.
But without finishing what she was saying, Princess Mary burst into tears.
Late one evening the Rostovs' four sleighs drove into Marya Dmitrievna's courtyard in the old Konyusheny street.
Then a maidservant ran into the hall and hurriedly said something, mentioning the princess.
Natasha suddenly shrank into herself and involuntarily assumed an offhand air which alienated Princess Mary still more.
Having fallen into the line of carriages, the Rostovs' carriage drove up to the theater, its wheels squeaking over the snow.
"Oh yes, I heard it today," said Shinshin, coming into the Rostovs' box.
What right has he not to wish to receive me into his family?
In the front, in the very center, leaning back against the orchestra rail, stood Dolokhov in a Persian dress, his curly hair brushed up into a huge shock.
A tall, beautiful woman with a mass of plaited hair and much exposed plump white shoulders and neck, round which she wore a double string of large pearls, entered the adjoining box rustling her heavy silk dress and took a long time settling into her place.
And feeling the bright light that flooded the whole place and the warm air heated by the crowd, Natasha little by little began to pass into a state of intoxication she had not experienced for a long while.
Almost smiling, he gazed straight into her eyes with such an enraptured caressing look that it seemed strange to be so near him, to look at him like that, to be so sure he admired her, and not to be acquainted with him.
To get better acquainted she asked that one of the young ladies should come into her box for the rest of the performance, and Natasha moved over to it.
Then one of the men went into a corner of the stage.
During the entr'acte a whiff of cold air came into Helene's box, the door opened, and Anatole entered, stooping and trying not to brush against anyone.
When she was not looking at him she felt that he was looking at her shoulders, and she involuntarily caught his eye so that he should look into hers rather than this.
But looking into his eyes she was frightened, realizing that there was not that barrier of modesty she had always felt between herself and other men.
She smiled just as he was doing, gazing straight into his eyes.
Dolokhov, who needed Anatole Kuragin's name, position, and connections as a bait to draw rich young men into his gambling set, made use of him and amused himself at his expense without letting the other feel it.
After she had gone, a dressmaker from Madame Suppert-Roguet waited on the Rostovs, and Natasha, very glad of this diversion, having shut herself into a room adjoining the drawing room, occupied herself trying on the new dresses.
Natasha had not time to take off the bodice before the door opened and Countess Bezukhova, dressed in a purple velvet gown with a high collar, came into the room beaming with good-humored amiable smiles.
Mademoiselle George, with her bare, fat, dimpled arms, and a red shawl draped over one shoulder, came into the space left vacant for her, and assumed an unnatural pose.
She only felt herself again completely borne away into this strange senseless world--so remote from her old world--a world in which it was impossible to know what was good or bad, reasonable or senseless.
After giving several recitations, Mademoiselle George left, and Countess Bezukhova asked her visitors into the ballroom.
He took it into his head to begin shouting, but I am not one to be shouted down.
Clutching her breast to keep herself from choking, Sonya, pale and trembling with fear and agitation, sat down in an armchair and burst into tears.
I shall tell! cried Sonya, bursting into tears.
Sonya burst into sobs and ran from the room.
You'll only get yourself into a mess!
"Go to the devil!" cried Anatole and, clutching his hair, left the room, but returned at once and dropped into an armchair in front of Dolokhov with his feet turned under him.
Anatole went into the back room.
Anatole rose and went into the dining room.
Joseph, his valet, handed him his sabretache and saber, and they all went out into the vestibule.
"Come into the courtyard or you'll be seen; she'll come out directly," said she.
Anatole followed the maid into the courtyard, turned the corner, and ran up into the porch.
Marya Dmitrievna, having found Sonya weeping in the corridor, made her confess everything, and intercepting the note to Natasha she read it and went into Natasha's room with it in her hand.
I shall die! she muttered, wrenching herself from Marya Dmitrievna's hands with a vicious effort and sinking down again into her former position.
And she burst into sobs with the despairing vehemence with which people bewail disasters they feel they have themselves occasioned.
Anatole glanced at him and immediately thrust his hand into his pocket and drew out his pocketbook.
Pierre went into the study.
"No, she has dressed and gone into the drawing room," said Sonya.
Pierre too when she had gone almost ran into the anteroom, restraining tears of tenderness and joy that choked him, and without finding the sleeves of his fur cloak threw it on and got into his sleigh.
It seemed to Pierre that this comet fully responded to what was passing in his own softened and uplifted soul, now blossoming into a new life.
The actions of Napoleon and Alexander, on whose words the event seemed to hang, were as little voluntary as the actions of any soldier who was drawn into the campaign by lot or by conscription.
Now we'll go into action.
He gave an angry thrust to his horse, which had grown restive under him, and plunged into the water, heading for the deepest part where the current was swift.
But the Emperor and Balashev passed out into the illuminated garden without noticing Arakcheev who, holding his sword and glancing wrathfully around, followed some twenty paces behind them.
In the figure in which he had to choose two ladies, he whispered to Helene that he meant to choose Countess Potocka who, he thought, had gone out onto the veranda, and glided over the parquet to the door opening into the garden, where, seeing Balashev and the Emperor returning to the veranda, he stood still.
As soon as the King began to speak loud and fast his royal dignity instantly forsook him, and without noticing it he passed into his natural tone of good-natured familiarity.
But instead of that, at the next village the sentinels of Davout's infantry corps detained him as the pickets of the vanguard had done, and an adjutant of the corps commander, who was fetched, conducted him into the village to Marshal Davout.
The Comte de Turenne showed him into a big reception room where many generals, gentlemen-in-waiting, and Polish magnates--several of whom Balashev had seen at the court of the Emperor of Russia--were waiting.
After some minutes, the gentleman-in-waiting who was on duty came into the great reception room and, bowing politely, asked Balashev to follow him.
Balashev went into a small reception room, one door of which led into a study, the very one from which the Russian Emperor had dispatched him on his mission.
He glanced with his large eyes into Balashav's face and immediately looked past him.
Judging by the calmly moderate and amicable tone in which the French Emperor spoke, Balashev was firmly persuaded that he wished for peace and intended to enter into negotiations.
He paused, looked ironically straight into Balashev's eyes, and said in a quiet voice:
The household was divided into two alien and hostile camps, who changed their habits for his sake and only met because he was there.
The boy, curly- headed like his mother and glowing with health, sat on his knee, and Prince Andrew began telling him the story of Bluebeard, but fell into a reverie without finishing the story.
The members of this party were those who had demanded an advance from Vilna into Poland and freedom from all prearranged plans.
The men of that party, remembering Suvorov, said that what one had to do was not to reason, or stick pins into maps, but to fight, beat the enemy, keep him out of Russia, and not let the army get discouraged.
He passed into the next room, and the deep, querulous sounds of his voice were at once heard from there.
Prince Andrew's eyes were still following Pfuel out of the room when Count Bennigsen entered hurriedly, and nodding to Bolkonski, but not pausing, went into the study, giving instructions to his adjutant as he went.
Chernyshev and Prince Andrew went out into the porch, where the Emperor, who looked fatigued, was dismounting.
The Emperor went into the study.
Prince Andrew, taking advantage of the Emperor's permission, accompanied Paulucci, whom he had known in Turkey, into the drawing room where the council was assembled.
Rostov and Ilyin hastened to find a corner where they could change into dry clothes without offending Mary Hendrikhovna's modesty.
As soon as he had left the room all the officers burst into loud laughter and Mary Hendrikhovna blushed till her eyes filled with tears and thereby became still more attractive to them.
When he had gone, taking his wife with him, and had settled down with her in their covered cart, the officers lay down in the tavern, covering themselves with their wet cloaks, but they did not sleep for a long time; now they exchanged remarks, recalling the doctor's uneasiness and his wife's delight, now they ran out into the porch and reported what was taking place in the covered trap.
Formerly, when going into action, Rostov had felt afraid; now he had not the least feeling of fear.
He had grown accustomed when going into action to think about anything but what would seem most likely to interest him--the impending danger.
The infantry in front of them parted into platoons to allow the cavalry to pass.
Some hussars who galloped up disengaged his foot and helped him into the saddle.
After the affair at Ostrovna he was brought into notice, received command of an hussar battalion, and when a brave officer was needed he was chosen.
Natasha's illness was so serious that, fortunately for her and for her parents, the consideration of all that had caused the illness, her conduct and the breaking off of her engagement, receded into the background.
But when he had gone into another room, to which the countess hurriedly followed him, he assumed a grave air and thoughtfully shaking his head said that though there was danger, he had hopes of the effect of this last medicine and one must wait and see, that the malady was chiefly mental, but...
Natasha's grief began to be overlaid by the impressions of daily life, it ceased to press so painfully on her heart, it gradually faded into the past, and she began to recover physically.
Pierre still went into society, drank as much and led the same idle and dissipated life, because besides the hours he spent at the Rostovs' there were other hours he had to spend somehow, and the habits and acquaintances he had made in Moscow formed a current that bore him along irresistibly.
Your mother's milk has hardly dried on your lips and you want to go into the army!
Why are you upset? asked Natasha, and she looked challengingly into Pierre's eyes.
"Anybody can shove," said the footman, and also began working his elbows to such effect that he pushed Petya into a very filthy corner of the gateway.
When the carriages had all passed in, the crowd, carrying Petya with it, streamed forward into the Kremlin Square which was already full of people.
Pierre pushed his way into the middle of the group, listened, and convinced himself that the man was indeed a liberal, but of views quite different from his own.
He hardened his heart against the senator who was introducing this set and narrow attitude into the deliberations of the nobility.
Many voices shouted and talked at the same time, so that Count Rostov had not time to signify his approval of them all, and the group increased, dispersed, re-formed, and then moved with a hum of talk into the largest hall and to the big table.
At the very beginning of the war our armies were divided, and our sole aim was to unite them, though uniting the armies was no advantage if we meant to retire and lure the enemy into the depths of the country.
So thought the Emperor, and the Russian commanders and people were still more provoked at the thought that our forces were retreating into the depths of the country.
Napoleon having cut our armies apart advanced far into the country and missed several chances of forcing an engagement.
Lubomirski, Bronnitski, Wlocki, and the others of that group stirred up so much trouble that Barclay, under pretext of sending papers to the Emperor, dispatched these Polish adjutants general to Petersburg and plunged into an open struggle with Bennigsen and the Tsarevich.
His old sister-in-law popped in a small bundle, and one of the coachmen helped him into the vehicle.
"To see the Governor by his excellency's order," answered Alpatych, lifting his head and proudly thrusting his hand into the bosom of his coat as he always did when he mentioned the prince....
But the Governor did not finish: a dusty perspiring officer ran into the room and began to say something in French.
"You brute, you murderer!" screamed a thin, pale woman who, with a baby in her arms and her kerchief torn from her head, burst through the door at that moment and down the steps into the yard.
Ferapontov came out after her, but on seeing Alpatych adjusted his waistcoat, smoothed his hair, yawned, and followed Alpatych into the opposite room.
They say the other day Matthew Ivanych Platov drove them into the river Marina and drowned some eighteen thousand in one day.
Suddenly the strange sound of a far-off whistling and thud was heard, followed by a boom of cannon blending into a dull roar that set the windows rattling.
He went out into the street: two men were running past toward the bridge.
Alpatych was getting into his trap.
The mistress rocked and hushed her baby and when anyone came into the cellar asked in a pathetic whisper what had become of her husband who had remained in the street.
Several of them ran into Ferapontov's yard before Alpatych's eyes.
I'll teach you to run into the yards!
On seeing the soldiers he was about to shout at them, but suddenly stopped and, clutching at his hair, burst into sobs and laughter:
Don't let those devils get it! he cried, taking some bags of flour himself and throwing them into the street.
We're done for!... and Ferapontov ran into the yard.
Seeing that his trap would not be able to move on for some time, Alpatych got down and turned into the side street to look at the fire.
Soldiers were continually rushing backwards and forwards near it, and he saw two of them and a man in a frieze coat dragging burning beams into another yard across the street, while others carried bundles of hay.
"Your... your excellency," stammered Alpatych and broke into sobs.
A little serf boy, seeing Prince Andrew, ran into the house.
Alpatych clung to Prince Andrew's leg and burst into sobs.
He longed to get into that water, however dirty it might be, and he glanced round at the pool from whence came sounds of shrieks and laughter.
All this naked white human flesh, laughing and shrieking, floundered about in that dirty pool like carp stuffed into a watering can, and the suggestion of merriment in that floundering mass rendered it specially pathetic.
One fair-haired young soldier of the third company, whom Prince Andrew knew and who had a strap round the calf of one leg, crossed himself, stepped back to get a good run, and plunged into the water; another, a dark noncommissioned officer who was always shaggy, stood up to his waist in the water joyfully wriggling his muscular figure and snorted with satisfaction as he poured the water over his head with hands blackened to the wrists.
Princess Mary ran out to the porch, down the flower-bordered path, and into the avenue.
Occasionally amid these memories temptations of the devil would surge into her imagination: thoughts of how things would be after his death, and how her new, liberated life would be ordered.
In front of it stood carriages without horses and things were being packed into the vehicles.
She ran out sobbing into the garden and as far as the pond, along the avenues of young lime trees Prince Andrew had planted.
And hiding her face in her hands, Princess Mary sank into the arms of the doctor, who held her up.
Just as horses shy and snort and gather about a dead horse, so the inmates of the house and strangers crowded into the drawing room round the coffin--the Marshal, the village Elder, peasant women--and all with fixed and frightened eyes, crossing themselves, bowed and kissed the old prince's cold and stiffened hand.
"I can see through you and three yards into the ground under you," he continued, gazing at the floor in front of Dron.
What is it you have got into your heads, eh?...
In the village, outside the drink shop, another meeting was being held, which decided that the horses should be driven out into the woods and the carts should not be provided.
The sun had reached the other side of the house, and its slanting rays shone into the open window, lighting up the room and part of the morocco cushion at which Princess Mary was looking.
He is gone and no one will hinder you, she said to herself, and sinking into a chair she let her head fall on the window sill.
She said her only consolation was the fact that the princess allowed her to share her sorrow, that all the old misunderstandings should sink into nothing but this great grief; that she felt herself blameless in regard to everyone, and that he, from above, saw her affection and gratitude.
Because, you will agree, chere Marie, to fall into the hands of the soldiers or of riotous peasants would be terrible.
She went into Prince Andrew's study, trying to enter completely into his ideas, and considered her position.
I'll go out to them, said Princess Mary, and in spite of the nurse's and Dunyasha's protests she went out into the porch; Dron, Dunyasha, the nurse, and Michael Ivanovich following her.
Follow her into slavery!
Pull down your houses and go into bondage!
Rostov and Ilyin gave rein to their horses for a last race along the incline before reaching Bogucharovo, and Rostov, outstripping Ilyin, was the first to gallop into the village street.
"May I make bold to trouble your honor?" said he respectfully, but with a shade of contempt for the youthfulness of this officer and with a hand thrust into his bosom.
As soon as Rostov, followed by Ilyin, Lavrushka, and Alpatych, came up to the crowd, Karp, thrusting his fingers into his belt and smiling a little, walked to the front.
What did I say? said Alpatych, coming into his own again.
I'm Lieutenant Colonel Denisov, better known as 'Vaska,' said Denisov, pressing Prince Andrew's hand and looking into his face with a particularly kindly attention.
His adjutants galloped into the yard before him.
Well, good-by, General, he added, and rode into the yard past Prince Andrew and Denisov.
"Whew... whew... whew!" he whistled just audibly as he rode into the yard.
He drew his left foot out of the stirrup and, lurching with his whole body and puckering his face with the effort, raised it with difficulty onto the saddle, leaned on his knee, groaned, and slipped down into the arms of the Cossacks and adjutants who stood ready to assist him.
Into the stove... into the fire with it!
Into the stove... into the fire with it!
I tell you once for all, my dear fellow," said he, "into the fire with all such things!
The priest's wife smiled, and with dimples in her rosy cheeks followed him into the room.
* "Think it over; get into the barque, and take care not to make it a barque of Charon."
Please impress upon Leppich to be very careful where he descends for the first time, that he may not make a mistake and fall into the enemy's hands.
Pierre pushed forward as fast as he could, and the farther he left Moscow behind and the deeper he plunged into that sea of troops the more was he overcome by restless agitation and a new and joyful feeling he had not experienced before.
So the histories say, and it is all quite wrong, as anyone who cares to look into the matter can easily convince himself.
The sunshine from behind the hill did not penetrate into the cutting and there it was cold and damp, but above Pierre's head was the bright August sunshine and the bells sounded merrily.
Beyond Valuevo the road disappeared into a yellowing forest on the horizon.
The officer pointed with his hand to the smoke visible on the left beyond the river, and the same stern and serious expression that Pierre had noticed on many of the faces he had met came into his face.
With a long overcoat on his exceedingly stout, round-shouldered body, with uncovered white head and puffy face showing the white ball of the eye he had lost, Kutuzov walked with plunging, swaying gait into the crowd and stopped behind the priest.
They rode across that bridge into the village of Borodino and thence turned to the left, passing an enormous number of troops and guns, and came to a high knoll where militiamen were digging.
* "Oh, yes, the only aim is to weaken the enemy, so of course one cannot take into account the loss of private individuals."
Then all these Westphalians and Hessians whom Napoleon is leading would not follow him into Russia, and we should not go to fight in Austria and Prussia without knowing why.
Prince Andrew smiled now the same happy smile as then when he had looked into her eyes.
He was so much interested in that task that he was unable to sleep, and in spite of his cold which had grown worse from the dampness of the evening, he went into the large division of the tent at three o'clock in the morning, loudly blowing his nose.
The adjutant in attendance came into the tent.
"Why ride into the middle of the battalion?" one of them shouted at him.
The men soon accepted Pierre into their family, adopted him, gave him a nickname ("our gentleman"), and made kindly fun of him among themselves.
To the infantry! added another with loud laughter, seeing the shell fly past and fall into the ranks of the supports.
A cannon ball struck the very end of the earth work by which he was standing, crumbling down the earth; a black ball flashed before his eyes and at the same instant plumped into something.
The sun had risen brightly and its slanting rays struck straight into Napoleon's face as, shading his eyes with his hand, he looked at the fleches.
Napoleon's generals--Davout, Ney, and Murat, who were near that region of fire and sometimes even entered it--repeatedly led into it huge masses of well-ordered troops.
Friant's division disappeared as the others had done into the smoke of the battlefield.
Napoleon stopped his horse and again fell into the reverie from which Berthier had aroused him.
One of the generals rode up to Napoleon and ventured to offer to lead the Old Guard into action.
Toward two o'clock the regiment, having already lost more than two hundred men, was moved forward into a trampled oatfield in the gap between Semenovsk and the Knoll Battery, where thousands of men perished that day and on which an intense, concentrated fire from several hundred enemy guns was directed between one and two o'clock.
When men were killed or wounded, when rows of stretchers went past, when some troops retreated, and when great masses of the enemy came into view through the smoke, no one paid any attention to these things.
Get into step, Fedor...
"Now that's right!" said the one behind joyfully, when he had got into step.
Prince Andrew opened his eyes and looked up at the speaker from the stretcher into which his head had sunk deep and again his eyelids drooped.
"All right, immediately," he replied to a dresser who pointed Prince Andrew out to him, and he told them to carry him into the tent.
All he saw about him merged into a general impression of naked, bleeding human bodies that seemed to fill the whole of the low tent, as a few weeks previously, on that hot August day, such bodies had filled the dirty pond beside the Smolensk road.
Four soldiers were holding him, and a spectacled doctor was cutting into his muscular brown back.
And he fell back into that artificial realm of imaginary greatness, and again--as a horse walking a treadmill thinks it is doing something for itself--he submissively fulfilled the cruel, sad, gloomy, and inhuman role predestined for him.
The forces of a dozen European nations burst into Russia.
This brilliant company separated into several groups who all discussed the advantages and disadvantages of the position, the state of the army, the plans suggested, the situation of Moscow, and military questions generally.
The men, women, and children of the large peasant family crowded into the back room across the passage.
Malasha looked down from the oven with shy delight at the faces, uniforms, and decorations of the generals, who one after another came into the room and sat down on the broad benches in the corner under the icons.
In the foremost place, immediately under the icons, sat Barclay de Tolly, his high forehead merging into his bald crown.
The enchanting, middle-aged Frenchman laid his hands on her head and, as she herself afterward described it, she felt something like a fresh breeze wafted into her soul.
Pierre went out into the yard and, covering himself up head and all, lay down in his carriage.
The sun shone straight into Pierre's face.
Oh, by the by!" he shouted through the doorway after Pierre, "is it true that the countess has fallen into the clutches of the holy fathers of the Society of Jesus?"
The Rostovs remained in Moscow till the first of September, that is, till the eve of the enemy's entry into the city.
Natasha, throwing a clean pocket handkerchief over her hair and holding an end of it in each hand, went out into the street.
The cart in which the officer lay was turned into the Rostovs' yard, and dozens of carts with wounded men began at the invitation of the townsfolk to turn into the yards and to draw up at the entrances of the houses in Povarskaya Street.
She and Mavra Kuzminichna tried to get as many of the wounded as possible into their yard.
For one day we can move into the drawing room.
There now, young lady, you do take things into your head!
Even if we put them into the wing, the men's room, or the nurse's room, we must ask permission.
Natasha ran into the house and went on tiptoe through the half-open door into the sitting room, where there was a smell of vinegar and Hoffman's drops.
"Oh, what sleep-?" said the countess, waking up just as she was dropping into a doze.
"Papa, is it all right--I've invited some of the wounded into the house?" said Natasha.
"Sonya, wait a bit--we'll pack everything into these," said Natasha.
She packed, repacked, pressed, made the butler's assistant and Petya--whom she had drawn into the business of packing--press on the lid, and made desperate efforts herself.
That night another wounded man was driven down the Povarskaya, and Mavra Kuzminichna, who was standing at the gate, had him brought into the Rostovs' yard.
The old servant returned to the caleche, looked into it, shook his head disconsolately, told the driver to turn into the yard, and stopped beside Mavra Kuzminichna.
She invited them to take the wounded man into the house.
Count, be so good as to allow me... for God's sake, to get into some corner of one of your carts!
"Please step into the gallery, your excellency," said the major-domo.
The count went into the house with him, repeating his order not to refuse the wounded who asked for a lift.
"Papa, what are you doing that for?" asked Natasha, who had followed him into her mother's room.
From the anteroom Berg ran with smooth though impatient steps into the drawing room, where he embraced the count, kissed the hands of Natasha and Sonya, and hastened to inquire after "Mamma's" health.
The count nodded affirmatively, and Natasha, at the rapid pace at which she used to run when playing at tag, ran through the ballroom to the anteroom and downstairs into the yard.
The news that carts were to be had spread to the neighboring houses, from which wounded men began to come into the Rostovs' yard.
What's the matter? asked Natasha, as with animated face she ran into the room.
And Dunyasha, with clenched teeth, without replying but with an aggrieved look on her face, hastily got into the coach to rearrange the seat.
He went down that staircase and out into the yard.
Will you step into the study?
Pierre went into that gloomy study which he had entered with such trepidation in his benefactor's lifetime.
He sat down at the dusty writing table, and, having laid the manuscripts before him, opened them out, closed them, finally pushed them away, and resting his head on his hand sank into meditation.
Gerasim looked cautiously into the study several times and saw Pierre always sitting in the same attitude.
A single report of a signaling gun followed, and the troops, who were already spread out on different sides of Moscow, moved into the city through Tver, Kaluga, and Dorogomilov gates.
Formerly only bees laden with honey flew into the hive, and they flew out empty; now they fly out laden.
While the troops, dividing into two parts when passing around the Kremlin, were thronging the Moskva and the Stone bridges, a great many soldiers, taking advantage of the stoppage and congestion, turned back from the bridges and slipped stealthily and silently past the church of Vasili the Beatified and under the Borovitski gate, back up the hill to the Red Square where some instinct told them they could easily take things not belonging to them.
Where?... he shouted to three infantrymen without muskets who, holding up the skirts of their overcoats, were slipping past him into the Bazaar passage.
The officer in the scarf dismounted, called up a drummer, and went with him into the arcade.
The officer pounced on the soldiers who were in the shops, but at that moment fearful screams reached them from the huge crowd on the Moskva bridge and the officer ran out into the square.
He'll explain... voices in the rear of the crowd were suddenly heard saying, and the general attention turned to the police superintendent's trap which drove into the square attended by two mounted dragoons.
Why were thousands of inhabitants deceived into believing that Moscow would not be given up--and thereby ruined?
And let the lunatics out into the town.
And the count stepped as briskly back into the room and slammed the door behind him.
Recent as that mental picture was, Rostopchin already felt that it had cut deep into his heart and drawn blood.
Out of the windows of the Senate House the soldiers threw chairs into the Square for fuel and kindled fires there.
But it remained an army only until its soldiers had dispersed into their different lodgings.
As soon as the men of the various regiments began to disperse among the wealthy and deserted houses, the army was lost forever and there came into being something nondescript, neither citizens nor soldiers but what are known as marauders.
No residents were left in Moscow, and the soldiers--like water percolating through sand--spread irresistibly through the city in all directions from the Kremlin into which they had first marched.
On seeing Pierre he grew confused at first, but noticing embarrassment on Pierre's face immediately grew bold and, staggering on his thin legs, advanced into the middle of the room.
He paused and then suddenly seeing the pistol on the table seized it with unexpected rapidity and ran out into the corridor.
Pierre, coming out into the corridor, looked with pity and repulsion at the half-crazy old man.
Suddenly a fresh sound, a piercing feminine scream, reverberated from the porch and the cook came running into the vestibule.
Lead that man away! said he quickly and energetically, and taking the arm of Pierre whom he had promoted to be a Frenchman for saving his life, he went with him into the room.
The soldiers in the yard, hearing the shot, came into the passage asking what had happened, and expressed their readiness to punish the culprits, but the officer sternly checked them.
When the French officer went into the room with Pierre the latter again thought it his duty to assure him that he was not French and wished to go away, but the officer would not hear of it.
The German who knew little French, answered the two first questions by giving the names of his regiment and of his commanding officer, but in reply to the third question which he did not understand said, introducing broken French into his own German, that he was the quartermaster of the regiment and his commander had ordered him to occupy all the houses one after another.
The captain went out into the porch and gave some orders in a loud voice.
Pierre did not answer, but looked cordially into the Frenchman's eyes whose expression of sympathy was pleasing to him.
When it was late at night they went out together into the street.
The Rostovs' servants and coachmen and the orderlies of the wounded officers, after attending to their masters, had supper, fed the horses, and came out into the porches.
She moved simply to be farther away from the wounded man.
With her bare feet she touched a sleeping man, stepped over him, and opened the door into the part of the hut where Prince Andrew lay.
The pain caused by his removal into the hut had made him groan aloud and again lose consciousness.
The doctor went into the passage to wash his hands.
The first time Prince Andrew understood where he was and what was the matter with him and remembered being wounded and how was when he asked to be carried into the hut after his caleche had stopped at Mytishchi.
Just once, looking into those eyes to say...
And his attention was suddenly carried into another world, a world of reality and delirium in which something particular was happening.
Prince Andrew wished to return to that former world of pure thought, but he could not, and delirium drew him back into its domain.
Prince Andrew collected all his strength in an effort to recover his senses, he moved a little, and suddenly there was a ringing in his ears, a dimness in his eyes, and like a man plunged into water he lost consciousness.
"I love you more, better than before," said Prince Andrew, lifting her face with his hand so as to look into her eyes.
No, probably he won't make his entry into Moscow before noon.
Having tied a girdle over his coat and pulled his cap low on his head, Pierre went down the corridor, trying to avoid making a noise or meeting the captain, and passed out into the street.
She ran across the street, turned down a side street to the left, and, passing three houses, turned into a yard on the right.
He ran round to the other side of the lodge and was about to dash into that part of it which was still standing, when just above his head he heard several voices shouting and then a cracking sound and the ring of something heavy falling close beside him.
And a minute or two later the Frenchman, a black-eyed fellow with a spot on his cheek, in shirt sleeves, really did jump out of a window on the ground floor, and clapping Pierre on the shoulder ran with him into the garden.
As soon as Nicholas entered in his hussar uniform, diffusing around him a fragrance of perfume and wine, and had uttered the words "better late than never" and heard them repeated several times by others, people clustered around him; all eyes turned on him, and he felt at once that he had entered into his proper position in the province--that of a universal favorite: a very pleasant position, and intoxicatingly so after his long privations.
Yes, prayer can move mountains, but one must have faith and not pray as Natasha and I used to as children, that the snow might turn into sugar-- and then run out into the yard to see whether it had done so.
Sonya burst into hysterical tears and replied through her sobs that she would do anything and was prepared for anything, but gave no actual promise and could not bring herself to decide to do what was demanded of her.
As soon as the prior withdrew, Natasha took her friend by the hand and went with her into the unoccupied room.
He cannot... because... because... of and Natasha burst into tears.
Natasha opened it cautiously and glanced into the room, Sonya standing beside her at the half-open door.
She had in fact seen nothing then but had mentioned the first thing that came into her head, but what she had invented then seemed to her now as real as any other recollection.
They were taken to the entrance and led into the house one by one.
He was conducted through a glass gallery, an anteroom, and a hall, which were familiar to him, into a long low study at the door of which stood an adjutant.
The soldiers dragged it awkwardly from the post and began pushing it into the pit.
Pierre glanced into the pit and saw that the factory lad was lying with his knees close up to his head and one shoulder higher than the other.
They took him to the upper end of the field, where there were some sheds built of charred planks, beams, and battens, and led him into one of them.
And he opened his eyes again and stared vacantly into the darkness around him.
He took a potato, drew out his clasp knife, cut the potato into two equal halves on the palm of his hand, sprinkled some salt on it from the rag, and handed it to Pierre.
The countess took Princess Mary into the drawing room, where Sonya was talking to Mademoiselle Bourienne.
There was only one expression on her agitated face when she ran into the drawing room--that of love--boundless love for him, for her, and for all that was near to the man she loved; and of pity, suffering for others, and passionate desire to give herself entirely to helping them.
"Come, come to him, Mary," said Natasha, leading her into the other room.
Natasha was gazing at her, but seemed afraid and in doubt whether to say all she knew or not; she seemed to feel that before those luminous eyes which penetrated into the very depths of her heart, it was impossible not to tell the whole truth which she saw.
When Natasha opened Prince Andrew's door with a familiar movement and let Princess Mary pass into the room before her, the princess felt the sobs in her throat.
She was sure he would speak soft, tender words to her such as her father had uttered before his death, and that she would not be able to bear it and would burst into sobs in his presence.
Had he screamed in agony, that scream would not have struck such horror into Princess Mary's heart as the tone of his voice.
When little Nicholas was brought into Prince Andrew's room he looked at his father with frightened eyes, but did not cry, because no one else was crying.
Following the wounded hare he made his way far into the forest and came upon the left flank of Murat's army, encamped there without any precautions.
The Cossack laughingly told his comrades how he had almost fallen into the hands of the French.
He dismounted and went up into the porch of a large country house which had remained intact between the Russian and French forces.
It was done on purpose to get Konovnitsyn into trouble.
Trembling and panting the old man fell into that state of fury in which he sometimes used to roll on the ground, and he fell upon Eykhen, threatening him with his hands, shouting and loading him with gross abuse.
They disappeared into the forest, and Count Orlov-Denisov, having seen Grekov off, returned, shivering from the freshness of the early dawn and excited by what he had undertaken on his own responsibility, and began looking at the enemy camp, now just visible in the deceptive light of dawn and the dying campfires.
The French, not being farther pursued, began to recover themselves: they formed into detachments and began firing.
Coming out onto a field under the enemy's fire, this brave general went straight ahead, leading his men under fire, without considering in his agitation whether going into action now, with a single division, would be of any use or no.
The battle of Tarutino obviously did not attain the aim Toll had in view--to lead the troops into action in the order prescribed by the dispositions; nor that which Count Orlov-Denisov may have had in view-- to take Murat prisoner; nor the result of immediately destroying the whole corps, which Bennigsen and others may have had in view; nor the aim of the officer who wished to go into action to distinguish himself; nor that of the Cossack who wanted more booty than he got, and so on.
With regard to military matters, Napoleon immediately on his entry into Moscow gave General Sabastiani strict orders to observe the movements of the Russian army, sent army corps out along the different roads, and charged Murat to find Kutuzov.
This little dog lived in their shed, sleeping beside Karataev at night; it sometimes made excursions into the town but always returned again.
Pierre first looked down the field across which vehicles and horsemen were passing that morning, then into the distance across the river, then at the dog who was pretending to be in earnest about biting him, and then at his bare feet which he placed with pleasure in various positions, moving his dirty thick big toes.
A week before the French had had boot leather and linen issued to them, which they had given out to the prisoners to make up into boots and shirts for them.
He was evidently afraid the prisoners looking on would laugh at him, and thrust his head into the shirt hurriedly.
"But they'll make grand leg bands, dear friend," he said, and went back into the shed.
When that door was opened and the prisoners, crowding against one another like a flock of sheep, squeezed into the exit, Pierre pushed his way forward and approached that very captain who as the corporal had assured him was ready to do anything for him.
To the right, where the Kaluga road turns near Neskuchny, endless rows of troops and carts stretched away into the distance.
Davout's troops, in whose charge were the prisoners, were crossing the Crimean bridge and some were already debouching into the Kaluga road.
A carriage that followed the escort ran into one of the carts and knocked a hole in it with its pole.
Suddenly he burst out into a fit of his broad, good-natured laughter, so loud that men from various sides turned with surprise to see what this strange and evidently solitary laughter could mean.
And they caught all that and put it into a shed boarded up with planks!
It is natural for a man who does not understand the workings of a machine to imagine that a shaving that has fallen into it by chance and is interfering with its action and tossing about in it is its most important part.
So he lay now on his bed, supporting his large, heavy, scarred head on his plump hand, with his one eye open, meditating and peering into the darkness.
And by bringing variously selected historic units (battles, campaigns, periods of war) into such equations, a series of numbers could be obtained in which certain laws should exist and might be discovered.
The French, retreating in 1812--though according to tactics they should have separated into detachments to defend themselves--congregated into a mass because the spirit of the army had so fallen that only the mass held the army together.
The so-called partisan war began with the entry of the French into Smolensk.
That morning, Cossacks of Denisov's party had seized and carried off into the forest two wagons loaded with cavalry saddles, which had stuck in the mud not far from Mikulino where the forest ran close to the road.
The boy, thrusting his cold hands into his pockets and lifting his eyebrows, looked at Denisov in affright, but in spite of an evident desire to say all he knew gave confused answers, merely assenting to everything Denisov asked him.
As they approached the watchhouse Denisov stopped, peering into the forest.
When he espied Denisov he hastily threw something into the bushes, removed his sodden hat by its floppy brim, and approached his commander.
I took him into the forest.
Tikhon scratched his back with one hand and his head with the other, then suddenly his whole face expanded into a beaming, foolish grin, disclosing a gap where he had lost a tooth (that was why he was called Shcherbaty--the gap-toothed).
Denisov smiled, and Petya burst into a peal of merry laughter in which Tikhon himself joined.
'Shout loud at them,' he says, 'and you'll take them all,' Tikhon concluded, looking cheerfully and resolutely into Denisov's eyes.
Tikhon followed behind and Petya heard the Cossacks laughing with him and at him, about some pair of boots he had thrown into the bushes.
In the room three officers of Denisov's band were converting a door into a tabletop.
Only do let me into the very... into the chief...
Into the vewy chief...
Would you like some?... and Petya ran out into the passage to his Cossack and brought back some bags which contained about five pounds of raisins.
Having ridden up the road, on both sides of which French talk could be heard around the campfires, Dolokhov turned into the courtyard of the landowner's house.
When they had descended to the bridge Petya and Dolokhov rode past the sentinel, who without saying a word paced morosely up and down it, then they descended into the hollow where the Cossacks awaited them.
Dolokhov kissed him, laughed, turned his horse, and vanished into the darkness.
Petya came out, peered into the darkness, and went up to the wagons.
We've been into the French camp.
Each instrument--now resembling a violin and now a horn, but better and clearer than violin or horn--played its own part, and before it had finished the melody merged with another instrument that began almost the same air, and then with a third and a fourth; and they all blended into one and again became separate and again blended, now into solemn church music, now into something dazzlingly brilliant and triumphant.
He closed his eyes, and, from all sides as if from a distance, sounds fluttered, grew into harmonies, separated, blended, and again all mingled into the same sweet and solemn hymn.
His horse by habit made as if to nip his leg, but Petya leaped quickly into the saddle unconscious of his own weight and, turning to look at the hussars starting in the darkness behind him, rode up to Denisov.
Slipping onto their haunches and sliding, the horses descended with their riders into the ravine.
The Cossacks and Dolokhov galloped after Petya into the gateway of the courtyard.
Karataev paused, smiling joyously as he gazed into the fire, and he drew the logs together.
Its whole surface consisted of drops closely pressed together, and all these drops moved and changed places, sometimes several of them merging into one, sometimes one dividing into many.
And twisting the ramrod he looked gloomily at Pierre, who turned away and gazed into the darkness.
And without linking up the events of the day or drawing a conclusion from them, Pierre closed his eyes, seeing a vision of the country in summertime mingled with memories of bathing and of the liquid, vibrating globe, and he sank into water so that it closed over his head.
Beyond Vyazma the French army instead of moving in three columns huddled together into one mass, and so went on to the end.
First he rings his bell fearlessly, but when he gets into a tight place he runs away as quietly as he can, and often thinking to escape runs straight into his opponent's arms.
At first while they were still moving along the Kaluga road, Napoleon's armies made their presence known, but later when they reached the Smolensk road they ran holding the clapper of their bell tight--and often thinking they were escaping ran right into the Russians.
And here as in a game of blindman's buff the French ran into our vanguard.
Seeing their enemy unexpectedly the French fell into confusion and stopped short from the sudden fright, but then they resumed their flight, abandoning their comrades who were farther behind.
When he saw Natasha he waved his arms despairingly and burst into convulsively painful sobs that distorted his soft round face.
Go, go, she... is calling... and weeping like a child and quickly shuffling on his feeble legs to a chair, he almost fell into it, covering his face with his hands.
One part of it dispersed and waded knee-deep through the snow into a birch forest to the right of the village, and immediately the sound of axes and swords, the crashing of branches, and merry voices could be heard from there.
Some twenty men of the Sixth Company who were on their way into the village joined the haulers, and the wattle wall, which was about thirty- five feet long and seven feet high, moved forward along the village street, swaying, pressing upon and cutting the shoulders of the gasping men.
He turns into a bird in his hands and flies away.
If he fell into my hands, when I'd caught him I'd bury him in the ground with an aspen stake to fix him down.
They all raised their heads to listen, and out of the forest into the bright firelight stepped two strangely clad human figures clinging to one another.
A Russian officer who had come up to the fire sent to ask his colonel whether he would not take a French officer into his hut to warm him, and when the messenger returned and said that the colonel wished the officer to be brought to him, Ramballe was told to go.
When the bridges broke down, unarmed soldiers, people from Moscow and women with children who were with the French transport, all--carried on by vis inertiae-- pressed forward into boats and into the ice-covered water and did not, surrender.
A courier who galloped to the castle in advance, in a troyka with three foam-flecked horses, shouted "Coming!" and Konovnitsyn rushed into the vestibule to inform Kutuzov, who was waiting in the hall porter's little lodge.
A minute later the old man's large stout figure in full-dress uniform, his chest covered with orders and a scarf drawn round his stomach, waddled out into the porch.
The Emperor greeted the officers and the Semenov guard, and again pressing the old man's hand went with him into the castle.
Kutuzov raised his head and looked for a long while into the eyes of Count Tolstoy, who stood before him holding a silver salver on which lay a small object.
He had equipped himself with a mental telescope and looked into remote space, where petty worldliness hiding itself in misty distance had seemed to him great and infinite merely because it was not clearly seen.
The most cunning man could not have crept into her confidence more successfully, evoking memories of the best times of her youth and showing sympathy with them.
But to his surprise Willarski soon noticed that Pierre had lagged much behind the times, and had sunk, as he expressed it to himself, into apathy and egotism.
The longer the French remained the more these forms of town life perished, until finally all was merged into one confused, lifeless scene of plunder.
Besides the plunderers, very various people, some drawn by curiosity, some by official duties, some by self-interest--house owners, clergy, officials of all kinds, tradesmen, artisans, and peasants--streamed into Moscow as blood flows to the heart.
Please step into the portrait gallery.
Natasha asked, looking attentively into Pierre's eyes.
But Pierre's face quivering with emotion, his questions and his eager restless expression, gradually compelled her to go into details which she feared to recall for her own sake.
Pierre was shown into the large, brightly lit dining room; a few minutes later he heard footsteps and Princess Mary entered with Natasha.
Pierre admitted that it was true, and from that was gradually led by Princess Mary's questions and especially by Natasha's into giving a detailed account of his adventures.
She caught the unfinished word in its flight and took it straight into her open heart, divining the secret meaning of all Pierre's mental travail.
Evidently it has to be so, said he to himself, and hastily undressing he got into bed, happy and agitated but free from hesitation or indecision.
"And this man too," thought Pierre, looking into the face of the Chief of Police.
Pierre was looking into Princess Mary's eyes.
The disfavor into which he falls with the rulers of France turns to his advantage.
His attempts to avoid his predestined path are unsuccessful: he is not received into the Russian service, and the appointment he seeks in Turkey comes to nothing.
He is pushed into a meeting of the legislature.
He pretends to fall into a swoon and says senseless things that should have ruined him.
In 1811 the group of people that had formed in France unites into one group with the peoples of Central Europe.
The flood of nations begins to subside into its normal channels.
Princess Mary gazed intently into his eyes with her own luminous ones as he said this.
For a few seconds they gazed silently into one another's eyes--and what had seemed impossible and remote suddenly became possible, inevitable, and very near.
Nicholas was a plain farmer: he did not like innovations, especially the English ones then coming into vogue.
Nicholas went out into the porch to question him, and immediately after the elder had given a few replies the sound of cries and blows were heard.
The subject which wholly engrossed Natasha's attention was her family: that is, her husband whom she had to keep so that he should belong entirely to her and to the home, and the children whom she had to bear, bring into the world, nurse, and bring up.
If the purpose of food is nourishment and the purpose of marriage is the family, the whole question resolves itself into not eating more than one can digest, and not having more wives or husbands than are needed for the family--that is, one wife or one husband.
Denisov, who had come out of the study into the dancing room with his pipe, now for the first time recognized the old Natasha.
As in every large household, there were at Bald Hills several perfectly distinct worlds which merged into one harmonious whole, though each retained its own peculiarities and made concessions to the others.
The children and their governesses were glad of Pierre's return because no one else drew them into the social life of the household as he did.
When I take little Masha into society?
The countess was sitting with her companion Belova, playing grand- patience as usual, when Pierre and Natasha came into the drawing room with parcels under their arms.
"Come, Anna Makarovna," Pierre's voice was heard saying, "come here into the middle of the room and at the word of command, 'One, two,' and when I say 'three'... You stand here, and you in my arms--well now!
"Come into my study," said Nicholas.
The men went into the study and little Nicholas Bolkonski followed them unnoticed by his uncle and sat down at the writing table in a shady corner by the window.
"Why this," began Pierre, not sitting down but pacing the room, sometimes stopping short, gesticulating, and lisping: "the position in Petersburg is this: the Emperor does not look into anything.
Every word of Pierre's burned into his heart, and with a nervous movement of his fingers he unconsciously broke the sealing wax and quill pens his hands came upon on his uncle's table.
Nicholas looked into the radiant eyes that were gazing at him, and continued to turn over the pages and read.
But they insisted on their own view: love of one's neighbor and Christianity--and all this in the presence of young Nicholas, who had gone into my study and broke all my things.
It is as if she saw straight into their souls.
To seize and put into words, to describe directly the life of humanity or even of a single nation, appears impossible.
And Napoleon, shedding tears before his Old Guards, renounced the throne and went into exile.
The historian evidently decomposes Alexander's power into the components: Talleyrand, Chateaubriand, and the rest--but the sum of the components, that is, the interactions of Chateaubriand, Talleyrand, Madame de Stael, and the others, evidently does not equal the resultant, namely the phenomenon of millions of Frenchmen submitting to the Bourbons.
Today he ordered such and such papers to be written to Vienna, to Berlin, and to Petersburg; tomorrow such and such decrees and orders to the army, the fleet, the commissariat, and so on and so on--millions of commands, which formed a whole series corresponding to a series of events which brought the French armies into Russia.
Apart from that, the chief source of our error in this matter is due to the fact that in the historical accounts a whole series of innumerable, diverse, and petty events, such for instance as all those which led the French armies to Russia, is generalized into one event in accord with the result produced by that series of events.
Amid a long series of unexecuted orders of Napoleon's one series, for the campaign of 1812, was carried out--not because those orders differed in any way from the other, unexecuted orders but because they coincided with the course of events that led the French army into Russia; just as in stencil work this or that figure comes out not because the color was laid on from this side or in that way, but because it was laid on from all sides over the figure cut in the stencil.
Only by watching closely moment by moment the movement of that flow and comparing it with the movement of the ship do we convince ourselves that every bit of it is occasioned by the forward movement of the ship, and that we were led into error by the fact that we ourselves were imperceptibly moving.
Slowly carrying the full cups into the living room, she handed one to Alex.
Without waiting for her to reply, he strode away, pausing only long enough to shrug into his denim jacket.
She followed him out the door and watched as he hopped into the truck and started the engine.
Carmen shrugged again, plunging her hands into the warm dishwater.
And so, if she couldn't have it in her head, she'd put it into his.
A slow smile spread over his mouth and spilled into his eyes.
She slipped eagerly into his arms and their lips met hungrily.
Alex tossed her into the air.
She gazed up into his smooth features.
Turning toward him, she melted into his warm embrace.
He pulled her into his arms.
Emerging from the bathroom an hour later half asleep, she put the new nightgown on and climbed into bed.
She helped Carmen into the new dress.
Slipping her hand through his extended elbow, she let him lead her into the center of the room.
Taking her hand in his, he swept her gracefully into dance.
As he swung her around, he spoke into her ear.
"As for my part," His eyes were like soft chocolate pools as he gazed into hers.
He looked to be about her age and his blond hair was neatly combed into a fashionable style.
She sighed, leaning back and gazing into his eyes.
Changing into her night gown, she decided to sleep on the love seat.
She climbed into the buggy and he followed her.
Then he got into the buggy again and took the reins, and the horse at once backed away from the tree, turned slowly around, and began to trot down the sandy road which was just visible in the dim light.
With a wild neigh of terror the animal fell bodily into the pit, drawing the buggy and its occupants after him.
The sudden rush into space confused them so that they could not think.
This is a nice scrape you've got me into, isn't it?
"Now, Princess," exclaimed the Wizard, "those of your advisors who wished to throw us into the Garden of Clinging Vines must step within this circle of light.
A dozen of them smashed together and tumbled to the ground, and seeing his success Jim kicked again and again, charging into the vegetable crowd, knocking them in all directions and sending the others scattering to escape his iron heels.
Dorothy climbed into the buggy, although Jim had been unharnessed from it and was grazing some distance away.
They had fierce eyes and sharp talons and beaks, and the children hoped none of them would venture into the cavern.
"Yes, indeed; come into my shop, please," and the braided man turned and led the way into a smaller cave, where he evidently lived.
The tops of their heads had no hair, but were carved into a variety of fantastic shapes, some having a row of points or balls around the top, others designs resembling flowers or vegetables, and still others having squares that looked like waffles cut criss-cross on their heads.
But we dropped into this adventure rather unexpectedly.
The Wizard raised one of his revolvers and fired into the throng of his enemies, and the shot resounded like a clap of thunder in that silent place.
The top of its head was carved into a crown and the Wizard's bullet had struck it exactly in the left eye, which was a hard wooden knot.
I met him as he rode into town, and he said that he intended to stop at this hotel.
One night he left the beautiful palace which his father had given to him and went out into the world to do good and to help his fellow men.
Soon they came into the main road where a number of the king's men were waiting.
I determined to go into business at once, and not wait to acquire the usual capital, using such slender means as I had already got.
"From what I have heard," said Pierre, blushing and breaking into the conversation, "almost all the aristocracy has already gone over to Bonaparte's side."
He woke him up, told him to harness, and went into the passage.
The Wizard now put the nine tiny ones back into his pocket and the journey was resumed.
At first the piglet stuck in the neck of the vase and I thought I should get him, after all, but he wriggled himself through and fell down into the deep bottom part--and I suppose he's there yet.
It is expected to continue into the foreseeable future.
We will be completely insulated from the collecting and researching of data so that we can focus entirely on turning data into knowledge.
No; she just dug her claws into the wood and climbed down the sides of this house to the ground.