Flying cars, faster cars, more features in cars, we all get that.
Alex had been hiding more than a father.
She felt that Jim would know more about the Saw-Horse later on.
The teacher answered, "I know of no man who is more honored than yourself."
Think no more about it, he said.
What's more, the Internet can be a fact checker, post office, Rolodex, Yellow Pages, White Pages, game board, garage sale, university, movie theater, jukebox, matchmaking service, travel agent, photo album, bank, support group ...
No one could have been more private than Josh.
He had indicated enough times that he would like to see her in something a little more feminine and fashionable.
He looked even more distinguished than usual in his Spanish garb.
The fact that they were expecting two babies instead of one made it more of a challenge.
"More wonders in the air, my Lord," said he.
"What sort of place is this?" asked the boy, trying to see more clearly through the gloom.
It crossed her mind that Alex might be more than uncomfortable in these surroundings.
We are quite solid inside our bodies, and have no need to eat, any more than does a potato.
Alex sat up and leaned over her, speaking softy in a voice that was little more than a whisper.
A year passed by and then the merchant appeared once more before Al Mansour.
She'd start feeling more comfortable with the room.
Maybe she has someone more suitable in mind.
But a lot more complicated for the other two, maybe.
More like Dulce has been talking to me.
The voice and words belonged to Josh, and yet he had been dead for more than two years.
Do you have more requests?
We'll know more about her recovery tomorrow.
Now it seemed more like a vacation.
I guess the only thing he wanted more than that was a good woman and children.
If it were totally innocent, he would have volunteered more information.
"More important," she continued, "Dulce gave this picture to me.
More than a hundred years ago, two boys were fishing in a small river.
Today, that is vastly more true and widespread.
In cold weather we eat more, in warm less.
The deeper the feeling, the more he attempted to cover it.
What could he do about it but lose more sleep?
No more searching for frozen half-tires in the snow and stomping the water out of them.
"I won't talk about it any more," she said cheerfully.
I should get rid of this and buy something a little more feminine.
Of course, Alex didn't have any gray hair yet, and his lips were fuller - more defined.
More than likely the correction was to prevent her from being embarrassed.
Carmen refrained from looking at Alex or displaying the shock she felt at the introduction of two more siblings he had never mentioned - an entire family.
Carmen glanced around the table, but everyone seemed to be more amused than disturbed... everyone but Señor Medena.
With nothing more to do, she wandered in to watch him shave.
"There's more, isn't there," Carmen asked, watching Felipa's face.
Yeah, I think it's more like a miniature rodeo.
That's more like it.
Maybe he felt more comfortable thinking of it that way.
More than likely Alex didn't want to hear any more about danger, though.
More than likely Alex didn't want to hear any more about danger, though.
If he thought Alex was warming to him, he saw more than she did.
Carmen couldn't make out more than a few words, but one of them was mare.
The man, or boy, couldn't have been more than twenty, yet his steps were as sure as the hands that whirled her around the room.
If he knew who Alex really was, he probably knew more than Alex did.
More important - would he stay?
She squeezed him once more and then released him.
Nothing more was said about the tear session.
Surely there was more to their conversation.
Maybe he loved his children more than she gave him credit for.
Alex seemed to be more comfortable around Morino than he was around his father's family.
Some people just put more effort into distinguishing right from wrong than others.
After a mind boggling search through more investment files, she found his savings account.
There was not an ugly person in all the throng.
Here were more of the vegetable people with thorns, and silently they urged the now frightened creatures down the street.
The sides of the tunnel showed before them like the inside of a long spy-glass, and the floor became more level.
Jim hastened his lagging steps at this assurance of a quick relief from the dark passage.
The second and even more singular fact was the absence of any inhabitant of this splendid place.
They followed the course of a broad stream and passed several more pretty cottages; but of course they saw no one, nor did any one speak to them.
Once a little fish swam too near the surface, and the kitten grabbed it in her mouth and ate it up as quick as a wink; but Dorothy cautioned her to be careful what she ate in this valley of enchantments, and no more fishes were careless enough to swim within reach.
The birds did not sing, nor did the cows moo; yet there was more than ordinary activity everywhere.
They advanced in a great swarm, having been joined by many more of their kind, and they flew straight over Jim's head to where the others were standing.
Several stories of empty rooms rewarded their search, but nothing more; so after a time they came back to the platform again.
However, the Wizard went once more to his satchel--which seemed to contain a surprising variety of odds and ends--and brought out a spool of strong wire, by means of which they managed to fasten four of the wings to Jim's harness, two near his head and two near his tail.
"That is quite a history," said Ozma; "but there is a little more history about the Land of Oz that you do not seem to understand--perhaps for the reason that no one ever told it you.
"Oz can do some good tricks, humbug or no humbug," announced Zeb, who was now feeling more at ease.
So let us cease this talk of skull crushing and converse upon more pleasant subjects.
"But justice prevailed at the last," said Ozma, "for here is my pet, and Eureka is once more free."
He would do many more before the war was over.
The school was more than a mile from their home, and the children trotted along as fast as their short legs could carry them.
"And then will you give me more?" he asked.
And they did not feel themselves safe until they were once more in Boston.
They thought that pictures might take one's mind away from things that were better or more useful.
They thought more of hunting and fighting than of learning.
"You are a brave lad to be joking with robbers" said the man; and he also hurried on to a more promising field.
He lived more than seven hundred years ago in a quaint little town of Italy.
Then he rewarded the gardener with ten more pieces for his honesty.
He has lived more than eighty years.
But it held a beautiful golden tripod that was worth more than a thousand fishes.
They lived more than two thousand years ago, and each one helped to make his country famous.
This approach is even more flawed than the first.
Then, in eighteen more months, it will double again.
I spend less time waiting for Excel to do a recalculation of my formulas today than I did on my 386 in the 1990s, even though my spreadsheets are thousands of times more complex.
More than that in Facebook status updates every day.
Uncounted millions more post questions in forums, and millions of answers are posted in response.
We are creating at a rate exponentially more than our most recent ancestors.
And in our Internet Renaissance, aren't we seeing an explosion of these same things at a spectacularly more massive scale?
Has there ever before been a time when business opportunity was more blind to color, gender, or creed?
Now a billion or more can achieve that dream, and I foresee a time not far off when everyone on the planet can.
Today we have the Internet and all its associated technologies, vastly more versatile, almost infinite in possibility.
Wise machines are dramatically more valuable than machines that just store and retrieve information.
When I go to far-flung places, I often know little of local customs and, through ignorance, I have committed more than one faux pas.
You have to have something more: wisdom.
More and more of your everyday life leaves such an echo.
More and more of your everyday life leaves such an echo.
This would be very useful: No more struggling to remember what you promised the client you would deliver by Friday; you just look up the transcript.
No more trying to retrace your steps to find your car keys; you can see where you left them by checking your GPS system records.
Remember Eric Schmidt's statement that more information is created every two days than in all of human history prior to 2003?
More precisely, we will probably teach machines to teach themselves how to process it for us and surface findings to us.
Or to continue with fictional cases: Why does gasoline made from oil refined at one refinery burn more efficiently?
And every day, their product gets better because it is being fed more data.
After a few minutes more, you decide this really isn't the suit for you.
Ten years later, in 1959, Francois Genuys used an IBM 704 and calculated pi to more than fifteen thousand digits in just four hours.
By 1973 it was calculated to more than a million digits, in 1983 more than ten million digits, in 1987 more than one hundred million digits, in 1989 more than one billion digits, and in 1997 more than fifty billion digits.
In 2009, pi was calculated to more than two trillion digits—in less than thirty hours.
The machine will figure this out as it collects more data and incorporates more variables, and then experiments on people to see which combinations of factors work the best.
More and more data about each customer will be available.
More and more data about each customer will be available.
For each dinner, sixty or more people show up.
(It would have many more, but for now let's just say it includes a million things about you.)
What's more, the algorithms used to make that recommendation are self-learning and will improve their suggestions over time.
Every time you buy a book from Amazon, its employees use your data—information about what you did on their site in the privacy of your own home—to try to sell other people more products.
We know for certain that these feats, and hundreds more like them, are true.
Of all the celebrated accomplishments of science, I think none is more significant than the end of certain diseases, especially the scourge of polio.
One Gallup poll at the time said more people knew about the trial than knew the full name of the president.
It was mentioned by the Hindus more than three thousand years ago (and some suggest they even inoculated against it).
Smallpox affected the rich and the poor and it changed the course of history: It killed Queen Mary II of England in 1694, King Louis I of Spain in 1724, Emperor Peter II of Russia in 1730, and King Louis XV of France in 1774, and changed the succession to the thrones of nations a dozen more times.
Every day, the world has fewer unreachable corners and a more interconnected population.
If the smallpox and polio successes were achieved in a low-tech world, think how much more we can accomplish with vastly improved tools, infrastructure, and communication.
And as population rises, education rises, health rises, and wealth rises, more and more people will be working on these problems.
The number of medical patents issued in 2010 was more than fifty thousand, an all-time record—and it almost certainly will be broken next year, then the next, and again the next.
The number of pharmaceutical patents issued in 2010 was also more than fifty thousand—also an all-time record, and also likely to be broken again and again in the years to come.
We will do much more in the next twenty years than in the preceding one hundred.
After that, more in five years than those twenty.
Then more in one year than those five.
A finding might look like this: "People who eat radishes get better slightly more frequently than people who don't."
Say, for instance, you believe redheads cause more traffic accidents than those with other colors of hair.
The computer reveals that redheads go to the ER more often and break bones more often.
Or are their bones more brittle?
Is it actually that blue-eyed redheads have the same number of accidents as non-redheads, but brown-eyed redheads are even more clumsy, accident prone, and traffic hazards?
Is it because winning the award gives them more confidence?
More and more data will be passively collected.
More and more data will be passively collected.
More people will participate.
Successes will come, encouraging more data collection and more people to participate.
Once the promise of this world comes to be, new ways will be created to measure even more data.
The world will still need ever-smarter specialists doing ever-more complex work.
Better microscopes gave us more information, more ways to unlock the secrets of life.
(With more than thirty thousand genes in your body, you can't expect them all to have cool names.)
In addition to knowing more about what will work, in the future we will also know more about what won't work.
However, new and improved cows are now able to make milk with more of these enzymes.
Now let's look at how the Internet will help end disease in a more traditional, suit-and-tie kind of way.
If you were a scientist in Pasteur's time, you had more resources.
As access becomes cheaper and better, and the whole world has mobile phones, more information can be delivered to people in remote parts of the world.
More data will come online, from satellite images to sensor readings.
And when more and more people have their medical history tracked over time, we will learn even more about how our bodies get sick and how they heal.
When medical records leave the paper folders of the doctor's office and become highly standardized, more analysis can be done.
With each trade he got something he valued more than what he traded away; and presumably all the people he traded with along the way also increased their value with each trade.
That means that as you get more of them, you value each new one less.
It is safe to say that the man with seventeen puppies is creating more happiness by giving one each to sixteen friends than he is forgoing by his loss of puppies.
If more trading can occur, more wealth is created.
It already has increased both substantially and will do so dramatically more in the coming years.
I take things from my attic and my garage and sell them to people who value them more than I do.
With the rapid flow of information about businesses and their products, along with the ease of "checking up" on a vendor, good businesses will get more business and push out the bad ones.
And yet pencils get made, more than a billion of them a year, and they are essentially given away.
These new methods are considered advances if what they produce is worth more than the cost of their parts.
Your widget is now more technologically advanced.
For the foreseeable future, technological advance will drive the world of wealth creation—and it is capable of producing more wealth than everything that has come before it.
If you are able to consume more energy, you can do more work and therefore create more.
I suspect it is both; GNP rises, so we buy more energy, allowing GNP to rise so we can buy more energy.
Even more so than air!
Vastly more energy than we need pours down on this planet in the form of sunlight.
However, locked up in ocean water—just suspended in ocean water—may be the equivalent of eight more such cubes.
And beyond that, billions more ounces of gold may be buried beneath the ocean floor.
As we envision a world where machines do more and more work that people used to do, our minds naturally turn to those who would be displaced by technological advance.
Chad's next job will actually pay more than $10 an hour.
This is one of the few areas in which government taxation actually leads to a more efficient outcome.
Calculating the actual, societal costs of fatty foods, alcohol, cars, pet ownership, mercury thermometers, air conditioning, solar panels, razor blades, jogging shoes, and ten thousand other things, and incorporating those costs in the prices as taxes would lead to a vastly more efficient allocation of resources.
The business looks at this new country and decides to move there because, from their standpoint, they can save costs and be more efficient.
Outsourcing a job to get it done more cheaply or building a machine to do it more cheaply is really the same.
If you take something worth a dollar, spend an hour working on it, and your employer sells it for three dollars, no way in the world can you ever make more than two dollars an hour.
Why would your employer pay you more than the value you are able to add?
Who do you think makes more money: the person who hauls bricks on his back or the person who operates the forklift that moves the bricks?
Who do you think makes more money: the one person who operates the cotton gin we discussed in the last chapter or one of the fifty people he replaced?
If you like having sore muscles at the end of a day or working a job that requires little of your mental capacity so you can contemplate Nietzsche, hey, more power to you.
All people would have tools to make them more productive.
And he will find he is capable of adding far more value than as a set of eyes watching a screen.
We are about to enter a world where robots do more and more of our work for us.
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.
The field of nanotechnology brings even more advances.
But more than that, nanotechnology will create new opportunities that we cannot now see.
I could no more make a paperclip than I could make a Boeing 747.
So, how many thousands of times more will this increase our productivity?
This 4,000MB (or 4GB) of memory cost a bit more than $200.
Imagine what we can do in the future with a thousand times more technological advancement.
Technical breakthroughs in the future will come very rapidly, each one used to increase quality and lower costs in order to compete in an ever more competitive marketplace.
When computers are in your clothes, medicine, eyeglasses, wallet, tires, walls, makeup, jewelry, cookware, tennis shoes, binoculars, and everything else you own, those things will do more than you can imagine—the stuff of science fiction.
Houses will be built by robots using materials not yet invented that are cheaper and more energy efficient.
Labor will fall, material costs will fall, materials will be better, stronger, greener, prettier, lighter, more malleable, and just altogether better.
Your house will not be "smart" insofar as it will not seem alive to you any more than your garage door opener or your web browser does.
This house will be cheaper to build than a house today and worth vastly more to you for all the cool things it does.
I would love to write more and more about this topic, about how things will get better and cheaper in the future.
A poor person with a six-year-old car today has more wealth than a poor person with a six-year-old car did back in 1911, for the simple reason that cars are so much better now.
This dance has happened more times than a weary historian can count.
The United Kingdom famously did this after World War II by raising marginal tax rates on earned income to more than 99 percent and, for some other kinds of income, to more than 100 percent.
That meant for every pound someone made, he owed more than a pound in taxes.
Now the Zimbabwean dollar has undergone four re-denominations (the process of shaving zeros off the currency to make a more manageable new currency.
Other methods of redistribution are even more direct.
Long term, this hurts nations more than expropriation has helped them.
Nations can do this by acquiring enough military might that an attempted land grab would cost their neighbors more than they would get if successful.
Others more broadly interpret the concept of securing life, liberty, and property.
The more it grows, the more heavy-handed it becomes and the more it tramples the very rights it purports to protect.
Then, as a nation grows wealthier, tax rates could fall in terms of percentages because the nation is making so much more money.
Simply put, as income rises, we buy more things, including more government.
In fact, we don't simply buy more government, but we give it a disproportionate amount of our increased income.
It is safe to say that more than a majority of people in rich nations feel this way.
It seems that as national income rises, people choose to create larger governments that offer more entitlements and have more expansive powers.
It seems that we can afford to spend more on government as income rises.
First, more people need them.
After all, that's the government taking more than half of what you make.
After your raise, you made $1 million, paid $600,000 in taxes, and were left with $400,000—twenty times more after-tax income.
Now, let me pose a different question: In the vastly-more-prosperous future, what will "working hard for our money" even mean?
In other words, the average person will make more money, pay a higher percentage as taxes, but still bring home vastly more than before.
Therefore millions of people were willing to pay hundreds of dollars for the software to make them more productive.
As civilization and technology advance, people begin to create more than they consume.
We will know it is coming when we see more and more jobs once filled by humans being filled by machines.
We will know it is coming when we see the prices of more products fall while their quality increases.
When I talk about this future, a future in which machines will do more and more of the work people do now, I always get some variant of the same question: What about the people who lose their jobs to machines and don't have any other skills?
Today we are on the cusp of a substantially more profound shift in work life.
But it is my belief that many more people will choose the first choice.
I base that expectation in part on the fact that today, many of us already live in more comfort than the richest king in the world did two hundred years ago.
People who live their lives following their passions seem more full of life and energy than anyone else.
And we got them all, more or less, by trade and the wealth generated by our work doing some function for which we are trained.
Technology has made us ever more productive.
As machines do ever more things that we used to do, we will have more choices for how we spend our time.
These jobs can be market jobs that have the potential to make a person vastly richer, creating more and more wealth on the planet.
But before the twentieth century, this was not the case and actual famines were much more common.
After touring the United States for more than nine months in the 1830s, Alexis de Tocqueville returned to his native France and penned the two-volume Democracy in America.
Around 1600, the Elizabethan Poor Law came into effect and lasted more than two centuries.
Ultimately, workhouses would provide shelter to more than one hundred thousand paupers.
According to the National Center for Charitable Statistics, more than 1.5 million 501(c) charitable organizations exist in the United States.
It is a shame that de Tocqueville's voluntary associations aren't more prominent around the world today—but in the future, they may be.
At every turn, this becomes more difficult to study.
The subtle interplay of everything involved in nutrition is vastly more complex than our minds are able to handle.
But in the future when we have more and better information, if it turns out that some of these methods are not net gains, we will know that and look elsewhere for solutions.
We already produce more than enough food to feed the planet.
Start with India, which has more chronically hungry people than any other country.
They export US$13 billion more food than they import.
In fact, China produces more food than any other country in the world, triple the amount the United States produces.
More than half the hungry people in the world live in just these three nations—nations that are all net food exporters.
Well, in the developed world, the percent of people needed to farm fell from more than 90 percent to today's 4 percent.
Nations with high percentages of hungry citizens are not universally food exporters, and we will explore this more later.
And he even projects that if farmers followed his plan, it is quite conceivable that in 2050 there will be nine billion people feeding more comfortably than today off a smaller acreage of cropland, releasing large tracts of land for nature reserves.
Just half a century ago, Americans on average spent more than 20 percent of their income on food.
After all, China grows more than three times the amount of food we do in the United States, with less land under cultivation.
Since then, the changes have become more about intellectual property and technique.
In the first ten years of attempting to make better hybrids, Borlaug's group made more than six thousand crossings of wheat.
To further enhance yield, at the same time Borlaug bred wheat strains with short, stubby stalks, which were able to better handle more weight of grain.
How much more should we be able to with the Internet, computers, and other technology?
And yet the future I envision is no more like what we have today than a state-of-the-art Volvo factory is like a nineteenth-century London sweatshop.
There were more people farming in the United States in 1820 than there are today.
Because of its reliability, agriculture will become more like an exact science.
Third, the day will come when the farm of the future will make a healthier, less expensive, more ecologically friendly, fresher, and better-tasting product.
At present, they win hands down on "less expensive" and put in a decent showing on a couple more factors.
If the first order of genetic modification is deliberately keeping desirable mutations, then this is the second order: creating conditions for such genetic modifications to occur more rapidly.
Half the rice grown in California is a descendant of Calrose 76, created when gamma rays mutated some regular rice and the resulting mutant produced more grain and less spoilage.
Today, genetic modification efforts are much more directed.
This couldn't happen in nature (or, more precisely, could in theory, but is extremely unlikely).
This is the part that makes some people even more nervous.
It affects more than one hundred million people in a hundred countries, kills more than a million people a year, and blinds another half million for good measure.
UNICEF has said a program that gives children two large doses a year of vitamin A could all but eliminate VAD, although more frequent, smaller doses would be better.
This same technology will allow farming to be much, much more efficient.
Precision agriculture involves collecting massive amounts of data, more than any human can process, and applying various algorithms, self-teaching in nature, to achieve optimum outcomes.
And advances in drip irrigation, which itself isn't exactly new but is becoming far more widespread and ever more efficient, allows crops to be grown with massively less water.
The access to information that mobile phones are bringing virtually everywhere on the planet is helping people raise their standard of living and will do so even more dramatically in the years to come.
During this three-year period, conveniently named by the Chinese "The Three Years of Natural Disasters," no one really knows how many people died; estimates range from fifteen million to a high of more than forty-five million.
And the great tragedy is: During these three years, China exported more than twelve million tons of grain along with a literal cornucopia of other agricultural products.
As people grow wealthier (as the whole world will), they typically spend more money on food, though it is less as a percentage of overall income.
They also become more interested in the food they eat.
People who buy organic food, for instance, are not doing it simply because they have more money.
As the world grows richer, people will care more about how their food is made, how the animals are treated, whether the laborer who picked the food is paid a living wage.
But over time, as incomes around the world rise, people will migrate more and more to products associated with social practices that match their own ideals.
We will learn to grow more crops in more places, and make great breakthroughs relating to our seeds and our systems.
With communications, we will grow more efficient.
Do not expect this to be a uniformly reassuring journey; it may be more of a roller-coaster ride with some rather bleak descents.
More and more, those wishing to change the status quo adopt this as their primary tactic.
More and more, those wishing to change the status quo adopt this as their primary tactic.
Even our aspirations have become more civilized.
By declaring a pretty broad range of things worth killing and dying for, we say that each of those is more precious to us than human life.
If it was true then, then it is even more true now.
For these reasons and a hundred more, government should be the smallest unit that is economically and politically viable.
They can standardize in a thousand more ways to a world economy, while maintaining their values, traditions, and distinctions.
That is exactly what happens, again and again, with unspeakable results: dead bodies by the millions, each someone's child, and millions more mutilated.
The wealthier a nation gets, the more it stands to lose in war, and the less marginal utility it gains in conquest.
If you have everything you have ever wanted, you have less to gain and more to lose by invading your neighbor.
It is this combined with the fact that their targets, too, are worth more; the cost of rebuilding a modern city today dwarfs the cost of rebuilding that city fifty years ago.
One can only assume it would be substantially more if it were to be leveled with a nuclear device.
More and more of the things we have, we "can't live without."
More and more of the things we have, we "can't live without."
Since war historically has interrupted the flow of consumer goods, and would do so even more in our present interconnected world, preserving our hard-earned possessions provides an additional disincentive to war.
What I am saying is that as more factors align toward peace, peace becomes ever more the better economic option.
Public opinion is ever more in the peace camp because the vast majority of the economy doesn't benefit financially in times of war.
If the nation goes to war, the military would need more C2000s, right?
That's certainly good for you; more C2000s means more profit.
Plus, if there is war, there are more competitors.
When partners trade more, they fight less.
But in addition, when nations trade, the underlying economies themselves grow ever more intertwined.
Anything that creates a more intertwined world without compromising autonomy, self-rule, and self-determination is good for peace.
The more I have a personal vested interest in your success, the better.
All this together means that our economic fates are more intertwined than ever.
Now, however, more and more wealth is tied up in intangibles such as intellectual property, patents, brands, media, and contracts.
More wealth is digital, to be sure, but immeasurably more wealth is tied up in the intricacies of society itself.
More wealth is digital, to be sure, but immeasurably more wealth is tied up in the intricacies of society itself.
The bully will now be more inclined to leave the kid alone.
These and literally thousands more issues are worked out in treaties and agreements between nations.
Ever more accurate sensors can track the contents of ocean water or assess food safety.
We choose it much more often than we should.
It is the ultimate manifestation of the marketplace of ideas; the more people who proffer their ideas to the world, the better the outcome will be for us all.
More precisely, it catalogues and tracks them and then allows you to communicate with them easily.
Thus one's Facebook friends may be more diverse in all sorts of ways than one's "actual" friends.
We tend to regard information that comes to us through our friend network as more authentic and reliable than information we receive from traditional media.
Also, simply having a Facebook friend in Albania will tend to make you more interested in the events of Albania.
More information leads to more peace, unless you want to argue that ignorance is more peaceful.
More information leads to more peace, unless you want to argue that ignorance is more peaceful.
More official information transparency.
Fast-forward a couple of decades, and the Internet has done vastly more than O'Neill could have imagined to promote open information about government.
Other nations are becoming more transparent as well.
Around the world, more than a billion mobile devices that both take and send photographs are currently in use, spread even to the poorest parts of the globe.
In the end, this means more peace.
More people speak some English than any other language.
More people are learning English in China than there are people who speak it in the United States.
It is already the official language in more than fifty countries spread across every continent.
More people coming online.
It seems fitting to end this part of the list—ways that information and communication will help end war—by noting that every day, every moment, more and more people have access to the Internet.
Today, there are more than one hundred million.
In Central and South America in 2000 were eighteen million Internet users; today, more than two hundred million.
As of the end of 2012, the Internet has more than two billion users.
We are more than three-quarters of the way through our forty-three steps toward world peace.
Educated people seem to pose more of a threat to autocrats.
The world is becoming more educated at an amazing rate.
This all leads to more peaceful states.
Young people, who would be expected to do the dying if another war came, are generally more determined to keep the peace than their elders.
According to Pew Research Center data reported in USA Today in 2011, Marriages between spouses of different races and ethnicities are more common than ever before ...
This is a force for peace, as more and more people have family members in more than one culture and share the interests of more than one nationality.
More exchange students, more studying abroad.
More exchange students, more studying abroad.
According to Allan Goodman, president and CEO of the Institute of International Education, The United States continues to host more international students than any other country in the world.
And with every passing year, more people have visited more places.
In 2011, more than one hundred million Americans had passports.
In addition, more than one billion of the world's seven billion people visited a country other than their own in 2011.
More than 70 percent of the British have passports, as do 50 percent of Canadians and 25 percent of Japanese.
More people using passports to travel internationally will increase understanding and help reduce touch points that could lead to war.
We don't simply have more video screens; we now have an infinitude of broadcasters.
As civilization advances, we are becoming better people, and unquestionably more empathic.
In World War II, even more battles had a million casualties each.
In this way, you are processing aurally, which is much slower but more focused than silent reading.
In one case, the technology, writing, probably resulted in our memories getting worse, but we gained much more than we lost.
So in the present and future, when a technology comes along that represents such a change—that saves details of our activities with which to advise us later, or has us speaking to machines as if they were creatures—it will simply be more of the same.
As more nations become wealthier, they become more educated.
Once they become more educated, they are better able to participate in the modern economy.
More minds are thinking about more problems, coming up with better solutions.
More minds are thinking about more problems, coming up with better solutions.
We are heading toward that, which makes progress ever more certain.
I can list a few that might eliminate it and a few more that might delay it.
The ability of a few people to do a massive amount of damage rises as civilization becomes more complex and destructive power increases.
We will end war by making peace more desirable.
At the time in history when our future has never looked brighter, it is baffling that some people are more pessimistic than ever.
I did nothing but explore with my hands and learn the name of every object that I touched; and the more I handled things and learned their names and uses, the more joyous and confident grew my sense of kinship with the rest of the world.
As my knowledge of things grew I felt more and more the delight of the world I was in.
It seemed to me that there could be nothing more beautiful than the sun, whose warmth makes all things grow.
How much more this difficulty must be augmented in the case of those who are both deaf and blind!
Even when I studied most earnestly it seemed more like play than work.
I never had patience to arrange more than five or six groups at a time.
Miss Sullivan and I kept up a game of guessing which taught me more about the use of language than any set lessons could have done.
I was more interested, I think, in the great rock on which the Pilgrims landed than in anything else in Plymouth.
I could touch it, and perhaps that made the coming of the Pilgrims and their toils and great deeds seem more real to me.
Hour by hour the flakes dropped silently, softly from their airy height to the earth, and the country became more and more level.
It astonished me to find how much easier it is to talk than to spell with the fingers, and I discarded the manual alphabet as a medium of communication on my part; but Miss Sullivan and a few friends still use it in speaking to me, for it is more convenient and more rapid than lip-reading.
I do not feel each letter any more than you see each letter separately when you read.
The mere spelling is, of course, no more a conscious act than it is in writing.
It seems to me that the great difficulty of writing is to make the language of the educated mind express our confused ideas, half feelings, half thoughts, when we are little more than bundles of instinctive tendencies.
An impish fear clutched my hand, so that I could not write any more that day.
I cannot fathom or define their meaning any more than I can fathom or define love or religion or goodness.
From these relics I learned more about the progress of man than I have heard or read since.
Before October, 1893, I had studied various subjects by myself in a more or less desultory manner.
Indeed, I think I made more progress in German than in any of my other studies.
I found French much more difficult.
When I was not guessing, I was jumping at conclusions, and this fault, in addition to my dullness, aggravated my difficulties more than was right or necessary.
No one realized more fully than dear Frau Grote how slow and inadequate her spelling was.
Burke's speech was more instructive than any other book on a political subject that I had ever read.
I wondered more and more, while Burke's masterly speech rolled on in mighty surges of eloquence, how it was that King George and his ministers could have turned a deaf ear to his warning prophecy of our victory and their humiliation.
I still found more difficulty in mastering problems in mathematics than I did in any other of my studies.
Both Mr. Keith and I were distressed and full of forebodings for the morrow; but we went over to the college a little before the examination began, and had Mr. Vining explain more fully the American symbols.
Consequently, I need more time to prepare my lessons than other girls.
One more effort and I reach the luminous cloud, the blue depths of the sky, the uplands of my desire.
Many scholars forget, it seems to me, that our enjoyment of the great works of literature depends more upon the depth of our sympathy than upon our understanding.
Indeed, books have meant so much more in my education than in that of others, that I shall go back to the time when I began to read.
Could there be anything more dramatic than the scene in which Esther stands before her wicked lord?
More than once in the course of my story I have referred to my love of the country and out-of-door sports.
I had another tree friend, gentle and more approachable than the great oak--a linden that grew in the dooryard at Red Farm.
I should think the wonderful rhythmical flow of lines and curves could be more subtly felt than seen.
Another pleasure, which comes more rarely than the others, is going to the theatre.
I enjoy having a play described to me while it is being acted on the stage far more than reading it, because then it seems as if I were living in the midst of stirring events.
Since Bishop Brooks died I have read the Bible through; also some philosophical works on religion, among them Swedenborg's "Heaven and Hell" and Drummond's "Ascent of Man," and I have found no creed or system more soul-satisfying than Bishop Brooks's creed of love.
He said he was the little boy in the poem, and that the girl's name was Sally, and more which I have forgotten.
He makes you feel that if you only had a little more time, you, too, might be an inventor.
By the following September Helen shows improvement in fulness of construction and more extended relations of thought.
A few weeks later her style is more nearly correct and freer in movement.
More adjectives appear, including adjectives of colour.
I will not write more to-day.
She does not want me to write more today.
When the leaves and the trees fell, the water and the soil covered them; and then more trees grew and fell also, and were buried under water and soil.
Only once afterward in fifteen years was their constant companionship broken for more than a few days at a time.
I send you five thousand kisses, and more love than I can tell.
And the more we love the more near we are to God and His Love.
All this is what you are to think of and to understand more and more as you grow older.
It does great credit, not only to you, but to your instructors, who have so broken down the walls that seemed to shut you in that now your outlook seems more bright and cheerful than that of many seeing and hearing children.
The contributions amounted to more than sixteen hundred dollars.
But lo! the lovely maiden only smiles more sweetly, and breathes upon the icy battlements of her enemies, and in a moment they vanish, and the glad Earth gives her a royal welcome.
The tea brought more than two thousand dollars for the blind children.
Need I tell you that I was more than delighted to hear that you are really interested in the "tea"?
We thought everything was arranged: but we found Monday that Mrs. Elliott would not be willing to let us invite more than fifty people, because Mrs. Howe's house is quite small.
In a prefatory note which Miss Sullivan wrote for St. Nicholas, she says that people frequently said to her, "Helen sees more with her fingers than we do with our eyes."
I believe they gave me more pleasure than anything else at the Fair: they were so lifelike and wonderful to my touch.
Once, while we were out on the water, the sun went down over the rim of the earth, and threw a soft, rosy light over the White City, making it look more than ever like Dreamland....
We enjoyed the beauty and solitude of the hills more than ever.
I did not like to trouble them while I was trying to get money for poor little Tommy, for of course it was more important that he should be educated than that my people should have books to read. 4.
I enjoy my singing lessons with Dr. Humason more than I can say.
The glorious bay lay calm and beautiful in the October sunshine, and the ships came and went like idle dreams; those seaward going slowly disappeared like clouds that change from gold to gray; those homeward coming sped more quickly like birds that seek their mother's nest....
Here we are once more in the great metropolis!
Sometimes it really seems as if the task which we have set ourselves were more than we can accomplish; but at other times I enjoy my work more than I can say.
Indeed, I feel that the success is hers more than mine; for she is my constant inspiration....
Besides, I have been told that "sociables" cost more than other kinds of bicycles.
The "Iliad" is beautiful with all the truth, and grace and simplicity of a wonderfully childlike people while the "Aeneid" is more stately and reserved.
Next to my own dear teacher, he has done more than any one else to enrich and broaden my mind.
As to the two-handed alphabet, I think it is much easier for those who have sight than the manual alphabet; for most of the letters look like the large capitals in books; but I think when it comes to teaching a deaf-blind person to spell, the manual alphabet is much more convenient, and less conspicuous....
My teacher's eyes are no better: indeed, I think they grow more troublesome, though she is very brave and patient, and will not give up.
I really believe he knows more Latin and Greek Grammar than Cicero or Homer ever dreamed of!
She said she did not consider a degree of any real value, but thought it was much more desirable to do something original than to waste one's energies only for a degree.
Now there is one more fact, which I wish to state very plainly, in regard to what Mr. Gilman wrote to you.
I love him more than ever.
TO MR. JOHN HITZ 138 Brattle Street, Cambridge, Feb. 3, 1900. ...My studies are more interesting than ever.
Perhaps next week I shall have some more books, "The Tempest," "A Midsummer Night's Dream" and possibly some selections from Green's history of England.
They were very kind; but I could not help feeling that they spoke more from a business than a humanitarian point of view.
We clapped our hands and shouted;--went away beaming with pleasure, and Teacher and I felt more light of heart than we had for sometime.
I'm enjoying my work even more than I expected to, which is another way of saying that I'm glad I came.
I ought to apologize to the reader and to Miss Keller for presuming to say what her subject matter is worth, but one more explanation is necessary.
The admiration with which the world has regarded her is more than justified by what she has done.
She seems to be more nervous than she really is, because she expresses more with her hands than do most English-speaking people.
She suggests herself that she can know them better than we do, because she can get the true dimensions and appreciate more immediately the solid nature of a sculptured figure.
If more people knew this, and the friends and relatives of deaf children learned the manual alphabet at once the deaf all over the world would be happier and better educated.
She is no more mysterious and complex than any other person.
Of the real world she knows more of the good and less of the evil than most people seem to know.
Miss Sullivan knew at the beginning that Helen Keller would be more interesting and successful than Laura Bridgman, and she expresses in one of her letters the need of keeping notes.
As Mr. Anagnos was the head of a great institution, what he said had much more effect than the facts in Miss Sullivan's account on which he based his statements.
Some of the details she had forgotten, as she grew more and more to generalize.
I shook my head and tried to form the letters with her fingers; but she got more and more angry.
Every thwarted desire was the signal for a passionate outburst, and as she grew older and stronger, these tempests became more violent.
She played with her dolls more than usual, and would have nothing to do with me.
The improvement they cannot help seeing in their child has given them more confidence in me.
In a previous letter I think I wrote you that "mug" and "milk" had given Helen more trouble than all the rest.
And we notice that her face grows more expressive each day.
Helen knows the meaning of more than a hundred words now, and learns new ones daily without the slightest suspicion that she is performing a most difficult feat.
"Milk," with a gesture means, "Give me more milk."
Again, when I hid the spool, she looked for it in a little box not more than an inch long; and she very soon gave up the search.
No, I don't want any more kindergarten materials.
Whereas, if the child is left to himself, he will think more and better, if less showily.
She evidently thought mothers were more likely to know about babies of all sorts.
My work grows more absorbing and interesting every day.
I feel every day more and more inadequate.
But her appetite, which left her a few weeks ago, has returned, and her sleep seems more quiet and natural.
I held her hands firmly until she became more calm.
I told her that she had better not talk about it any more, but think.
Even then it looked more like a mechanical toy than a living creature.
"when?" especially "why?" all day long, and as her intelligence grows her inquiries become more insistent.
Her mind isn't more logical than the minds of ordinary children.
It was no doubt because of this ignorance that I rushed in where more experienced angels fear to tread.
Helen was eager to know "more colour."
Her passion for writing letters and putting her thoughts upon paper grows more intense.
Indeed, she remembers HELIOTROPE and CHRYSANTHEMUM more readily than she does shorter names.
When she touched one with which she was familiar, a peculiarly sweet expression lighted her face, and we saw her countenance growing sweeter and more earnest every day.
But his silence was more eloquent than words.
The simple facts would be so much more convincing!
Helen is more and more interested in colour.
Her motions are often more expressive than any words, and she is as graceful as a nymph.
The intellectual improvement which Helen has made in the past two years is shown more clearly in her greater command of language and in her ability to recognize nicer shades of meaning in the use of words, than in any other branch of her education.
One day as we left the library I noticed that she appeared more serious than usual, and I asked the cause.
The next lines are still more idiomatic, "When Suetonius left the country, they fell upon his troops and retook the island of Anglesea."
Children ask profound questions, but they often receive shallow answers, or, to speak more correctly, they are quieted by such answers.
It was more than a year before she alluded to the subject again, and when she did return to it, her questions were numerous and persistent.
"But," said Helen, quickly, "I think God could make some more worlds as well as He made this one."
When her friend added that some of the pupils he had seen in Budapest had more than one hundred tunes in their heads, she said, laughing, "I think their heads must be very noisy."
The fact that sin exists, and that great misery results from it, dawned gradually upon her mind as she understood more and more clearly the lives and experiences of those around her.
They require guidance and sympathy far more than instruction.
It is true, the more sensitive and imaginative the mind is that receives the thought-pictures and images of literature, the more nicely the finest lines are reproduced.
Helen has the vitality of feeling, the freshness and eagerness of interest, and the spiritual insight of the artistic temperament, and naturally she has a more active and intense joy in life, simply as life, and in nature, books, and people than less gifted mortals.
She got the language from the language itself, and this is, next to hearing the language spoken, the way for any one to get a foreign tongue, more vital and, in the end, easier than our schoolroom method of beginning with the grammar.
When Miss Sullivan went out in the barnyard and picked up a little chicken and talked to Helen about it, she was giving a kind of instruction impossible inside four walls, and impossible with more than one pupil at a time.
Another friend, who is as familiar with French as with English, finds her French much more intelligible than her English.
This difficulty and some others may be corrected when she and Miss Sullivan have more time.
Her pronunciation of this gradually became indistinct, and when I first knew her it was nothing more than a peculiar noise.
The last made me realize the great disappointment to the dear child more than before.
Then looking more closely at the trees around, they saw that the treasure was all melting away, and that much of it was already spread over the leaves of the oak trees and maples, which were shining with their gorgeous dress of gold and bronze, crimson and emerald.
Nothing could be more beautiful than the architecture of this ice-palace.
Then looking around more closely, they saw that much of the treasure was already melted, for the oaks and maples were arrayed in gorgeous dresses of gold and crimson and emerald.
I do not feel that I can add anything more that will be of interest.
Helen Keller writing "The Frost King" was building better than she knew and saying more than she meant.
I do not know whether the difference or the similarity in phrasing between the child's version and the woman's is the more remarkable.
They are regarded generally as far more appropriate in books and in public discourses than in the parlor or at the table.
To be sure, I take the keenest interest in everything that concerns those who surround me; it is this very interest which makes it so difficult for me to carry on a conversation with some people who will not talk or say what they think, but I should not be sorry to find more friends ready to talk with me now and then about the wonderful things I read.
I am too grateful for all these blessings to wish for more from princes, or from the gods.
More even than this, in your wickedness you destroy the peaceful homes of your clients!
I think that we may safely trust a good deal more than we do.
With respect to luxuries and comforts, the wisest have ever lived a more simple and meagre life than the poor.
The same is true of the more modern reformers and benefactors of their race.
Surely not more warmth of the same kind, as more and richer food, larger and more splendid houses, finer and more abundant clothing, more numerous, incessant, and hotter fires, and the like.
He was only a little more weather-beaten than when I saw him last.
Of two patterns which differ only by a few threads more or less of a particular color, the one will be sold readily, the other lie on the shelf, though it frequently happens that after the lapse of a season the latter becomes the most fashionable.
The condition of the operatives is becoming every day more like that of the English; and it cannot be wondered at, since, as far as I have heard or observed, the principal object is, not that mankind may be well and honestly clad, but, unquestionably, that corporations may be enriched.
At last, we know not what it is to live in the open air, and our lives are domestic in more senses than we think.
Many a man is harassed to death to pay the rent of a larger and more luxurious box who would not have frozen to death in such a box as this.
In the savage state every family owns a shelter as good as the best, and sufficient for its coarser and simpler wants; but I think that I speak within bounds when I say that, though the birds of the air have their nests, and the foxes their holes, and the savages their wigwams, in modern civilized society not more than one half the families own a shelter.
As I live, saith the Lord God, ye shall not have occasion any more to use this proverb in Israel.
Shall we always study to obtain more of these things, and not sometimes to be content with less?
Or what if I were to allow--would it not be a singular allowance?--that our furniture should be more complex than the Arab's, in proportion as we are morally and intellectually his superiors!
But are the more pressing wants satisfied now?
In such a neighborhood as this, boards and shingles, lime and bricks, are cheaper and more easily obtained than suitable caves, or whole logs, or bark in sufficient quantities, or even well-tempered clay or flat stones.
With a little more wit we might use these materials so as to become richer than the richest now are, and make our civilization a blessing.
The civilized man is a more experienced and wiser savage.
Before I had done I was more the friend than the foe of the pine tree, though I had cut down some of them, having become better acquainted with it.
No man was ever more honored in the character of his raisers than I. They are destined, I trust, to assist at the raising of loftier structures one day.
But a man has no more to do with the style of architecture of his house than a tortoise with that of its shell: nor need the soldier be so idle as to try to paint the precise color of his virtue on his standard.
If I seem to boast more than is becoming, my excuse is that I brag for humanity rather than for myself; and my shortcomings and inconsistencies do not affect the truth of my statement.
Tuition, for instance, is an important item in the term bill, while for the far more valuable education which he gets by associating with the most cultivated of his contemporaries no charge is made.
To my astonishment I was informed on leaving college that I had studied navigation!--why, if I had taken one turn down the harbor I should have known more about it.
This never costs anything to speak of, unless you plant more than enough.
I was more independent than any farmer in Concord, for I was not anchored to a house or farm, but could follow the bent of my genius, which is a very crooked one, every moment.
How much more admirable the Bhagvat-Geeta than all the ruins of the East!
One piece of good sense would be more memorable than a monument as high as the moon.
It costs more than it comes to.
It is simpler and more respectable to omit it.
Man is an animal who more than any other can adapt himself to all climates and circumstances.
For the most part the farmer gives to his cattle and hogs the grain of his own producing, and buys flour, which is at least no more wholesome, at a greater cost, at the store.
Indeed, the more you have of such things the poorer you are.
Even those who seem for a long while not to have any, if you inquire more narrowly you will find have some stored in somebody's barn.
For more than five years I maintained myself thus solely by the labor of my hands, and I found that, by working about six weeks in a year, I could meet all the expenses of living.
Undoubtedly, in this case, what is true for one is truer still for a thousand, as a large house is not proportionally more expensive than a small one, since one roof may cover, one cellar underlie, and one wall separate several apartments.
Men say, practically, Begin where you are and such as you are, without aiming mainly to become of more worth, and with kindness aforethought go about doing good.
If you give him money, he will perhaps buy more rags with it.
The kind uncles and aunts of the race are more esteemed than its true spiritual fathers and mothers.
I was in haste to buy it, before the proprietor finished getting out some rocks, cutting down the hollow apple trees, and grubbing up some young birches which had sprung up in the pasture, or, in short, had made any more of his improvements.
The oftener you go there the more it will please you, if it is good.
I think I shall not buy greedily, but go round and round it as long as I live, and be buried in it first, that it may please me the more at last.
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.
To my imagination it retained throughout the day more or less of this auroral character, reminding me of a certain house on a mountain which I had visited a year before.
A lake like this is never smoother than at such a time; and the clear portion of the air above it being, shallow and darkened by clouds, the water, full of light and reflections, becomes a lower heaven itself so much the more important.
Though the view from my door was still more contracted, I did not feel crowded or confined in the least.
It is something to be able to paint a particular picture, or to carve a statue, and so to make a few objects beautiful; but it is far more glorious to carve and paint the very atmosphere and medium through which we look, which morally we can do.
An honest man has hardly need to count more than his ten fingers, or in extreme cases he may add his ten toes, and lump the rest.
To speak critically, I never received more than one or two letters in my life--I wrote this some years ago--that were worth the postage.
What news! how much more important to know what that is which was never old!
Children, who play life, discern its true law and relations more clearly than men, who fail to live it worthily, but who think that they are wiser by experience, that is, by failure.
God himself culminates in the present moment, and will never be more divine in the lapse of all the ages.
I do not wish to be any more busy with my hands than is necessary.
Incessant labor with my hands, at first, for I had my house to finish and my beans to hoe at the same time, made more study impossible.
To read well, that is, to read true books in a true spirit, is a noble exercise, and one that will task the reader more than any exercise which the customs of the day esteem.
It is something at once more intimate with us and more universal than any other work of art.
Their authors are a natural and irresistible aristocracy in every society, and, more than kings or emperors, exert an influence on mankind.
This sort of gingerbread is baked daily and more sedulously than pure wheat or rye-and-Indian in almost every oven, and finds a surer market.
We spend more on almost any article of bodily aliment or ailment than on our mental aliment.
It can spend money enough on such things as farmers and traders value, but it is thought Utopian to propose spending money for things which more intelligent men know to be of far more worth.
It was worth the while to see the sun shine on these things, and hear the free wind blow on them; so much more interesting most familiar objects look out of doors than in the house.
I watch the passage of the morning cars with the same feeling that I do the rising of the sun, which is hardly more regular.
I see these men every day go about their business with more or less courage and content, doing more even than they suspect, and perchance better employed than they could have consciously devised.
This carload of torn sails is more legible and interesting now than if they should be wrought into paper and printed books.
He is more indigenous even than the natives.
Though it prevents my hoeing them, it is of far more worth than my hoeing.
In one heavy thunder-shower the lightning struck a large pitch pine across the pond, making a very conspicuous and perfectly regular spiral groove from top to bottom, an inch or more deep, and four or five inches wide, as you would groove a walking-stick.
We are for the most part more lonely when we go abroad among men than when we stay in our chambers.
So also, owing to bodily and mental health and strength, we may be continually cheered by a like but more normal and natural society, and come to know that we are never alone.
I am no more lonely than the loon in the pond that laughs so loud, or than Walden Pond itself.
I had more visitors while I lived in the woods than at any other period in my life; I mean that I had some.
A more simple and natural man it would be hard to find.
He cut his trees level and close to the ground, that the sprouts which came up afterward might be more vigorous and a sled might slide over the stumps; and instead of leaving a whole tree to support his corded wood, he would pare it away to a slender stake or splinter which you could break off with your hand at last.
He was so genuine and unsophisticated that no introduction would serve to introduce him, more than if you introduced a woodchuck to your neighbor.
I had more cheering visitors than the last.
I came to love my rows, my beans, though so many more than I wanted.
It was the only open and cultivated field for a great distance on either side of the road, so they made the most of it; and sometimes the man in the field heard more of travellers' gossip and comment than was meant for his ear: "Beans so late! peas so late!"--for I continued to plant when others had begun to hoe--the ministerial husbandman had not suspected it.
We should really be fed and cheered if when we met a man we were sure to see that some of the qualities which I have named, which we all prize more than those other productions, but which are for the most part broadcast and floating in the air, had taken root and grown in him.
This broad field which I have looked at so long looks not to me as the principal cultivator, but away from me to influences more genial to it, which water and make it green.
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.
Besides, there was a still more terrible standing invitation to call at every one of these houses, and company expected about these times.
These take place only in communities where some have got more than is sufficient while others have not enough.
All our Concord waters have two colors at least; one when viewed at a distance, and another, more proper, close at hand.
The first depends more on the light, and follows the sky.
These are all very firm fish, and weigh more than their size promises.
I have said that Walden has no visible inlet nor outlet, but it is on the one hand distantly and indirectly related to Flint's Pond, which is more elevated, by a chain of small ponds coming from that quarter, and on the other directly and manifestly to Concord River, which is lower, by a similar chain of ponds through which in some other geological period it may have flowed, and by a little digging, which God forbid, it can be made to flow thither again.
It is much larger, being said to contain one hundred and ninety-seven acres, and is more fertile in fish; but it is comparatively shallow, and not remarkably pure.
How much more beautiful than our lives, how much more transparent than our characters, are they!
I like sometimes to take rank hold on life and spend my day more as the animals do.
Almost every New England boy among my contemporaries shouldered a fowling-piece between the ages of ten and fourteen; and his hunting and fishing grounds were not limited, like the preserves of an English nobleman, but were more boundless even than those of a savage.
It was insignificant and unnecessary, and cost more than it came to.
It appeared more beautiful to live low and fare hard in many respects; and though I never did so, I went far enough to please my imagination.
If the day and the night are such that you greet them with joy, and life emits a fragrance like flowers and sweet-scented herbs, is more elastic, more starry, more immortal--that is your success.
What avails it that you are Christian, if you are not purer than the heathen, if you deny yourself no more, if you are not more religious?
John Farmer sat at his door one September evening, after a hard day's work, his mind still running on his labor more or less.
It was no more than the scurf of his skin, which was constantly shuffled off.
They are not callow like the young of most birds, but more perfectly developed and precocious even than chickens.
They fought with more pertinacity than bulldogs.
The more you think of it, the less the difference.
But I was more than a match for him on the surface.
He dived again, but I miscalculated the direction he would take, and we were fifty rods apart when he came to the surface this time, for I had helped to widen the interval; and again he laughed long and loud, and with more reason than before.
In October I went a-graping to the river meadows, and loaded myself with clusters more precious for their beauty and fragrance than for food.
They grew also behind my house, and one large tree, which almost overshadowed it, was, when in flower, a bouquet which scented the whole neighborhood, but the squirrels and the jays got most of its fruit; the last coming in flocks early in the morning and picking the nuts out of the burs before they fell, I relinquished these trees to them and visited the more distant woods composed wholly of chestnut.
My bricks, being second-hand ones, required to be cleaned with a trowel, so that I learned more than usual of the qualities of bricks and trowels.
My house never pleased my eye so much after it was plastered, though I was obliged to confess that it was more comfortable.
These forms are more agreeable to the fancy and imagination than fresco paintings or other the most expensive furniture.
One day when I came to the same place forty-eight hours afterward, I found that those large bubbles were still perfect, though an inch more of ice had formed, as I could see distinctly by the seam in the edge of a cake.
Michaux, more than thirty years ago, says that the price of wood for fuel in New York and Philadelphia "nearly equals, and sometimes exceeds, that of the best wood in Paris, though this immense capital annually requires more than three hundred thousand cords, and is surrounded to the distance of three hundred miles by cultivated plains."
I love to have mine before my window, and the more chips the better to remind me of my pleasing work.
As my driver prophesied when I was plowing, they warmed me twice--once while I was splitting them, and again when they were on the fire, so that no fuel could give out more heat.
Though mainly but a humble route to neighboring villages, or for the woodman's team, it once amused the traveller more than now by its variety, and lingered longer in his memory.
Once more, on the left, where are seen the well and lilac bushes by the wall, in the now open field, lived Nutting and Le Grosse.
He was a man of manners, like one who had seen the world, and was capable of more civil speech than you could well attend to.
But all I can learn of their conclusions amounts to just this, that "Cato and Brister pulled wool"; which is about as edifying as the history of more famous schools of philosophy.
But this small village, germ of something more, why did it fail while Concord keeps its ground?
Deliver me from a city built on the site of a more ancient city, whose materials are ruins, whose gardens cemeteries.
There was one other with whom I had "solid seasons," long to be remembered, at his house in the village, and who looked in upon me from time to time; but I had no more for society there.
A little flock of these titmice came daily to pick a dinner out of my woodpile, or the crumbs at my door, with faint flitting lisping notes, like the tinkling of icicles in the grass, or else with sprightly day day day, or more rarely, in spring-like days, a wiry summery phe-be from the woodside.
I remember well one gaunt Nimrod who would catch up a leaf by the roadside and play a strain on it wilder and more melodious, if my memory serves me, than any hunting-horn.
If the forest is cut off, the sprouts and bushes which spring up afford them concealment, and they become more numerous than ever.
He would perhaps have placed alder branches over the narrow holes in the ice, which were four or five rods apart and an equal distance from the shore, and having fastened the end of the line to a stick to prevent its being pulled through, have passed the slack line over a twig of the alder, a foot or more above the ice, and tied a dry oak leaf to it, which, being pulled down, would show when he had a bite.
In the deepest part there are several acres more level than almost any field which is exposed to the sun, wind, and plow.
Of course, a stream running through, or an island in the pond, would make the problem much more complicated.
Our notions of law and harmony are commonly confined to those instances which we detect; but the harmony which results from a far greater number of seemingly conflicting, but really concurring, laws, which we have not detected, is still more wonderful.
Every morning, generally speaking, the shallow water is being warmed more rapidly than the deep, though it may not be made so warm after all, and every evening it is being cooled more rapidly until the morning.
It took a short siesta at noon, and boomed once more toward night, as the sun was withdrawing his influence.
As it flows it takes the forms of sappy leaves or vines, making heaps of pulpy sprays a foot or more in depth, and resembling, as you look down on them, the laciniated, lobed, and imbricated thalluses of some lichens; or you are reminded of coral, of leopard's paws or birds' feet, of brains or lungs or bowels, and excrements of all kinds.
Who knows what the human body would expand and flow out to under a more genial heaven?
I know of nothing more purgative of winter fumes and indigestions.
How handsome the great sweeping curves in the edge of the ice, answering somewhat to those of the shore, but more regular!
But this spring it broke up more steadily, as I have said.
I heard a robin in the distance, the first I had heard for many a thousand years, methought, whose note I shall not forget for many a thousand more--the same sweet and powerful song as of yore.
The pitch pines and shrub oaks about my house, which had so long drooped, suddenly resumed their several characters, looked brighter, greener, and more erect and alive, as if effectually cleansed and restored by the rain.
The phÅ“be had already come once more and looked in at my door and window, to see if my house was cavern-like enough for her, sustaining herself on humming wings with clinched talons, as if she held by the air, while she surveyed the premises.
The wild goose is more of a cosmopolite than we; he breaks his fast in Canada, takes a luncheon in the Ohio, and plumes himself for the night in a southern bayou.
Perhaps it seemed to me that I had several more lives to live, and could not spare any more time for that one.
Who that has heard a strain of music feared then lest he should speak extravagantly any more forever?
"They pretend," as I hear, "that the verses of Kabir have four different senses; illusion, spirit, intellect, and the exoteric doctrine of the Vedas"; but in this part of the world it is considered a ground for complaint if a man's writings admit of more than one interpretation.
While England endeavors to cure the potato-rot, will not any endeavor to cure the brain-rot, which prevails so much more widely and fatally?
I do not suppose that I have attained to obscurity, but I should be proud if no more fatal fault were found with my pages on this score than was found with the Walden ice.
He had made a new system in making a staff, a world with full and fair proportions; in which, though the old cities and dynasties had passed away, fairer and more glorious ones had taken their places.
They talked to me of the age of the wine and the fame of the vintage; but I thought of an older, a newer, and purer wine, of a more glorious vintage, which they had not got, and could not buy.
There is more day to dawn.
I heartily accept the motto,--"That government is best which governs least"; and I should like to see it acted up to more rapidly and systematically.
Law never made men a whit more just; and, by means of their respect for it, even the well-disposed are daily made the agents of injustice.
Such command no more respect than men of straw or a lump of dirt.
What makes this duty the more urgent is the fact that the country so overrun is not our own, but ours is the invading army.
But no: I find that the respectable man, so called, has immediately drifted from his position, and despairs of his country, when his country has more reason to despair of him.
Absolutely speaking, the more money, the less virtue; for money comes between a man and his objects, and obtains them for him; and it was certainly no great virtue to obtain it.
But I warn you, if you don't tell me that this means war, if you still try to defend the infamies and horrors perpetrated by that Antichrist--I really believe he is Antichrist--I will have nothing more to do with you and you are no longer my friend, no longer my 'faithful slave,' as you call yourself!
He said no more, but expressed his resignation to cruel fate by a gesture.
Not letting the abbe and Pierre escape, Anna Pavlovna, the more conveniently to keep them under observation, brought them into the larger circle.
He wished to say something more, but at that moment Prince Vasili and his daughter got up to go and the two young men rose to let them pass.
Nothing! and he became more animated.
"Lise, I beg you to desist," said Prince Andrew still more emphatically.
Pierre took off his spectacles, which made his face seem different and the good-natured expression still more apparent, and gazed at his friend in amazement.
It was evident that the more lifeless he seemed at ordinary times, the more impassioned he became in these moments of almost morbid irritation.
But the nearer he drew to the house the more he felt the impossibility of going to sleep on such a night.
It was light enough to see a long way in the deserted street and it seemed more like morning or evening than night.
He'll be killed, said this more sensible man.
It seemed to him that more than half an hour had elapsed.
As he began slipping down, his head and arm wavered still more with the strain.
"How funny you are!" he said, bending down to her and blushing still more, but he waited and did nothing.
After receiving her visitors, the countess was so tired that she gave orders to admit no more, but the porter was told to be sure to invite to dinner all who came "to congratulate."
She seemed that day to be more than ever kind and affectionate to everyone.
You are a Madame de Genlis and nothing more" (this nickname, bestowed on Vera by Nicholas, was considered very stinging), "and your greatest pleasure is to be unpleasant to people!
Boris said no more, but looked inquiringly at his mother without taking off his cloak.
"My dear," she said to her son, once more stimulating him by a touch, "you promised me!"
"We here in Moscow are more occupied with dinner parties and scandal than with politics," said he in his quiet ironical tone.
For a long time Pierre could not understand, but when he did, he jumped up from the sofa, seized Boris under the elbow in his quick, clumsy way, and, blushing far more than Boris, began to speak with a feeling of mingled shame and vexation.
The countess in turn, without omitting her duties as hostess, threw significant glances from behind the pineapples at her husband whose face and bald head seemed by their redness to contrast more than usual with his gray hair.
At the ladies' end an even chatter of voices was heard all the time, at the men's end the voices sounded louder and louder, especially that of the colonel of hussars who, growing more and more flushed, ate and drank so much that the count held him up as a pattern to the other guests.
At the men's end of the table the talk grew more and more animated.
Once more the conversations concentrated, the ladies' at the one end and the men's at the other.
What sweets are we going to have? and Natasha's voice sounded still more firm and resolute.
And again she began to sob, more bitterly than before.
What was expressed by the whole of the count's plump figure, in Marya Dmitrievna found expression only in her more and more beaming face and quivering nose.
Prince Vasili said no more and his cheeks began to twitch nervously, now on one side, now on the other, giving his face an unpleasant expression which was never to be seen on it in a drawing room.
The princess smiled as people do who think they know more about the subject under discussion than those they are talking with.
"I can tell you more," continued Prince Vasili, seizing her hand, "that letter was written, though it was not sent, and the Emperor knew of it.
"Do you or do you not know where that will is?" insisted Prince Vasili, his cheeks twitching more than ever.
Anna Mikhaylovna evinced no surprise, she only smiled faintly and sighed, as if to say that this was no more than she had expected.
With the air of a practical Petersburg lady she now, keeping Pierre close beside her, entered the room even more boldly than that afternoon.
This young man is the count's son, she added more softly.
As soon as Anna Mikhaylovna had disappeared he noticed that the eyes of all in the room turned to him with something more than curiosity and sympathy.
Pierre paid no more attention to this occurrence than to the rest of what went on, having made up his mind once for all that what he saw happening around him that evening was in some way essential.
Here! exclaimed different voices; and the heavy breathing of the bearers and the shuffling of their feet grew more hurried, as if the weight they were carrying were too much for them.
Once more Pierre looked questioningly at Anna Mikhaylovna to see what he was to do next.
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.
"Read this if you like, Father," said the princess, blushing still more and holding out the letter.
I pity Prince Vasili but am still more sorry for Pierre.
He made no reply on his father's favorite topic-- making fun of the military men of the day, and more particularly of Bonaparte.
Prince Andrew, seeing that his father insisted, began--at first reluctantly, but gradually with more and more animation, and from habit changing unconsciously from Russian to French as he went on--to explain the plan of operation for the coming campaign.
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."
At dinner the prince usually spoke to the taciturn Michael Ivanovich more often than to anyone else.
He asked about mutual acquaintances, and she became still more animated and chattered away giving him greetings from various people and retelling the town gossip.
"Countess Apraksina, poor thing, has lost her husband and she has cried her eyes out," she said, growing more and more lively.
As she became animated the prince looked at her more and more sternly, and suddenly, as if he had studied her sufficiently and had formed a definite idea of her, he turned away and addressed Michael Ivanovich.
"Dieu sait quand reviendra..." hummed the prince out of tune and, with a laugh still more so, he quitted the table.
You know I always was a savage, and now am even more so.
More than half the men's boots were in holes.
You'd better listen more carefully!
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.
His face expressed more satisfaction with himself and those around him, his smile and glance were brighter and more attractive.
Are there many more of you to come?
Perched up there, you're more like a bird than a man.
The enemy ceased firing, and that stern, threatening, inaccessible, and intangible line which separates two hostile armies was all the more clearly felt.
After his dismissal from headquarters Zherkov had not remained in the regiment, saying he was not such a fool as to slave at the front when he could get more rewards by doing nothing on the staff, and had succeeded in attaching himself as an orderly officer to Prince Bagration.
In each of the long German carts six or more pale, dirty, bandaged men were being jolted over the stony road.
Some of them were talking (he heard Russian words), others were eating bread; the more severely wounded looked silently, with the languid interest of sick children, at the envoy hurrying past them.
Despite his rapid journey and sleepless night, Prince Andrew when he drove up to the palace felt even more vigorous and alert than he had done the day before.
I could not have a more welcome visitor, said Bilibin as he came out to meet Prince Andrew.
They had known each other previously in Petersburg, but had become more intimate when Prince Andrew was in Vienna with Kutuzov.
If we were in Vienna it would be easy, but here, in this wretched Moravian hole, it is more difficult, and I beg you all to help me.
"In general we must turn this bloodthirsty soldier to more humane interests," said Bilibin.
"I cannot inform Your Majesty at what o'clock the battle began at the front, but at Durrenstein, where I was, our attack began after five in the afternoon," replied Bolkonski growing more animated and expecting that he would have a chance to give a reliable account, which he had ready in his mind, of all he knew and had seen.
At each ascent or descent of the road the crowds were yet denser and the din of shouting more incessant.
He saw that his championship of the doctor's wife in her queer trap might expose him to what he dreaded more than anything in the world--to ridicule; but his instinct urged him on.
"Now what does this mean, gentlemen?" said the staff officer, in the reproachful tone of a man who has repeated the same thing more than once.
The farther forward and nearer the enemy he went, the more orderly and cheerful were the troops.
At Grunth also some apprehension and alarm could be felt, but the nearer Prince Andrew came to the French lines the more confident was the appearance of our troops.
He heard the cannonade behind him growing louder and more frequent.
"Lift it two lines more and it will be just right," cried he in a feeble voice to which he tried to impart a dashing note, ill-suited to his weak figure.
Officers who approached him with disturbed countenances became calm; soldiers and officers greeted him gaily, grew more cheerful in his presence, and were evidently anxious to display their courage before him.
The nearer they got to the hollow the less they could see but the more they felt the nearness of the actual battlefield.
He spoke as if those bullets could not kill him, and his half-closed eyes gave still more persuasiveness to his words.
Rostov anticipated his horse's movements and became more and more elated.
Then came two more, and many more running behind.
For more than ten seconds he stood not moving from the spot or realizing the situation.
His face grew more and more animated.
On the contrary, he became more and more elated.
In that world, the handsome drunkard Number One of the second gun's crew was "uncle"; Tushin looked at him more often than at anyone else and took delight in his every movement.
It was growing dark and the glow of two conflagrations was the more conspicuous.
Amid the general rumble, the groans and voices of the wounded were more distinctly heard than any other sound in the darkness of the night.
Fires were lighted and the talk became more audible.
The pain in his arm became more and more intense.
Something always drew him toward those richer and more powerful than himself and he had rare skill in seizing the most opportune moment for making use of people.
He was always hearing such words as: "With your remarkable kindness," or, "With your excellent heart," "You are yourself so honorable Count," or, "Were he as clever as you," and so on, till he began sincerely to believe in his own exceptional kindness and extraordinary intelligence, the more so as in the depth of his heart it had always seemed to him that he really was very kind and intelligent.
On either side of her sat the more important guests--an old general and his wife, and Anna Pavlovna Scherer.
"You thought!" shouted the prince, his words coming more and more rapidly and indistinctly.
Dressed as she used to be in Petersburg society, it was still more noticeable how much plainer she had become.
Princess Mary's self-esteem was wounded by the fact that the arrival of a suitor agitated her, and still more so by both her companions' not having the least conception that it could be otherwise.
"Come, dear princess," said Mademoiselle Bourienne, "just one more little effort."
The more she tried to hide this feeling from others and even from herself, the stronger it grew.
And he sat down again, paying no more attention to his daughter, who was reduced to tears.
The insult was the more pointed because it concerned not himself but another, his daughter, whom he loved more than himself.
I love you more than ever," said Princess Mary, "and I will try to do all I can for your happiness."
"Not more stupid than you, madam," said the nine-year-old Petya, with the air of an old brigadier.
For more than a week preparations were being made, rough drafts of letters to Nicholas from all the household were written and copied out, while under the supervision of the countess and the solicitude of the count, money and all things necessary for the uniform and equipment of the newly commissioned officer were collected.
This pleased Rostov and he began talking about it, and as he went on became more and more animated.
"We shall probably advance," replied Bolkonski, evidently reluctant to say more in the presence of a stranger.
And he was still more angry at having omitted to say it.
The Tsar said something more which Rostov did not hear, and the soldiers, straining their lungs, shouted "Hurrah!"
All were then more confident of victory than the winning of two battles would have made them.
"Very well, then, be so good as to wait," said Prince Andrew to the general, in Russian, speaking with the French intonation he affected when he wished to speak contemptuously, and noticing Boris, Prince Andrew, paying no more heed to the general who ran after him imploring him to hear something more, nodded and turned to him with a cheerful smile.
More than ever was Boris resolved to serve in future not according to the written code, but under this unwritten law.
He would say a lot of pleasant things, ask you to dinner" ("That would not be bad as regards the unwritten code," thought Boris), "but nothing more would come of it.
This combination of Austrian precision with Russian valor--what more could be wished for?
My brother knows him, he's dined with him--the present Emperor--more than once in Paris, and tells me he never met a more cunning or subtle diplomatist--you know, a combination of French adroitness and Italian play-acting!
He felt it not only from the sound of the hoofs of the approaching cavalcade, but because as he drew near everything grew brighter, more joyful, more significant, and more festive around him.
Casually, while surveying the squadron, the Emperor's eyes met Rostov's and rested on them for not more than two seconds.
Can't you do it more gently? said the Emperor apparently suffering more than the dying soldier, and he rode away.
The campfires crackled and the soldiers' songs resounded even more merrily than on the previous night.
That's the sort of man he is, and nothing more, replied Dolgorukov, looking round at Bilibin with a smile.
If at first the members of the council thought that Kutuzov was pretending to sleep, the sounds his nose emitted during the reading that followed proved that the commander-in-chief at that moment was absorbed by a far more serious matter than a desire to show his contempt for the dispositions or anything else--he was engaged in satisfying the irresistible human need for sleep.
When the reading which lasted more than an hour was over, Langeron again brought his snuffbox to rest and, without looking at Weyrother or at anyone in particular, began to say how difficult it was to carry out such a plan in which the enemy's position was assumed to be known, whereas it was perhaps not known, since the enemy was in movement.
All these memories will be no more, none of them will have any meaning for me.
He readjusted himself in the saddle and touched up his horse to ride once more round his hussars.
And his head once more sank to his horse's neck.
Having descended the hill at a trot, he no longer saw either our own or the enemy's fires, but heard the shouting of the French more loudly and distinctly.
Four more reports followed at intervals, and the bullets passed somewhere in the fog singing in different tones.
Some more! a merry voice was saying in his soul.
But no more shots came.
Every soldier felt glad to know that to the unknown place where he was going, many more of our men were going too.
The fog that was dispersing on the hill lay still more densely below, where they were descending.
In front in the fog a shot was heard and then another, at first irregularly at varying intervals--trata... tat--and then more and more regularly and rapidly, and the action at the Goldbach Stream began.
The marshals, accompanied by adjutants, galloped off in different directions, and a few minutes later the chief forces of the French army moved rapidly toward those Pratzen Heights which were being more and more denuded by Russian troops moving down the valley to their left.
At the Olmutz review he had seemed more majestic; here he seemed brighter and more energetic.
Down below, on the left, the firing became more distinct.
Having by a great effort got away to the left from that flood of men, Kutuzov, with his suite diminished by more than half, rode toward a sound of artillery fire near by.
Bagration knew that as the distance between the two flanks was more than six miles, even if the messenger were not killed (which he very likely would be), and found the commander-in-chief (which would be very difficult), he would not be able to get back before evening.
Rostov heard the thud of their hoofs and the jingle of their weapons and saw their horses, their figures, and even their faces, more and more distinctly.
He could see nothing more, for immediately afterwards cannon began firing from somewhere and smoke enveloped everything.
He said something more, but Rostov did not wait to hear it and rode away.
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.
He urged on his already weary horse to get quickly past these crowds, but the farther he went the more disorganized they were.
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.
Meeting a comrade at the last post station but one before Moscow, Denisov had drunk three bottles of wine with him and, despite the jolting ruts across the snow-covered road, did not once wake up on the way to Moscow, but lay at the bottom of the sleigh beside Rostov, who grew more and more impatient the nearer they got to Moscow.
Today, when he had caught a glimpse of her, she seemed still more lovely.
All Moscow repeated Prince Dolgorukov's saying: "If you go on modeling and modeling you must get smeared with clay," suggesting consolation for our defeat by the memory of former victories; and the words of Rostopchin, that French soldiers have to be incited to battle by highfalutin words, and Germans by logical arguments to show them that it is more dangerous to run away than to advance, but that Russian soldiers only need to be restrained and held back!
He walked shyly and awkwardly over the parquet floor of the reception room, not knowing what to do with his hands; he was more accustomed to walk over a plowed field under fire, as he had done at the head of the Kursk regiment at Schon Grabern--and he would have found that easier.
Everyone rose, feeling that dinner was more important than verses, and Bagration, again preceding all the rest, went in to dinner.
Three hundred persons took their seats in the dining room, according to their rank and importance: the more important nearer to the honored guest, as naturally as water flows deepest where the land lies lowest.
The old count rose once more, glanced at a note lying beside his plate, and proposed a toast, "To the health of the hero of our last campaign, Prince Peter Ivanovich Bagration!" and again his blue eyes grew moist.
As soon as the singing was over, another and another toast was proposed and Count Ilya Rostov became more and more moved, more glass was smashed, and the shouting grew louder.
You know, Count, it is much more honorable to admit one's mistake than to let matters become irreparable.
Helene raised her voice and became more and more excited, "A man who's a better man than you in every way..."
If you were cleverer and more agreeable, I should prefer yours.
Then the voice said something more, Demyan replied, and the steps in the felt boots approached the unseen bend of the staircase more rapidly.
The screaming ceased, and a few more seconds went by.
I love you, and I think I love you more than anyone else....
On the previous Sunday the old count had given his son two thousand rubles, and though he always disliked speaking of money difficulties had told Nicholas that this was all he could let him have till May, and asked him to be more economical this time.
Nicholas had replied that it would be more than enough for him and that he gave his word of honor not to take anything more till the spring.
He had lost more than he could pay.
Come now, just this one more little card!
He tried to say more, but faltered.
Sonya was more tender and devoted to him than ever.
It was as if she wanted to show him that his losses were an achievement that made her love him all the more, but Nicholas now considered himself unworthy of her.
It was plain that he was lying and only wanted to get more money from the traveler.
The servant brought back his tumbler turned upside down, * with an unfinished bit of nibbled sugar, and asked if anything more would be wanted.
* To indicate he did not want more tea.
And again, glancing at the stranger's hands, he looked more closely at the ring, with its skull--a masonic sign.
"I should never dare to say that I know the truth," said the Mason, whose words struck Pierre more and more by their precision and firmness.
And thou art more foolish and unreasonable than a little child, who, playing with the parts of a skillfully made watch, dares to say that, as he does not understand its use, he does not believe in the master who made it.
"One more question, Count," he said, "which I beg you to answer in all sincerity--not as a future Mason but as an honest man: have you renounced your former convictions--do you believe in God?"
To Pierre's inquiries as to what he must do and how he should answer, Willarski only replied that brothers more worthy than he would test him and that Pierre had only to tell the truth.
He felt afraid of what would happen to him and still more afraid of showing his fear.
Hoping to enter on an entirely new life quite unlike the old one, he expected everything to be unusual, even more unusual than what he was seeing.
This chamber with what you see therein should already have suggested to your heart, if it is sincere, more than words could do.
"That passion which more than all others caused you to waver on the path of virtue," said the Mason.
Then the candles were relit and he was told that he would see the full light; the bandage was again removed and more than ten voices said together: "Sic transit gloria mundi."
And really, the feeling of devotion returned to him even more strongly than before.
Pierre himself grew still more confused, blushed like a child till tears came to his eyes, began looking about him uneasily, and an awkward pause followed.
Prince Vasili expressed his opinion more openly.
Boris, grown more manly and looking fresh, rosy and self-possessed, entered the drawing room elegantly dressed in the uniform of an aide-de- camp and was duly conducted to pay his respects to the aunt and then brought back to the general circle.
Anna Pavlovna waited for him to go on, but as he seemed quite decided to say no more she began to tell of how at Potsdam the impious Bonaparte had stolen the sword of Frederick the Great.
He threw the mixture onto the floor and asked for some more water.
Karl Ivanich always says that sleep is more important than anything, whispered Princess Mary with a sigh.
Buxhowden is commander-in-chief by seniority, but General Bennigsen does not quite see it; more particularly as it is he and his corps who are within sight of the enemy and he wishes to profit by the opportunity to fight a battle 'on his own hand' as the Germans say.
At first Prince Andrew read with his eyes only, but after a while, in spite of himself (although he knew how far it was safe to trust Bilibin), what he had read began to interest him more and more.
In the dim shadow of the curtain her luminous eyes shone more brightly than usual from the tears of joy that were in them.
The estates he had not before visited were each more picturesque than the other; the serfs everywhere seemed thriving and touchingly grateful for the benefits conferred on them.
This gratitude reminded him of how much more he might do for these simple, kindly people.
Men always did and always will err, and in nothing more than in what they consider right and wrong.
"You are joking," replied Pierre, growing more and more excited.
Prince Andrew expressed his ideas so clearly and distinctly that it was evident he had reflected on this subject more than once, and he spoke readily and rapidly like a man who has not talked for a long time.
His glance became more animated as his conclusions became more hopeless.
Prince Andrew grew more and more animated.
Pierre was maintaining that a time would come when there would be no more wars.
Drain the blood from men's veins and put in water instead, then there will be no more war!
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 younger ones occupied themselves as before, some playing cards (there was plenty of money, though there was no food), some with more innocent games, such as quoits and skittles.
Rostov lived, as before, with Denisov, and since their furlough they had become more friendly than ever.
I am alone in charge of three hospitals with more than four hundred patients!
It was a little different, more pungent, and one felt that this was where it originated.
"Yes, your honor," the soldier replied complacently, and rolling his eyes more than ever he drew himself up still straighter, but did not move.
Rostov noticed by their faces that all those gentlemen had already heard that story more than once and were tired of it.
Who can be more just, more magnanimous than he?
"We are not diplomatic officials, we are soldiers and nothing more," he went on.
During the dull day, in the course of which he was entertained by his elderly hosts and by the more important of the visitors (the old count's house was crowded on account of an approaching name day), Prince Andrew repeatedly glanced at Natasha, gay and laughing among the younger members of the company, and asked himself each time, What is she thinking about?
"Just once more," said a girlish voice above him which Prince Andrew recognized at once.
This was Speranski, Secretary of State, reporter to the Emperor and his companion at Erfurt, where he had more than once met and talked with Napoleon.
Speranski smiled more markedly.
"If you will do me the honor of calling on me on Wednesday," he added, "I will, after talking with Magnitski, let you know what may interest you, and shall also have the pleasure of a more detailed chat with you."
Had Speranski sprung from the same class as himself and possessed the same breeding and traditions, Bolkonski would soon have discovered his weak, human, unheroic sides; but as it was, Speranski's strange and logical turn of mind inspired him with respect all the more because he did not quite understand him.
Amid the turmoil of his activities and distractions, however, Pierre at the end of a year began to feel that the more firmly he tried to rest upon it, the more masonic ground on which he stood gave way under him.
The novelty of Truth endowed her with special strength, but now we need much more powerful methods.
The Grand Master began answering him, and Pierre began developing his views with more and more warmth.
When she heard of his arrival she almost ran into the drawing room, flushed and beaming with a more than cordial smile.
He looked round more frequently toward her, and broke off in what he was saying.
He did not stay more than ten minutes, then rose and took his leave.
From day to day he became more and more entangled.
"Mamma, your cap, more to this side," said Natasha.
But see, those two, though not good-looking, are even more run after.
No one more charming in society.
More than half the ladies already had partners and were taking up, or preparing to take up, their positions for the polonaise.
Unfortunately she could not grant my request, but I hope, Count, I shall be more fortunate with you, he said with a smile.
(He smiled still more pleasantly.)
This return to the subject of Natalie caused Prince Andrew to knit his brows with discomfort: he was about to rise, but Vera continued with a still more subtle smile:
Then she sighed loudly and, catching her breath more and more quickly, began to sob.
The present feeling, though not so bright and poetic as the former, was stronger and more serious.
He grew still more irritable, and it was Princess Mary who generally bore the brunt of his frequent fits of unprovoked anger.
He has become thinner and more nervous.
The princess was about to reply, but her father would not let her speak and, raising his voice more and more, cried:
Only one thing, no more women are wanted in my house--let him marry and live by himself.
After this outburst the prince did not speak any more about the matter.
And latterly, to her surprise and bewilderment, Princess Mary noticed that her father was really associating more and more with the Frenchwoman.
Her father objected to this because he wanted a more distinguished and wealthier match for Andrew.
She wept quietly, and felt that she was a sinner who loved her father and little nephew more than God.
Sonya was nearly twenty; she had stopped growing prettier and promised nothing more than she was already, but that was enough.
Besides the family, there were eight borzoi kennelmen and more than forty borzois, so that, with the borzois on the leash belonging to members of the family, there were about a hundred and thirty dogs and twenty horsemen.
When they had gone a little less than a mile, five more riders with dogs appeared out of the mist, approaching the Rostovs.
His eyes were rather moist and glittered more than usual, and as he sat in his saddle, wrapped up in his fur coat, he looked like a child taken out for an outing.
The sounds of both packs mingled and broke apart again, but both were becoming more distant.
What sportsmen! and as if scorning to say more to the frightened and shamefaced count, he lashed the heaving flanks of his sweating chestnut gelding with all the anger the count had aroused and flew off after the hounds.
But the wolf jumped up more quickly than anyone could have expected and, gnashing her teeth, flew at the yellowish borzoi, which, with a piercing yelp, fell with its head on the ground, bleeding from a gash in its side.
"Uncle's" huntsman was galloping from the other side across the wolf's path and his borzois once more stopped the animal's advance.
The hare arched his back and bounded off yet more swiftly.
"More, please, more!" cried Natasha at the door as soon as the balalayka ceased.
"More, please, more!" cried Natasha at the door as soon as the balalayka ceased.
Played "Uncle" once more, running his fingers skillfully over the strings, and then he stopped short and jerked his shoulders.
Such were Dimmler the musician and his wife, Vogel the dancing master and his family, Belova, an old maiden lady, an inmate of the house, and many others such as Petya's tutors, the girls' former governess, and other people who simply found it preferable and more advantageous to live in the count's house than at home.
The count moved in his affairs as in a huge net, trying not to believe that he was entangled but becoming more and more so at every step, and feeling too feeble to break the meshes or to set to work carefully and patiently to disentangle them.
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.
It was decided that the count must not go, but that if Louisa Ivanovna (Madame Schoss) would go with them, the young ladies might go to the Melyukovs', Sonya, generally so timid and shy, more urgently than anyone begging Louisa Ivanovna not to refuse.
And really, that evening, Sonya was brighter, more animated, and prettier than Nicholas had ever seen her before.
After Nicholas had gone things in the Rostov household were more depressing than ever, and the countess fell ill from mental agitation.
Sonya was unhappy at the separation from Nicholas and still more so on account of the hostile tone the countess could not help adopting toward her.
The count was more perturbed than ever by the condition of his affairs, which called for some decisive action.
Natasha, who had borne the first period of separation from her betrothed lightly and even cheerfully, now grew more agitated and impatient every day.
The more interesting his letters were the more vexed she felt.
He ceased keeping a diary, avoided the company of the Brothers, began going to the club again, drank a great deal, and came once more in touch with the bachelor sets, leading such a life that the Countess Helene thought it necessary to speak severely to him about it.
Drinking became more and more a physical and also a moral necessity.
Sometimes he remembered how he had heard that soldiers in war when entrenched under the enemy's fire, if they have nothing to do, try hard to find some occupation the more easily to bear the danger.
I cannot endure any more, he said, and left the room.
The prince's house did not belong to what is known as fashionable society, but his little circle--though not much talked about in town-- was one it was more flattering to be received in than any other.
Princess Mary seemed even quieter and more diffident than usual.
Prince Nicholas grew more animated and expressed his views on the impending war.
She was by now decidedly plain, but thought herself not merely as good-looking as before but even far more attractive.
Boris read 'Poor Liza' aloud to her, and more than once interrupted the reading because of the emotions that choked him.
There was no need to say more: Julie's face shone with triumph and self- satisfaction; but she forced Boris to say all that is said on such occasions--that he loved her and had never loved any other woman more than her.
The cymbals and horns in the orchestra struck up more loudly, and this man with bare legs jumped very high and waved his feet about very rapidly.
Kuragin was much more sensible and simple with women than among men.
Natasha did not understand what he was saying any more than he did himself, but she felt that his incomprehensible words had an improper intention.
More than once he had vexed his father by spoiling his own career, and he laughed at distinctions of all kinds.
She suffered more now than during her first days in Moscow.
What more could she write after all that had happened the evening before?
At that party Natasha again met Anatole, and Sonya noticed that she spoke to him, trying not to be overheard, and that all through dinner she was more agitated than ever.
The more emotional and ingratiating the expression of Natasha's face became, the more serious and stern grew Sonya's.
Sonya began watching her friend still more attentively and noticed that at dinner and all that evening Natasha was in a strange and unnatural state.
More than once when Anatole's regiment was stationed at Tver he had taken him from Tver in the evening, brought him to Moscow by daybreak, and driven him back again the next night.
More than once he had enabled Dolokhov to escape when pursued.
More than once he had driven them through the town with gypsies and "ladykins" as he called the cocottes.
He had ruined more than one horse in their service.
More than once they had beaten him, and more than once they had made him drunk on champagne and Madeira, which he loved; and he knew more than one thing about each of them which would long ago have sent an ordinary man to Siberia.
More than once they had beaten him, and more than once they had made him drunk on champagne and Madeira, which he loved; and he knew more than one thing about each of them which would long ago have sent an ordinary man to Siberia.
In their service he risked his skin and his life twenty times a year, and in their service had lost more horses than the money he had from them would buy.
He liked giving a painful lash on the neck to some peasant who, more dead than alive, was already hurrying out of his way.
Why, she'll rush out more dead than alive just in the things she is wearing; if you delay at all there'll be tears and 'Papa' and 'Mamma,' and she's frozen in a minute and must go back--but you wrap the fur cloak round her first thing and carry her to the sleigh.
But still he pitied Prince Andrew to the point of tears and sympathized with his wounded pride, and the more he pitied his friend the more did he think with contempt and even with disgust of that Natasha who had just passed him in the ballroom with such a look of cold dignity.
Pierre without greeting his wife whom he had not seen since his return-- at that moment she was more repulsive to him than ever--entered the drawing room and seeing Anatole went up to him.
"I don't know about that, eh?" said Anatole, growing more confident as Pierre mastered his wrath.
Prince Andrew, as if trying to remember whether he had something more to say, or waiting to see if Pierre would say anything, looked fixedly at him.
She stopped and breathed still more quickly, but did not shed tears.
"I will tell him, I will tell him everything once more," said Pierre.
"We won't speak of it any more, my dear," said Pierre, and his gentle, cordial tone suddenly seemed very strange to Natasha.
He knew he had something more to say to her.
The more we try to explain such events in history reasonably, the more unreasonable and incomprehensible do they become to us.
The higher a man stands on the social ladder, the more people he is connected with and the more power he has over others, the more evident is the predestination and inevitability of his every action.
He became still more absorbed in his task when the Russian general entered, and after glancing over his spectacles at Balashev's face, which was animated by the beauty of the morning and by his talk with Murat, he did not rise or even stir, but scowled still more and sneered malevolently.
Without moving from where he stood he began speaking in a louder tone and more hurriedly than before.
During the speech that followed, Balashev, who more than once lowered his eyes, involuntarily noticed the quivering of Napoleon's left leg which increased the more Napoleon raised his voice.
But he had begun talking, and the more he talked the less could he control his words.
And receiving the reply that there were more than two hundred churches, he remarked:
Napoleon was in that well-known after-dinner mood which, more than any reasoned cause, makes a man contented with himself and disposed to consider everyone his friend.
He was now concerned only with the nearest practical matters unrelated to his past interests, and he seized on these the more eagerly the more those past interests were closed to him.
She had merely become more self-confident, Prince Andrew thought.
What meant still more to him was that he sought and did not find in himself the former tenderness for his son which he had hoped to reawaken by caressing the boy and taking him on his knee.
With Pfuel was Wolzogen, who expressed Pfuel's thoughts in a more comprehensible way than Pfuel himself (who was a harsh, bookish theorist, self-confident to the point of despising everyone else) was able to do.
The more mistakes that are made the better.
There was about him something of Weyrother, Mack, and Schmidt, and many other German theorist-generals whom Prince Andrew had seen in 1805, but he was more typical than any of them.
Young Count Toll objected to the Swedish general's views more warmly than anyone else, and in the course of the dispute drew from his side pocket a well-filled notebook, which he asked permission to read to them.
Well, of course, what more is there to explain?
"I can't stand this any more," said Ilyin, noticing that Rostov did not relish Zdrzhinski's conversation.
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.
The soldiers' faces were more and more clearly visible.
The sounds, which he had not heard for so long, had an even more pleasurable and exhilarating effect on Rostov than the previous sounds of firing.
"So others are even more afraid than I am!" he thought.
The doctors were of use to Natasha because they kissed and rubbed her bump, assuring her that it would soon pass if only the coachman went to the chemist's in the Arbat and got a powder and some pills in a pretty box for a ruble and seventy kopeks, and if she took those powders in boiled water at intervals of precisely two hours, neither more nor less.
She said and felt at that time that no man was more to her than Nastasya Ivanovna, the buffoon.
With a sinking heart, wretched as she always was now when she found herself in a crowd, Natasha in her lilac silk dress trimmed with black lace walked- -as women can walk--with the more repose and stateliness the greater the pain and shame in her soul.
On the contrary it tormented her more than anything else of late, and particularly so on this bright, hot summer day in town.
But latterly, when more and more disquieting reports came from the seat of war and Natasha's health began to improve and she no longer aroused in him the former feeling of careful pity, an ever- increasing restlessness, which he could not explain, took possession of him.
He wrote the words L'Empereur Alexandre, La nation russe and added up their numbers, but the sums were either more or less than 666.
Natasha's unwontedly brilliant eyes, continually glancing at him with a more than cordial look, had reduced him to this condition.
But the farther he went and the more his attention was diverted by the ever-increasing crowds moving toward the Kremlin, the less he remembered to walk with the sedateness and deliberation of a man.
The crowd spread out again more evenly, and the clerk led Petya--pale and breathless--to the Tsar-cannon.
The firing was still proceeding when officers, generals, and gentlemen-in-waiting came running out of the cathedral, and after them others in a more leisurely manner: caps were again raised, and those who had run to look at the cannon ran back again.
Petya's eyes grew bloodshot, and still more excited by the danger of being crushed, he rushed at the biscuits.
Heat and drought had continued for more than three weeks.
If he reports that our losses were great, it is not true; perhaps about four thousand, not more, and not even that; but even were they ten thousand, that's war!
He is said to be more Napoleon's man than ours, and he is always advising the Minister.
Consider that on our retreat we have lost by fatigue and left in the hospital more than fifteen thousand men, and had we attacked this would not have happened.
How much more complex than this is the game of war, which occurs under certain limits of time, and where it is not one will that manipulates lifeless objects, but everything results from innumerable conflicts of various wills!
It was becoming more and more dangerous to remain at Bald Hills, and next day they moved the prince to Bogucharovo, the doctor accompanying him.
"Always thoughts... about you... thoughts..." he then uttered much more clearly than he had done before, now that he was sure of being understood.
The peasants feared him more than they did their master.
If you think something more is wanted, tell me!
I remember how he began speaking to him about Lise as if she were alive--he had forgotten she was dead--and Tikhon reminded him that she was no more, and he shouted, 'Fool!'
And the nearer he drew to it the more Alpatych felt that this unreasonable action might produce good results.
And in fact two more peasants began binding Dron, who took off his own belt and handed it to them, as if to aid them.
On the rest of the way to Moscow, though the princess' position was not a cheerful one, Dunyasha, who went with her in the carriage, more than once noticed that her mistress leaned out of the window and smiled at something with an expression of mingled joy and sorrow.
It made him angry just because the idea of marrying the gentle Princess Mary, who was attractive to him and had an enormous fortune, had against his will more than once entered his head.
In the midst of his explanation shouts were heard from the army, growing more incoherent and more diffused, mingling with music and songs and coming from the field where the review was held.
Since Prince Andrew had last seen him Kutuzov had grown still more corpulent, flaccid, and fat.
But at that moment Denisov, no more intimidated by his superiors than by the enemy, came with jingling spurs up the steps of the porch, despite the angry whispers of the adjutants who tried to stop him.
"Well, that's all!" said Kutuzov as he signed the last of the documents, and rising heavily and smoothing out the folds in his fat white neck he moved toward the door with a more cheerful expression.
Everything in haste, but more haste, less speed.
Kamenski sent soldiers to Rustchuk, but I only employed these two things and took more fortresses than Kamenski and made them Turks eat horseflesh!
The more he realized the absence of all personal motive in that old man--in whom there seemed to remain only the habit of passions, and in place of an intellect (grouping events and drawing conclusions) only the capacity calmly to contemplate the course of events--the more reassured he was that everything would be as it should.
It was said that Mamonov's regiment would cost him eight hundred thousand rubles, and that Bezukhov had spent even more on his, but that the best thing about Bezukhov's action was that he himself was going to don a uniform and ride at the head of his regiment without charging anything for the show.
Let me have some more strips of linen.
I know you were friendly with Natalie, and so... but I was always more friendly with Vera--that dear Vera.
The worse everything became, especially his own affairs, the better was Pierre pleased and the more evident was it that the catastrophe he expected was approaching.
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.
Before the battle of Borodino our strength in proportion to the French was about as five to six, but after that battle it was little more than one to two: previously we had a hundred thousand against a hundred and twenty thousand; afterwards little more than fifty thousand against a hundred thousand.
Why was it more strongly fortified than any other post?
By crossing to the other side of the Kolocha to the left of the highroad, Napoleon shifted the whole forthcoming battle from right to left (looking from the Russian side) and transferred it to the plain between Utitsa, Semenovsk, and Borodino--a plain no more advantageous as a position than any other plain in Russia--and there the whole battle of the twenty-sixth of August took place.
In that case we should probably have defended the Shevardino Redoubt--our left flank-- still more obstinately.
On seeing these peasants, who were evidently still amused by the novelty of their position as soldiers, Pierre once more thought of the wounded men at Mozhaysk and understood what the soldier had meant when he said: "They want the whole nation to fall on them."
Kutuzov repeated, his laughing eye narrowing more and more as he looked at Pierre.
He did not know that it would become more memorable to him than any other spot on the plain of Borodino.
He had received and given the orders for next day's battle and had nothing more to do.
As he said this his eyes and face expressed more than coldness--they expressed hostility, which Pierre noticed at once.
"Well, then, you know more than anyone else, be it who it may," said Prince Andrew.
They slander him as a traitor, and the only result will be that afterwards, ashamed of their false accusations, they will make him out a hero or a genius instead of a traitor, and that will be still more unjust.
For me tomorrow means this: a Russian army of a hundred thousand and a French army of a hundred thousand have met to fight, and the thing is that these two hundred thousand men will fight and the side that fights more fiercely and spares itself least will win.
That part of the line was not entrenched and in front of it the ground was more open and level than elsewhere.
Let life go on in it unhindered and let it defend itself, it will do more than if you paralyze it by encumbering it with remedies.
The first shots had not yet ceased to reverberate before others rang out and yet more were heard mingling with and overtaking one another.
The roar of guns sounded more distinct outside.
The booming cannonade and the fusillade of musketry were growing more intense over the whole field, especially to the left where Bagration's fleches were, but where Pierre was the smoke of the firing made it almost impossible to distinguish anything.
Pierre did not look out at the battlefield and was not concerned to know what was happening there; he was entirely absorbed in watching this fire which burned ever more brightly and which he felt was flaming up in the same way in his own soul.
Projectiles began to fall still more frequently in the battery.
Around the cannon the men moved still more briskly and busily.
The young officer, with his face still more flushed, commanded the men more scrupulously than ever.
The sergeant ran up to the officer and in a frightened whisper informed him (as a butler at dinner informs his master that there is no more of some wine asked for) that there were no more charges.
Napoleon was experiencing a feeling of depression like that of an ever- lucky gambler who, after recklessly flinging money about and always winning, suddenly just when he has calculated all the chances of the game, finds that the more he considers his play the more surely he loses.
Soon after the duke's departure--before he could possibly have reached Semenovsk--his adjutant came back from him and told Kutuzov that the duke asked for more troops.
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.
Around the tents, over more than five acres, bloodstained men in various garbs stood, sat, or lay.
"They want more!..." said Napoleon in a hoarse voice.
"They want more!" croaked Napoleon frowning.
The French invaders, like an infuriated animal that has in its onslaught received a mortal wound, felt that they were perishing, but could not stop, any more than the Russian army, weaker by one half, could help swerving.
A modern branch of mathematics having achieved the art of dealing with the infinitely small can now yield solutions in other more complex problems of motion which used to appear insoluble.
The more the Russian army retreated the more fiercely a spirit of hatred of the enemy flared up, and while it retreated the army increased and consolidated.
And the troops retired one more, last, day's march, and abandoned Moscow to the enemy.
Kutuzov's expression grew more and more preoccupied and gloomy.
The discussion recommenced, but pauses frequently occurred and they all felt that there was no more to be said.
At that very time, in circumstances even more important than retreating without a battle, namely the evacuation and burning of Moscow, Rostopchin, who is usually represented as being the instigator of that event, acted in an altogether different manner from Kutuzov.
Helene was touched, and more than once tears rose to her eyes and to those of Monsieur de Jobert and their voices trembled.
Pierre sat down by the fire and began eating the mash, as they called the food in the cauldron, and he thought it more delicious than any food he had ever tasted.
"Thank God, there is no more of that!" he thought, covering up his head again.
One second more and I should have understood it all!
Pierre did not answer and left Rostopchin's room more sullen and angry than he had ever before shown himself.
The nearer the time came for Petya to return, the more uneasy grew the countess.
You would be more comfortable somewhere in a house... in ours, for instance... the family are leaving.
There was also much china standing on the tables, and still more was being brought in from the storeroom.
"We can take four more men," said the steward.
But the coachman could not stop, for from the Meshchanski Street came more carts and carriages, and the Rostovs were being shouted at to move on and not block the way.
More than two hours passed and Gerasim took the liberty of making a slight noise at the door to attract his attention, but Pierre did not hear him.
Do they think we're dogs? voices in the crowd were heard saying more and more frequently.
When, awakened from his sleep, he received that cold, peremptory note from Kutuzov, he felt the more irritated the more he felt himself to blame.
Toward nine o'clock in the morning, when the troops were already moving through Moscow, nobody came to the count any more for instructions.
Even now he felt clearly that the gory trace of that recollection would not pass with time, but that the terrible memory would, on the contrary, dwell in his heart ever more cruelly and painfully to the end of his life.
He told Kutuzov that he had come because Moscow, the capital, was no more and only the army remained.
The sound of three more shots came from the gate.
"Fire!" repeated the officer once more, and the reports of a musket and of two cannon shots were heard simultaneously.
Nothing more stirred behind the screens and the French infantry soldiers and officers advanced to the gate.
Then during the first day spent in inaction and solitude (he tried several times to fix his attention on the masonic manuscripts, but was unable to do so) the idea that had previously occurred to him of the cabalistic significance of his name in connection with Bonaparte's more than once vaguely presented itself.
"Master, not here--don't understand... me, you..." said Gerasim, trying to render his words more comprehensible by contorting them.
The satisfaction of his hunger and the wine rendered the captain still more lively and he chatted incessantly all through dinner.
More than anything else in Pierre's story the captain was impressed by the fact that Pierre was very rich, had two mansions in Moscow, and that he had abandoned everything and not left the city, but remained there concealing his name and station.
"There now, how good it is, what more does one need?" thought he.
It's more to the left, why, Little Mytishchi is over there, and this is right on the other side.
Through the open window the moans of the adjutant could be heard more distinctly.
She did not know why she had to, she knew the meeting would be painful, but felt the more convinced that it was necessary.
All the powers of his mind were more active and clearer than ever, but they acted apart from his will.
"Forgive me for what I ha-ve do-ne!" faltered Natasha in a scarcely audible, broken whisper, and began kissing his hand more rapidly, just touching it with her lips.
"I love you more, better than before," said Prince Andrew, lifting her face with his hand so as to look into her eyes.
Natasha's thin pale face, with its swollen lips, was more than plain--it was dreadful.
He met more people in the streets and they were more excited.
Glowing with the heat and from running, he felt at that moment more strongly than ever the sense of youth, animation, and determination that had come on him when he ran to save the child.
His face probably looked very terrible, for the officer said something in a whisper and four more uhlans left the ranks and placed themselves on both sides of Pierre.
After marching through a number of streets the patrol arrested five more Russian suspects: a small shopkeeper, two seminary students, a peasant, and a house serf, besides several looters.
He knew no more than the others what his words meant.
During his diplomatic career he had more than once noticed that such utterances were received as very witty, and at every opportunity he uttered in that way the first words that entered his head.
The more closely a man was engaged in the events then taking place in Russia the less did he realize their significance.
Now, after a month passed in quiet surroundings, she felt more and more deeply the loss of her father which was associated in her mind with the ruin of Russia.
More than anything she feared lest the confusion she felt might overwhelm her and betray her as soon as she saw him.
But he also knew (or rather felt at the bottom of his heart) that by resigning himself now to the force of circumstances and to those who were guiding him, he was not only doing nothing wrong, but was doing something very important--more important than anything he had ever done in his life.
The dreadful news of the battle of Borodino, of our losses in killed and wounded, and the still more terrible news of the loss of Moscow reached Voronezh in the middle of September.
In this letter the countess also mentioned that Prince Andrew was among the wounded traveling with them; his state was very critical, but the doctor said there was now more hope.
Sonya's letter written from Troitsa, which had come as an answer to Nicholas' prayer, was prompted by this: the thought of getting Nicholas married to an heiress occupied the old countess' mind more and more.
Two more prisoners were led up.
When they began to blindfold him he himself adjusted the knot which hurt the back of his head; then when they propped him against the bloodstained post, he leaned back and, not being comfortable in that position, straightened himself, adjusted his feet, and leaned back again more comfortably.
But as soon as he closed them he saw before him the dreadful face of the factory lad-- especially dreadful because of its simplicity--and the faces of the murderers, even more dreadful because of their disquiet.
Natasha's face and eyes would have to tell her all more clearly and profoundly.
She did not speak any more to Natasha of hopes of saving his life.
And the more imbued he became with that principle of love, the more he renounced life and the more completely he destroyed that dreadful barrier which--in the absence of such love-- stands between life and death.
I love her more than anything in the world!
More than anything in the world.
Prince Andrew dimly realized that all this was trivial and that he had more important cares, but he continued to speak, surprising them by empty witticisms.
The army turned more to the south, along the Ryazan road and nearer to its supplies.
Having crossed over, by a forced march, to the Tula road beyond the Pakhra, the Russian commanders intended to remain at Podolsk and had no thought of the Tarutino position; but innumerable circumstances and the reappearance of French troops who had for a time lost touch with the Russians, and projects of giving battle, and above all the abundance of provisions in Kaluga province, obliged our army to turn still more to the south and to cross from the Tula to the Kaluga road and go to Tarutino, which was between the roads along which those supplies lay.
As a result of the hostility between Kutuzov and Bennigsen, his Chief of Staff, the presence of confidential representatives of the Emperor, and these transfers, a more than usually complicated play of parties was going on among the staff of the army.
And once more Kutuzov had to consent.
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.
It would be difficult and even impossible to imagine any result more opportune than the actual outcome of this battle.
Of all that Napoleon might have done: wintering in Moscow, advancing on Petersburg or on Nizhni-Novgorod, or retiring by a more northerly or more southerly route (say by the road Kutuzov afterwards took), nothing more stupid or disastrous can be imagined than what he actually did.
In both cases his personal activity, having no more force than the personal activity of any soldier, merely coincided with the laws that guided the event.
Among the Old Guard disorder and pillage were renewed more violently than ever yesterday evening, last night, and today.
They advanced the few hundred paces that separated the bridge from the Kaluga road, taking more than an hour to do so, and came out upon the square where the streets of the Transmoskva ward and the Kaluga road converge, and the prisoners jammed close together had to stand for some hours at that crossway.
Behind them came more carts, soldiers, wagons, soldiers, gun carriages, carriages, soldiers, ammunition carts, more soldiers, and now and then women.
This spite increased still more when, on calling over the roll of prisoners, it was found that in the bustle of leaving Moscow one Russian soldier, who had pretended to suffer from colic, had escaped.
Since Bennigsen, who corresponded with the Emperor and had more influence than anyone else on the staff, had begun to avoid him, Kutuzov was more at ease as to the possibility of himself and his troops being obliged to take part in useless aggressive movements.
But in any case proofs were needed; he had waited a whole month for them and grew more impatient the longer he waited.
The longer he thought the more contingencies presented themselves.
And the more he desired it the less he allowed himself to believe it.
Each of them desired nothing more than to give himself up as a prisoner to escape from all this horror and misery; but on the one hand the force of this common attraction to Smolensk, their goal, drew each of them in the same direction; on the other hand an army corps could not surrender to a company, and though the French availed themselves of every convenient opportunity to detach themselves and to surrender on the slightest decent pretext, such pretexts did not always occur.
On the contrary the greater the heat the more solidified the remaining snow becomes.
Military science says that the more troops the greater the strength.
To lead men forward under fire more discipline (obtainable only by movement in masses) is needed than is needed to resist attacks.
The further the campaign progressed the more numerous these detachments became.
To the left of the road between Mikulino and Shamshevo there were large forests, extending in some places up to the road itself though in others a mile or more back from it.
In their rear, more than a mile from Mikulino where the forest came right up to the road, six Cossacks were posted to report if any fresh columns of French should show themselves.
Denisov had two hundred, and Dolokhov might have as many more, but the disparity of numbers did not deter Denisov.
In the village, in the house, in the garden, by the well, by the pond, over all the rising ground, and all along the road uphill from the bridge leading to the village, not more than five hundred yards away, crowds of men could be seen through the shimmering mist.
We must ride round more to the left....
No one found more opportunities for attacking, no one captured or killed more Frenchmen, and consequently he was made the buffoon of all the Cossacks and hussars and willingly accepted that role.
Petya had heard in the army many stories of Dolokhov's extraordinary bravery and of his cruelty to the French, so from the moment he entered the hut Petya did not take his eyes from him, but braced himself up more and more and held his head high, that he might not be unworthy even of such company.
Petya was as musical as Natasha and more so than Nicholas, but had never learned music or thought about it, and so the melody that unexpectedly came to his mind seemed to him particularly fresh and attractive.
The music became more and more audible.
Now fuller, more joyful.
Still more and more joyful!
In an instant the tramp of horses galloping forward was heard, shouts came from various sides, and then more shots.
The prisoners were more burdensome to the escort than even the cavalry saddles or Junot's baggage.
After the second day's march Pierre, having examined his feet by the campfire, thought it would be impossible to walk on them; but when everybody got up he went along, limping, and, when he had warmed up, walked without feeling the pain, though at night his feet were more terrible to look at than before.
He did not see and did not hear how they shot the prisoners who lagged behind, though more than a hundred perished in that way.
The harder his position became and the more terrible the future, the more independent of that position in which he found himself were the joyful and comforting thoughts, memories, and imaginings that came to him.
"And so, brother" (it was at this point that Pierre came up), "ten years or more passed by.
Harder and more blessed than all else is to love this life in one's sufferings, in innocent sufferings.
Looking more closely Pierre recognized the blue-gray dog, sitting beside the soldier, wagging its tail.
From Moscow to Vyazma the French army of seventy-three thousand men not reckoning the Guards (who did nothing during the whole war but pillage) was reduced to thirty-six thousand, though not more than five thousand had fallen in battle.
Beyond Smolensk there were several different roads available for the French, and one would have thought that during their stay of four days they might have learned where the enemy was, might have arranged some more advantageous plan and undertaken something new.
Still more carefully did they avoid anything relating to him who was dead.
And that other side of life, of which she had never before thought and which had formerly seemed to her so far away and improbable, was now nearer and more akin and more comprehensible than this side of life, where everything was either emptiness and desolation or suffering and indignity.
"You have improved in looks and grown more manly," continued the countess, taking her daughter's hand.
Together they felt more in harmony with one another than either of them felt with herself when alone.
Still more difficult would it be to find an instance in history of the aim of an historical personage being so completely accomplished as that to which all Kutuzov's efforts were directed in 1812.
The lower stakes cracked more and more and at last the wall fell, and with it the men who had been pushing it.
On the contrary, the army had never under the best material conditions presented a more cheerful and animated aspect.
More men collected behind the wattle fence of the Eighth Company than anywhere else.
Fetch some more wood! shouted a red-haired and red-faced man, screwing up his eyes and blinking because of the smoke but not moving back from the fire.
The soldier said no more and the talk went on.
They were no more than make-believes.
We shall want some more wood.
Do you want some more to eat?
They gave him some more porridge and Morel with a laugh set to work on his third bowl.
Anticipation that the failure of the Petersburg Berezina plan would be attributed to Kutuzov led to dissatisfaction, contempt, and ridicule, more and more strongly expressed.
That same day he had learned that Prince Andrew, after surviving the battle of Borodino for more than a month had recently died in the Rostovs' house at Yaroslavl, and Denisov who told him this news also mentioned Helene's death, supposing that Pierre had heard of it long before.
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 the first plunderers were followed by a second and a third contingent, and with increasing numbers plundering became more and more difficult and assumed more definite forms.
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.
The more the plundering by the French continued, the more both the wealth of Moscow and the strength of its plunderers was destroyed.
But plundering by the Russians, with which the reoccupation of the city began, had an opposite effect: the longer it continued and the greater the number of people taking part in it the more rapidly was the wealth of the city and its regular life restored.
Again the princess glanced round at her companion with even more uneasiness in her manner and was about to add something, but Pierre interrupted her.
Pierre looked again at the companion's pale, delicate face with its black eyes and peculiar mouth, and something near to him, long forgotten and more than sweet, looked at him from those attentive eyes.
But the more he tried to hide it the more clearly--clearer than any words could have done--did he betray to himself, to her, and to Princess Mary that he loved her.
He felt that there was now a judge of his every word and action whose judgment mattered more to him than that of all the rest of the world.
Natasha continued to look at him intently with bright, attentive, and animated eyes, as if trying to understand something more which he had perhaps left untold.
"Yes, and nothing more," said Natasha.
The princess seemed to see nothing more extraordinary in that than if he had seen Anna Semenovna.
She spoke little of Pierre, but when Princess Mary mentioned him a long-extinguished light once more kindled in her eyes and her lips curved with a strange smile.
Whether the preservation of my father's house in Moscow, or the glory of the Russian arms, or the prosperity of the Petersburg and other universities, or the freedom of Poland or the greatness of Russia, or the balance of power in Europe, or a certain kind of European culture called "progress" appear to me to be good or bad, I must admit that besides these things the action of every historic character has other more general purposes inaccessible to me.
But the once proud and shrewd rulers of France, feeling that their part is played out, are even more bewildered than he, and do not say the words they should have said to destroy him and retain their power.
Chance puts the Duc d'Enghien in his hands and unexpectedly causes him to kill him--thereby convincing the mob more forcibly than in any other way that he had the right, since he had the might.
The higher the human intellect rises in the discovery of these purposes, the more obvious it becomes, that the ultimate purpose is beyond our comprehension.
He felt that the more he valued her the less he loved her.
Well, I have asked you, and now I won't interfere any more since you have secrets from your mother.
The buildings, begun under straitened circumstances, were more than simple.
She knew her remarks sounded unnatural, but could not refrain from asking some more questions.
Her features were more defined and had a calm, soft, and serene expression.
At the rare moments when the old fire did kindle in her handsome, fully developed body she was even more attractive than in former days.
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.
Natasha did not care for society in general, but prized the more the society of her relatives--Countess Mary, and her brother, her mother, and Sonya.
It was more than true.
While attending to him she bore the anxiety about her husband more easily.
The grown-up members of the family, not to mention his wife, were pleased to have back a friend whose presence made life run more smoothly and peacefully.
But those glances expressed something more: they said that she had played her part in life, that what they now saw was not her whole self, that we must all become like her, and that they were glad to yield to her, to restrain themselves for this once precious being formerly as full of life as themselves, but now so much to be pitied.
At tea all sat in their accustomed places: Nicholas beside the stove at a small table where his tea was handed to him; Milka, the old gray borzoi bitch (daughter of the first Milka), with a quite gray face and large black eyes that seemed more prominent than ever, lay on the armchair beside him; Denisov, whose curly hair, mustache, and whiskers had turned half gray, sat beside countess Mary with his general's tunic unbuttoned; Pierre sat between his wife and the old countess.
Why more than ever!
I used to meet him at Mary Antonovna's," said the countess in an offended tone; and still more offended that they all remained silent, she went on: "Nowadays everyone finds fault.
When I was driving here today, the nearer I got to the house the more anxious I grew.
Nicholas and Denisov rose, asked for their pipes, smoked, went to fetch more tea from Sonya--who sat weary but resolute at the samovar--and questioned Pierre.
The boy with the thin neck stretching out from the turn-down collar-- whom everyone had forgotten--gazed at Pierre with even greater and more rapturous joy.
Pierre smiled, Natasha began to laugh, but Nicholas knitted his brows still more and began proving to Pierre that there was no prospect of any great change and that all the danger he spoke of existed only in his imagination.
Pierre maintained the contrary, and as his mental faculties were greater and more resourceful, Nicholas felt himself cornered.
He was proud of her intelligence and goodness, recognized his own insignificance beside her in the spiritual world, and rejoiced all the more that she with such a soul not only belonged to him but was part of himself.
And one couldn't love more, but this is something special....
"Oh nothing, only a trifle," said Natasha, smilingly still more brightly.
But not to speak of the intrinsic quality of histories of this kind (which may possibly even be of use to someone for something) the histories of culture, to which all general histories tend more and more to approximate, are significant from the fact that after seriously and minutely examining various religious, philosophic, and political doctrines as causes of events, as soon as they have to describe an actual historic event such as the campaign of 1812 for instance, they involuntarily describe it as resulting from an exercise of power--and say plainly that that was the result of Napoleon's will.
Men uniting in these combinations always assume such relations toward one another that the larger number take a more direct share, and the smaller number a less direct share, in the collective action for which they have combined.
An officer still less often acts directly himself, but commands still more frequently.
The man who worked most with his hands could not think so much about what he was doing, or reflect on or command what would result from the common activity; while the man who commanded more would evidently work less with his hands on account of his greater verbal activity.
(1) Power is the relation of a given person to other individuals, in which the more this person expresses opinions, predictions, and justifications of the collective action that is performed, the less is his participation in that action.
A sinking man who clutches at another and drowns him; or a hungry mother exhausted by feeding her baby, who steals some food; or a man trained to discipline who on duty at the word of command kills a defenseless man-- seem less guilty, that is, less free and more subject to the law of necessity, to one who knows the circumstances in which these people were placed, and more free to one who does not know that the man was himself drowning, that the mother was hungry, that the soldier was in the ranks, and so on.
Similarly a man who committed a murder twenty years ago and has since lived peaceably and harmlessly in society seems less guilty and his action more due to the law of inevitability, to someone who considers his action after twenty years have elapsed than to one who examined it the day after it was committed.
The farther I go back in memory, or what is the same thing the farther I go forward in my judgment, the more doubtful becomes my belief in the freedom of my action.
The farther back in history the object of our observation lies, the more doubtful does the free will of those concerned in the event become and the more manifest the law of inevitability.
If we have a large range of examples, if our observation is constantly directed to seeking the correlation of cause and effect in people's actions, their actions appear to us more under compulsion and less free the more correctly we connect the effects with the causes.
The more this field of motion spreads out before our eyes, the more evident are the laws of that movement.
Alondra was attractive in a delicate way - her features more refined.
But it isn't more comfortable.
The wooden banisters were polished to a high finish, and the hardwood stairs were covered on the walkway with more carpet.
More people she wouldn't know.
"Will there be any more Rains?" asked the man with the star.
"That's all right," returned the man's voice, more pleasantly than before.
I'll get my spy-glass, and then you can see it more plainly.
These were motionless at first, but soon began to flicker more brightly and to sway slowly from side to side and then up and down.
There was more applause at this, and then Ozma had the jewelled saddle replaced upon the Sawhorse and herself rode the victor back to the city at the head of the grand procession.
Take me back, and I will give you no more trouble.
He looked more closely and saw that it was an ant.
But at a certain point, you don't need any more, and the technology is mature.
Many incidents of those early years are fixed in my memory, isolated, but clear and distinct, making the sense of that silent, aimless, dayless life all the more intense.
She had a cradle, and I often spent an hour or more rocking her.
Curiously enough, the absence of eyes struck me more than all the other defects put together.
Perhaps these pages are more particularly addressed to poor students.
But on the road, the highroad along which the troops marched, there was no such freshness even at night or when the road passed through the forest; the dew was imperceptible on the sandy dust churned up more than six inches deep.
Pierre, however, felt excited, and the general desire to show that they were ready to go to all lengths--which found expression in the tones and looks more than in the substance of the speeches--infected him too.
The whole consultation passed more than quietly.
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.
He left in order not to obstruct the commander-in-chief's undivided control of the army, and hoping that more decisive action would then be taken, but the command of the armies became still more confused and enfeebled.
At these words Alpatych nodded as if in approval, and not wishing to hear more went to the door of the room opposite the innkeeper's, where he had left his purchases.
Once more something whistled, but this time quite close, swooping downwards like a little bird; a flame flashed in the middle of the street, something exploded, and the street was shrouded in smoke.
The nobility don't gwudge theah lives--evewy one of us will go and bwing in more wecwuits, and the sov'weign" (that was the way he referred to the Emperor) "need only say the word and we'll all die fo' him!" added the orator with animation.
"I only said that it would be more to the purpose to make sacrifices when we know what is needed!" said he, trying to be heard above the other voices.
If anything more is wanted I'll send after you.