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Mr Dombey in the meantime stood bolt upright in the carriage like a highly respectable ghost, [...].

In a school carried on by sheer cruelty, whether it is presided over by a dunce or not, there is not likely to be much learnt.

¿Qué es posia? -dices mientras clavas
En mi pupila tu pupila azul -.
¿Qué es poesía? ¿Y tú me lo preguntas?
Poesía... eres tú.

Tu pupila es azul, y cuando ríes,
Su claridad suave me recuerda
El trémulo fulgor de la mañana
Que en el mar se refleja.

Då folket såg at Moses drygde med å koma ned frå fjellet, flokka dei seg om Aron og sa til han: «Kom og lag ein gud til oss som kan gå føre oss! For vi veit ikkje kva som har hendt med denne Moses, mannen som førte oss opp frå Egypt.» Aron sa til dei: «Ta gullringane av øyra på konene, sønene og døtrene dykkar og kom med dei til meg!» Då tok heile folket av seg gullringane som dei hadde i øyra, og kom til Aron med dei. Han tok imot gullet, forma det med meisel og støypte ein kalv. Så ropa dei: «Dette er guden din, Israel, han som førte deg opp frå Egypt!» Då Aron såg det, bygde han eit altar framfor kalven og ropa ut: «I morgon er det fest for Herren!» Dagen etter stod folket tidleg opp og ofra brennoffer og bar fram fredsoffer. Dei sette seg ned for å eta og drikka, og så byrja dei å mora seg.

(2 Mos 32,1-6)

Hvilke karaktertrekk rikdom fører til, er lett å se. De rike er nemlig frekke og hovmodige, for ervervelsen av rikdom gjør noe med dem. Det er forestillingen om at de har all verdens goder som gjør noe med dem. Rikdom er som en målestokk for verdien av alle andre ting, og ved hjelp av den synes derfor alle ting å kunne kjøpes. [...] Kort sagt er rikdommens virkning på karakteren at man blir en velstående dåre. Nå er det en forskjell i karakter mellom de som som nylig er kommet til velstand og de som er blitt rike gjennom arv. Det er nemlig helst de nyrike som har alle disse negative trekkene, og de mest usympatiske; for å være nyrik er på et vis å ha rikdom uten dannelse.

School began in earnest next day. A profound impression was made upon me, I remember, by the roar of voices in the schoolroom suddenly becoming hushed as death when Mr. Creakle entered after breakfast, and stood in the doorway looking round upon us like a giant in a story-book surveying his captives.

Tungay stood at Mr. Creakle's elbow. He had no occasion, I thought, to cry out 'Silence!' so ferociously, for the boys were all struck speechless and motionless.

But the greatest wonder that I heard of Mr. Creakle was, there being one boy in the school on whom he never ventured to lay a hand, and that boy being J. Steerforth. Steerforth himself confirmed this when it was stated, and said that he should like to begin to see him do it. On being asked by a mild boy (not me) how he would proceed if he did begin to see him do it, he dipped a match into his phosphorus-box on purpose to shed a glare over his reply, and said he would commence by knocking him down with a blow on the forehead from the seven-and-sixpenny ink-bottle that was always on the mantelpiece. We sat in the dark for some time, breathless.

Es ist immer angenehm, aus fremdem Munde das Lob der Heimat zu hören.

I gazed upon the schoolroom into which he took me, as the most forlorn and desolate place I had ever seen. I see it now. A long room with three long rows of desks, and six of forms, and bristling all round with pegs for hats and slates. Scraps of old copy-books and exercises litter the dirty floor. Some silkworms' houses, made of the same materials, are scattered over the desks. Two miserable little white mice, left behind by their owner, are running up and down in a fusty castle made of pasteboard and wire, looking in all the corners with their red eyes for anything to eat. A bird, in a cage very little bigger than himself, makes a mournful rattle now and then in hopping on his perch, two inches high, or dropping from it; but neither sings nor chirps. There is a strange unwholesome smell upon the room, like mildewed corduroys, sweet apples wanting air, and rotten books. There could not well be more ink splashed about it, if it had been roofless from its first construction, and the skies had rained, snowed, hailed, and blown ink through the varying seasons of the year.

Mr. Mell having left me while he took his irreparable boots upstairs, I went softly to the upper end of the room, observing all this as I crept along. Suddenly I came upon a pasteboard placard, beautifully written, which was lying on the desk, and bore these words: 'TAKE CARE OF HIM. HE BITES.'

I got upon the desk immediately, apprehensive of at least a great dog underneath. But, though I looked all round with anxious eyes, I could see nothing of him. I was still engaged in peering about, when Mr. Mell came back, and asked me what I did up there?

'I beg your pardon, sir,' says I, 'if you please, I'm looking for the dog.'

'Dog?' he says. 'What dog?'

'Isn't it a dog, sir?'

'Isn't what a dog?'

'That's to be taken care of, sir; that bites.'

'No, Copperfield,' says he, gravely, 'that's not a dog. That's a boy. My instructions are, Copperfield, to put this placard on your back. I am sorry to make such a beginning with you, but I must do it.' With that he took me down, and tied the placard, which was neatly constructed for the purpose, on my shoulders like a knapsack; and wherever I went, afterwards, I had the consolation of carrying it.

Man muβ seine Zeit ganz in ihrer Komplexheit und Widersprüchlickeit in sich haben, denn Vielfaches, nicht Eines nur, bildet die Zukunft vor. -

Sagt, was ihr wollt: das Christentum, diese Blüte des Judentums, bleibt einer der beiden Grundpfeiler, auf denen die abenländische Gesittung ruht und von denen der andere die mediterrane Antike ist.

The man with the wooden leg eyed me all over - it didn't take long, for there was not much of me - [...].

Sometimes she tried to think if there were any kind of knowledge that would bespeak his interests more readily than another. Always: at her books, her music, and her work: in her morning walks, and in her nightly prayers: she had her engrossing aim in view. Strange study for a child, to learn the road to a hard parent's heart!

ASTA
Men glæden, - den må deles med nogen, mener De?

BORGHEJM
Ja, hvad lykke var der ellers i det at være glad?

ASTA
Å nej, - der kan være noget i det.

BORGHEIM
Nå, naturligvis kan en jo gå sådan til en tid og være glad indeni sig selv. Men det forslår ikke i længden. Nej, glæden, den må man være to om.

ASTA
Altid bare to? Aldrig flere? Aldrig mange?

As they looked at her, I looked at her also. Although it was a warm day, she seemed to think of nothing but the fire. I fancied she was jealous even of the saucepan on it; [...].

[...] und gerade in ihrer psychologischen Vereinigung, ihrem humoristischen Ineinanderflieβen zeigt sich, wie sehr 'Don Quijote' ein produkt christlicher Kultur, christlicher Seelenkunde und Menschlichkeit ist und was das Christentum für die Welt der Seele, der Dichtung, für das Humane selbst un seine kühne Erweiterung und Befreiung denn doch ewig bedeutet.