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Pagina 1 van 472
CRIME AND PUNISHMENT PART I CHAPTER I On an exceptionally hot evening early in July a young man came out of the garret in which he lodged in S. Place and walked slowly, as though in hesitation, towards K. bridge. He had successfully avoided meeting his landlady on the staircase. His garret was under the roof of a high, five-storied house and was more like a cupboard than a room. The landlady who provided him with garret, dinners, and attendance, lived on the floor below, and every time he went out he was obliged to pass her kitchen, the door of which invariably stood open. And each time he passed, the young man had a sick, frightened feeling, which made him scowl and feel ashamed. He was hopelessly in debt to his landlady, and was afraid of meeting her. This was not because he was cowardly and abject, quite the contrary; but for some time past he had been in an overstrained irritable condition, verging on hypochondria. He had become so completely absorbed in himself, and isolated from his fellows that he dreaded meeting, not only his landlady, but anyone at all. He was crushed by poverty, but the anxieties of his position had of late ceased to weigh upon him. He had given up attending to matters of practical importance; he had lost all desire to do so. Nothing that any landlady could do had a real terror for him. But to be stopped on the stairs, to be forced to listen to her trivial, irrelevant gossip, to pestering demands for payment, threats and complaints, and to rack his brains for excuses, to prevaricate, to lie--no, rather than that, he would creep down the stairs like a cat and slip out unseen. This evening, however, on coming out into the street, he became acutely aware of his fears. "I want to attempt a thing _like that_ and am frightened by these trifles," he thought, with an odd smile. "Hm... yes, all is in a man's hands and he lets it all slip from cowardice, that's an axiom. It would be interesting to know what it is men are most afraid of. Taking a new step, uttering a new word is what they fear most.... But I am talking too much. It's because I chatter that
CRIME AND PUNISHMENT PART I CHAPTER I On an exceptionally hot evening early in July a young man came out of the garret in which he lodged in S. Place and walked slowly, as though in hesitation, towards K. bridge. He had successfully avoided meeting his landlady on the staircase. His garret was under the roof of a high, five-storied house and was more like a cupboard than a room. The landlady who provided him with garret, dinners, and attendance, lived on the floor below, and every time he went out he was obliged to pass her kitchen, the door of which invariably stood open. And each time he passed, the young man had a sick, frightened feeling, which made him scowl and feel ashamed. He was hopelessly in debt to his landlady, and was afraid of meeting her. This was not because he was cowardly and abject, quite the contrary; but for some time past he had been in an overstrained irritable condition, verging on hypochondria. He had become so completely absorbed in himself, and isolated from his fellows that he dreaded meeting, not only his landlady, but anyone at all. He was crushed by poverty, but the anxieties of his position had of late ceased to weigh upon him. He had given up attending to matters of practical importance; he had lost all desire to do so. Nothing that any landlady could do had a real terror for him. But to be stopped on the stairs, to be forced to listen to her trivial, irrelevant gossip, to pestering demands for payment, threats and complaints, and to rack his brains for excuses, to prevaricate, to lie--no, rather than that, he would creep down the stairs like a cat and slip out unseen. This evening, however, on coming out into the street, he became acutely aware of his fears. "I want to attempt a thing _like that_ and am frightened by these trifles," he thought, with an odd smile. "Hm... yes, all is in a man's hands and he lets it all slip from cowardice, that's an axiom. It would be interesting to know what it is men are most afraid of. Taking a new step, uttering a new word is what they fear most.... But I am talking too much. It's because I chatter that
Column | ||
Er is maar één goed design Mark Zaremba, 251 x gelezen Kan Audi een aanklacht indienen tegen Volvo omdat Volvo een stuur in zijn auto's heeft gebouwd? Nee, zou je zeggen. Toch is dat ongeveer wat Apple doet met Samsung. Rechtszaken leiden de laatste weken wereldwijd tot verboden voor Samsung's tablets en mobieltjes. Apple vindt dat het uiterlijk van de Galaxytelefoons en -tablets is gekopieerd van de iPhone en de iPad. Daarnaast zou de aansturing met de vinger zijn nagemaakt van Apple. Lees verder... | ||
Nieuws | ||
Wat doen we in de meivakantie Gemeentemuseum Den Gaag, 400 x gelezen Een eigen fabeldier knutselen, een romantisch landschap leren schilderen of de kunstenaar van die meer dan levensgrote tekening in de projectenzaal ontmoeten. Het kan allemaal in de meivakantie in het Gemeentemuseum Den Haag. Daarnaast zijn er vier - in de pers zeer goed ontvangen - tentoonstellingen te zien: Een romantische kijk. De Rademakers collecti'; James Ensor, Universum van een fantast; Pronkzucht aan het hof. Keizerlijk porselein uit Shanghai en tot en met 1 mei Moholy Nàgy, De kunst van het licht. Het Gemeentemuseum is eerste en tweede Paasdag en Koninginnedag geopend. Lees verder... | ||
Essay | ||
Gedogen is slecht begrepen tolerantie Mark Zaremba, 9 x gelezen In zijn essay De lege tolerantie draagt Marcel ten Hoove een nuttig onderscheid aan tussen 'gedogen' en 'tolerantie'. Volgens hem bestaat er verwarring tussen de twee termen: “Gedogen is slecht begrepen tolerantie.” Gedogen is de onwil om te oordelen, zegt hij. Tolerantie daarentegen, vereist juist de wil om te oordelen: “Tolerantie krijgt pas inhoud in de confrontatie met het verschil. Tolerantie is een manier om te leren omgaan met overtuigingen en gedragingen, zeden en gewoonten die in meer of mindere mate strijdig zijn met de eigen opvattingen en leefwijze.” Lees verder... | ||
Column | ||
Kikkergedicht uit Spanje Mark Zaremba (vertaling), 2189 x gelezen Er was in Marbella een klein pleintje met een mooie fontein. De waterspuwers waren acht stenen kikkertjes die iedereen verblijdden met hun gekwaak. Op een dag kwam een jongen uit een verre plaats bij de fontein. Hij wilde het water aanraken en steunde licht op het kleinste kikkertje. Het kikkertje dat het altijd heel koud had gehad bemerkte een speciaal gevoel. Lees verder... | ||
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