Literature
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Misery by Anton Chekhov
THE twilight of evening. Big flakes of wet snow are whirling lazily about the street lamps, which have just been…
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My Life by Anton Chekhov
The Story of a Provincial I THE Superintendent said to me: “I only keep you out of regard for your…
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Neighbors by Anton Chekhov
“He had a deep conviction that they were unhappy, and could not be happy, and their love seemed to him…
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Nerves by Anton Chekhov
DMITRI OSIPOVITCH VAXIN, the architect, returned from town to his holiday cottage greatly impressed by the spiritualistic sance at which…
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Not Wanted by Anton Chekhov
BETWEEN six and seven o’clock on a July evening, a crowd of summer visitors — mostly fathers of families —…
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Oh! The Public! by Anton Chekhov
“HERE goes, I’ve done with drinking! Nothing. . . n-o-thing shall tempt me to it. It’s time to take myself…
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Old Age by Anton Chekhov
UZELKOV, an architect with the rank of civil councillor, arrived in his native town, to which he had been invited…
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On Official Duty by Anton Chekhov
THE deputy examining magistrate and the district doctor were going to an inquest in the village of Syrnya. On the…
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On The Road by Anton Chekhov
“Upon the breast of a gigantic crag,A golden cloudlet rested for one night.” LERMONTOV. IN the room which the tavern…
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Overdoing It by Anton Chekhov
GLYEB GAVRILOVITCH SMIRNOV, a land surveyor, arrived at the station of Gnilushki. He had another twenty or thirty miles to…
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