Chapter 25
Such a movement began in the gang, running around and shouting, that Maxim did not have time to
Say thanks to Silver. When at last the villagers lined up and
moved out of the forest, Maxim, to whom they returned the horse and gave weapons,
caught up with the prince.
Nikita Romanych, - he said, - you repaid me today for the bear!
Well, Maxim Grigorievich, - answered Serebryany, - for that in the world
we live to help each other!
Prince, - picked up the Ring, who was also riding near Silver,
I looked at you and thought: oh, it’s a pity that one grassroots doesn’t see him
well done, whom I left on the Volga! Though he is a thin man, read to me
equal, but if you loved him, prince, he would love you! no offense to you
say, but you are similar in temper. How did you talk about Holy Russia, but they caught fire
your eyes, that's how I remembered Yermak Timofeyich. He loves his homeland, loves dearly
her, there is no need, that the stanitsa. He told me more than once that he was ashamed of the earth
burden for nothing that I would like to serve the motherland. Oh, what if now
him to the Tatars! He alone is worth a hundred. How to shout: follow me, guys! So,
it seems that you yourself will become both higher and stronger, and nothing will stop you, and that’s all
around you and falls. You look like him, by God, you look like Nikita Romanych,
not to reproach you!
The ring thought. Silver rode cautiously, looking into the dark
distance; Maxim was silent. The footsteps of robbers resounded muffled along the road; stellar
the night spread silently over the sleeping earth. For a long time the crowd
the direction indicated by the Tatar, who was led under the saber of Khlopko and
Poddubny.
Suddenly some strange, measured sounds came from afar.
the noise of the wind in the reeds, if the reeds could tinkle like glass or strings.
What is it? asked Nikita Romanych, stopping his horse.
Ring took off his cap and bowed his head almost to the bow.
Wait, prince, let me hear!
The sounds flowed measuredly and mournfully, now in ringing silver jets, then
like the noise of a swaying forest, - suddenly fell silent, as if in a fit of
steppe wind.
Cum! - said Ring, laughing. - Look, what a chest! I am tea
I blew myself for half an hour without taking a breath!
Yes, what is it? - asked the prince.
Chebuzga! Ring answered. - It is with them that we have a horn or
pitiful. Must be Bashkirs (224). After all, there are different rabble with the Khan, and
Kazanians, and Astrakhans, and all sorts of Nogai trash. Listen here again
began to play.
In the distance, it seemed as if a new gust of a whirlwind began, turned into long,
sadly pleasant overflows, and after a while it ended abruptly,
like a horse's snort.
Aha! - said the Ring, - this knee came out shorter; should be
overstrained, dog son!
But then there were new sounds, much louder. It seemed like a lot
bells rang non-stop.
And here is the throat! Ring said. - After all, from a distance you think and knows
what; and they do it with their throats. Look at them dismantled, enemy children!
Sad, mournful sounds were replaced by cheerful ones, but it was not a Russian
sadness and not Russian prowess. Here reflected the wild grandeur of a nomadic tribe, and
sprays of herds, and heroic raids, and transitions of peoples from region to region, and
longing for an unknown, primitive homeland.
Prince, - said the Ring, - it must be close to the camp; I have tea for this
hillock and the lights will be visible. Allow me to go and see what and how; to me
this is a common thing, I have met them enough beyond the Volga; and you would give the guys
take a breath and take a look.
Go with God, - said the prince, and the Ring jumped off the horse and disappeared into
The robbers recovered, inspected their weapons and sat down on the ground, not changing
battle order. A deep silence reigned in the gang. Everyone understood
the importance of the work begun and the need for unconditional obedience. Meanwhile
the sounds of the chebuzga still flowed, the moon and the stars illuminated the field, everything was
quietly and solemnly, and only occasionally a light breath of wind stirred the feather grass
silver streams.
About an hour passed; The ring did not return. The prince began to lose
patience, but suddenly, three paces from him, a man rose from the grass. Nikita
Romanovich grabbed his sword.
Hush, prince, it's me! - said the Ring, grinning. - That's right.
I crawled up to the Tatars; looked out for everything; now I know their camp is not worse than mine
smoking. If you permit, prince, I will take a dozen fine fellows, frighten the herd and
I will alarm the Tatar; and you that hour, if you decide, hit them with two
sides, but with a kind cry; so be I Tatar, if we are not half of them
let's cut it! That's what I say, just for the sake of it; the night work of the master is afraid;
and the sun will rise, so tell you, prince, and we just obey!
Silver knew the resourcefulness and sharpness of the Ring and gave him
act according to his thoughts.
Guys, - said the Ring to the robbers, - we quarreled a little, yes
who remembers the old, that eye out! Are there ten people among you
hunters with me to go to the camp?
Choose whom you know, - answered the robbers, - we are all ready.
Thank you guys; and if you have already respected me, so I take this
what: go here, Poddubny, and you, Khlopko, and you, Woodpecker, and you, Lesnikov, and
you, Sieve, and Styopka, and Mishka, and Shestoper, and Anvil, and Locust! And you
where are you going, Mitka? I didn't call you stay with the prince, you are in our business
unsuitable. Take off, guys, sabers, it’s not okay to crawl with them, it will be with us and
knives. Only, guys, mind you, listen to my words, not a step without me! let's go to
hunters, so what I will indicate, then do it. Almost someone is wrong, I'm here for him
same and karachun!
Good, good! - answered those chosen by the Ring. - As you say so
let's do it. Let's go to a holy cause, I suppose we won't quarrel.
Do you see, prince, this hillside? continued the ataman. - How do you get to
him, their fires will be visible to you. And my advice is to wait for you at the slope until
hear my squeal. And as I frighten the herd and hear a screech and scream, so you
attack the infidels; and they have nowhere to go; there will be no more horses; one
On one side we, on the other came a river with a swamp.
The prince promised to do everything by order of the Signet.
Meanwhile, the chieftain with ten daring men went to the sound of the chebuzga and soon
disappeared into the grass. Another would think that they immediately hid; but a keen eye
could notice the swaying of the grass, not dependent on the wind and not according to it
direction.
Half an hour later, Ring and his comrades were already close to the Tatar
wagons.
Lying in a feather grass, Ring raised his head.
About fifty paces in front of him a fire burned and illuminated several Bashkirs,
sitting in a circle with their legs tucked under them. Who was in a colorful robe, who
in a sheepskin coat, and some in a tattered camel caftan. stuck in
the ground spears stuck out near them and threw their long shadows to the very
Ring. A herd of several thousand horses, entrusted to the guards of the Bashkirs,
grazed nearby in a dense heap. Other fires, a hundred paces away, illuminated
countless felt tents.
The Bashkirs did not vigilantly watch their herd. They came from the Volga to
Ryazan itself, without meeting resistance anywhere; knew that our troops were disbanded, and
did not expect an enemy; but from the wolves, we thought, we will protect ourselves from the chebuzga, yes
throat. And four of them, resting the ends of long burdock pipes on their upper teeth
and taking as much wind as they could into their broad breasts, they blew, fingering, until
spirit was enough. Others pulled them up with their throats, and the fire illuminated their cheekbones.
faces purple with exertion.
For several minutes Ring admired this picture, thinking to himself:
should he immediately rush with a knife at the Bashkirs and, without letting them come to their senses,
slaughter every single one? Or first disperse the horses, and then start
Both of these tempted him. "Look, what a herd," he thought, hiding
breath, - if you skillfully frighten him, so he, with a pretense, all their wagons
will break; such a stir that they do not recognize their own. And also these
enemy children sit well, hurt good! You see, how they play; you can visit them
crawl two steps!"
And the chieftain did not want to give up the bloody fun of the Bashkirs.
Sieve, - he whispered to a comrade lurking near him, - what, you have
does it tickle in the throat? Can you scream?
And what are you? Resheto replied in a whisper.
Yes, as if osip manenko.
I'll probably scream. It's time, isn't it?
Wait, it's early. Crawl out as close as possible to the herd; crawl,
until the horses sweep you away; but as soon as they start shaking their ears, you and boom, yes
more terrible, and drive them straight to the wagons!
The sieve nodded his head and disappeared into the feather grass.
Well, brothers, - the Ring whispered to the rest of the comrades, - crawl after me.
under infidels, only, chur, carefully. You see, there are only twenty of them, and
we are nine; there will be two for each of you, and I take four. how
hear that Sieve squealed, so all at once and yell, but right at them!
Are you ready?
Ready! - the robbers answered in a whisper.
The ataman took a breath, recovered and began to slowly pull out from behind
belt a long knife.
COMPLEX TEXT ANALYSIS
1 ... Wake up .. it hurts me .. it’s a fine autumn. 2. August was with warm rains, as if on purpose falling out for sowing. 3. I remember the wound .. her fresh, quiet morning ... 4. I remember the big, all golden, dried up and porosity. zap .. x honey and autumn .. it is fresh ... sti. 5. The air is so clean, as if it is completely absent throughout the garden, voices and the creak of carts are heard.
6. From the end of September, all the gardens of the threshing floor were empty, the weather, as usual, coolly m. 7. The wind tore and tore for days on end..the trees fell, the rains watered them from morning to night. eight. Sometimes in the evening, between gloomy and low clouds, a trembling golden color of no sun made its way in the west. . nine. A liquid blue sky shone coldly and brightly in the north over those yellow s. 10. Stoish .. at the window and think .. maybe God will let it clear up .. sya. 11. But the wind (not) subsided. 12. He excited the garden tore (not) a stream of smoke and dreams continuously running from the chimney .. caught up with ominous cosmos of ash clouds..kov. 13. They fled no .. and quickly and soon, like smoke, clouded the sun. 14. His brilliance went out, the window closed into the blue sky, and in the village it became deserted .. oh and boring and dreams .. it began to rain .. at first quietly carefully then all the thicker and finally pr .. rotated into a downpour with a storm and darkness.15. A long troubled night was coming …
(According to I. Bunin)
Fill in the missing punctuation marks. Insert the missing letters.
Title the text.
Define the style and type of text.
Plan your text.
Write out all the pronouns from sentence No. 5.
Find 2-3 polysemantic words in the text. Give examples of phrases where these words appear in other meanings.
Write out examples from the text that can illustrate the following punctuation rules:
Separation of definitions;
Comma between homogeneous definitions.
8. Underline the grammatical foundations of compound sentences.
9. Chart a sentence with direct speech.
10. Disassemble proposal No. 2 by members.
COMPLEX TEXT ANALYSIS
1. Language is the most expressive thing that a person possesses ..gives and if he stops paying attention to his language, he will stop ..thinking that he has already mastered it sufficiently, he will begin to retreat. 2. For your language - oral .. and written .. - you need to follow the constant ..o.
3. And if you want to be a (truly) intelligent..intelligent educated..and cultured person, then pay attention to your language.
4. If you need to speak in public for a hundred times, then first of all make sure that your speeches are (not) long.. 5. Keep track of time. 6. This is (not) necessary not only out of respect for others - it is important that (would) you be understood.
7. In order for the performance to be interesting .. everything that you say should be interesting .. for you. 8. If the speaker tells or reads with interest for himself, and the audience feels it .. then the audience will be interested .. but.
9. Post .. so that (would) in your speech .. (not) there was just a chain of different thoughts, but what (would) be one, the main thought of which should be subordinated to all the others. 10. Then it will be easier to listen to you in your speech. end of your main idea.
11. And it is necessary (not) only for a writer and a scientist to be able to write well. 12. Yes (yes) well freely and with a certain amount of humor written .. a letter to a friend characterizes .. you (not) less than your usual .. speech.13. Through a letter, let me feel ... your disposition ... your looseness in addressing ... to a person you like. (D.S. Likhachev.)
1. Fill in the missing punctuation marks.
2. Insert missing letters.
3. Title the text.
4. Define the style and type of text.
5. Plan the text.
6. Write out from the text a number of cognate words for the following words:
performance
interest
7. Write down antonyms from the first paragraph.
8. Make a morphological analysis of the word (for) time.
9. Disassemble sentence #4 among the members.
DICTATION
Many churches and bell towers raised their gilded heads to the sky. Like large green and yellow spots, dense groves and fields covered with bread could be seen between the houses. Unsteady living bridges ran across the Moscow River, trembling violently and covered with water when wagons or horsemen passed over them. Dozens of mill wheels were turning on the Yauza and on the Neglinnaya, one next to the other. These groves, fields and mills in the middle of the city gave the then Moscow a lot of picturesque. It was especially fun to look at the monasteries, which, with white fences and motley heaps of colored and gilded heads, seemed to be separate cities.
Above all this confusion of churches, houses, groves and monasteries, the Kremlin churches and the recently finished Church of the Intercession of the Virgin, which John founded several years ago in memory of the capture of Kazan and which we now know under the name of St. Basil the Blessed, proudly rose. Great was the joy of the Muscovites when at last the scaffolding that covered this church fell, and it appeared in all its bizarre splendor, sparkling with gold and colors and surprising
gaze with a variety of ornaments. For a long time the people did not stop marveling at the skillful architect, who gave the Orthodox a spectacle that had never been seen before. Other Moscow churches were also good. The Muscovites did not spare either rubles or labors for the splendor of the houses of God. Expensive colors, gilding and large outdoor icons in full human height were visible everywhere.
The Orthodox loved to decorate the houses of God, but on the other hand they cared little about the appearance of their houses. Almost all of their dwellings were built firmly and simply, from pine or oak beams, not even sheathed with boards, according to an old Russian proverb: a hut is not red with corners, but red with pies. (According to A.K. Tolstoy.)
(246 words. Spelling of unstressed vowels and consonants at the root of the word. The use of particles not and neither. The use of capital letters. Spelling of participle suffixes. Punctuation with homogeneous and isolated members of the sentence. Punctuation in a complex sentence.)
Dictation with a grammar task
Suddenly, some strange, measured sounds rushed from afar. It was not a human, not a horn, not a harp, but something like the sound of wind in a reed, if the reed could ring like glass or strings.
The sounds flowed measuredly and mournfully, now in ringing silver streams, then, like the noise of a shaking forest, they suddenly fell silent, as if in a gust of a steppe wind.
In the distance, it seemed as if a new gust of a whirlwind began, turned into long, sadly pleasant overflows, and after a while ended abruptly, like a horse's snort. But then there were new sounds, much louder. It seemed that many bells were ringing non-stop. Sad, mournful sounds were replaced by cheerful ones, but it was not Russian sadness and not Russian daring. It reflected the wild grandeur of a nomadic tribe, and heroic raids, and the transitions of peoples from region to region, and longing for an unknown, primitive homeland.
(According to A.K. Tolstoy.)
(125 words. Punctuation with homogeneous members of a sentence. Spelling of vowels in suffixes and endings of adjectives. Spelling of an unpronounceable consonant at the root of a word. Spelling of combinations chk, ch, nch.)
Build a sentence scheme with homogeneous members.
Find a complex sentence, mark the grammatical basis.
Break down the adjective sad, indicate the way the word is formed.
From the first paragraph, write out words in which the number of sounds and letters does not match.
Write out the verb from the first sentence, make a morphological analysis.
Underline words with an unpronounceable consonant at the root of the word.
A1. In which word is the letter denoting the stressed vowel correctly highlighted?
1.leaflet 2.identity 3.obituary 4.pullover.
A2. In which sentence should the word COMPANY be used instead of the word CAMPAIGN?
Frolov was considered the favorite of the current election campaign.
It is now a hot time in the village: the harvesting campaign has begun.
Despite the lack of visible results, the CAMPAIGN turned out to be very successful for our troops: the losses were small, the soldiers were fed and shod.
At home, before leaving, he was instructed for a long time so that in a new place he would not fall into a bad CAMPAIGN.
kilogram of tomatoes
a pair of boots
many professors
terms are preferable
Seeing on the shelf a beautifully published album with reproductions of Kuindzhi.
the gaze was no longer fixed on anything.
my choice was approved by the seller of the Art Studies section.
Petya asked me to give him this particular book.
I wanted to buy it right away.
Blok wanted all his work to be considered as a single novel in verse.
Upon arrival in the city, we first went to the hotel.
Surikov's painting "Boyar Morozova" reflects one of the plots of the history of the split.
The library was moved to a worse building.
The text for the reader is a certain sequence of characters, that is, letters that make up words and sentences. 2) ... 3) Thanks to this, the words that make up the text become clear. 4) ... this does not always mean that its content, meaning is clear. 5) For a correct and complete understanding of the text, you need to have a stock of relevant knowledge, lively ideas and impressions, which, as it were, are projected by the reader onto the text, as if onto a screen. 6) In the mind of the reader, a creative reproduction of the reality depicted in a work of art takes place.
1) What is not in the reader's experience is not for him in the text either.
2) The poetic word encourages us to co-create with the writer.
3) These external signs are associated with their mental images - internal signs, which are closely related to the corresponding meanings.
4) A text that is not entirely clear becomes, thanks to the acquired knowledge, quite understandable over time.
A7. Which of the following words (combinations of words) should be in place of the gap in the fourth sentence of the text.
Exclusively
Means
Primarily
However.
1) simple complicated 2) complex non-union 3) compound 4) complex subordinate.
A9) Indicate the correct morphological characteristic of the word DISPLAYED from the sixth 6th sentence of the text.
1) real participle 2) passive participle 3) gerund participle 4) adjective.
Read the text and complete task B1 - B4.
What are people learning?
1) University education, like any higher education, means a different level compared to high school. 2) And one of the features of this stage is that there is no longer a top and a bottom - teachers and students - here are all colleagues, that is, people who work together. 3) After all, the work of a higher educational institution consists in cooperation: some want to study, while others help them in this. 4) Coercion, compulsory "violent" control remained at the lowest level of education. 5) And the attitude of teachers towards you will be different. 6) This will be the attitude of a colleague to a junior colleague.
Answers to tasks B1 - B2 write down in words.
IN 1. Indicate the way the word APPROACH is formed (sentence 12).
IN 2. From sentence 10, write out the subordinating phrase with the link AGREED.
Answers to task B3 indicate the number.
IN 3. Among sentences 7 - 13, find a simple one-part impersonal sentence. Write down his number.
M. Gorky. The play "At the bottom".
1. How is the truth of Luke and the truth of Sateen contrasted in the play? Whose truth, in your opinion, doss-homes need more?
A.I. Kuprin. The story "Olesya"
Give a detailed answer to the question:
Why did the love of Ivan Timofeevich and Olesya not take place? What did the heroine leave as a keepsake for her lover?
COMPLEX TEXT ANALYSIS
1 ... Wake up .. it hurts me .. it’s a fine autumn. 2. August was with warm rains, as if on purpose falling out for sowing. 3. I remember the wound .. her fresh, quiet morning ... 4. I remember the big, all golden, dried up and porosity. zap .. x honey and autumn .. it is fresh ... sti. 5. The air is so clean, as if it is completely absent throughout the garden, voices and the creak of carts are heard.
6. From the end of September, all the gardens of the threshing floor were empty, the weather, as usual, coolly m. 7. The wind tore and tore for days on end..the trees fell, the rains watered them from morning to night. eight. Sometimes in the evening, between gloomy and low clouds, a trembling golden color of no sun made its way in the west. . nine. A liquid blue sky shone coldly and brightly in the north over those yellow s. 10. Stoish .. at the window and think .. maybe God will let it clear up .. sya. 11. But the wind (not) subsided. 12. He excited the garden tore (not) a stream of smoke and dreams continuously running from the chimney .. caught up with ominous cosmos of ash clouds..kov. 13. They fled no .. and quickly and soon, like smoke, clouded the sun. 14. His brilliance went out, the window closed into the blue sky, and in the village it became deserted .. oh and boring and dreams .. it began to rain .. at first quietly carefully then all the thicker and finally pr .. rotated into a downpour with a storm and darkness.15. A long troubled night was coming …
(According to I. Bunin)
Fill in the missing punctuation marks. Insert the missing letters.
Title the text.
Define the style and type of text.
Plan your text.
Write out all the pronouns from sentence No. 5.
Find 2-3 polysemantic words in the text. Give examples of phrases where these words appear in other meanings.
Write out examples from the text that can illustrate the following punctuation rules:
Separation of definitions;
Comma between homogeneous definitions.
8. Underline the grammatical foundations of compound sentences.
9. Chart a sentence with direct speech.
10. Disassemble proposal No. 2 by members.
COMPLEX TEXT ANALYSIS
1. Language is the most expressive thing that a person possesses ..gives and if he stops paying attention to his language, he will stop ..thinking that he has already mastered it sufficiently, he will begin to retreat. 2. For your language - oral .. and written .. - you need to follow the constant ..o.
3. And if you want to be a (truly) intelligent..intelligent educated..and cultured person, then pay attention to your language.
4. If you need to speak in public for a hundred times, then first of all make sure that your speeches are (not) long.. 5. Keep track of time. 6. This is (not) necessary not only out of respect for others - it is important that (would) you be understood.
7. In order for the performance to be interesting .. everything that you say should be interesting .. for you. 8. If the speaker tells or reads with interest for himself, and the audience feels it .. then the audience will be interested .. but.
9. Post .. so that (would) in your speech .. (not) there was just a chain of different thoughts, but what (would) be one, the main thought of which should be subordinated to all the others. 10. Then it will be easier to listen to you in your speech. end of your main idea.
11. And it is necessary (not) only for a writer and a scientist to be able to write well. 12. Yes (yes) well freely and with a certain amount of humor written .. a letter to a friend characterizes .. you (not) less than your usual .. speech.13. Through a letter, let me feel ... your disposition ... your looseness in addressing ... to a person you like. (D.S. Likhachev.)
1. Fill in the missing punctuation marks.
2. Insert missing letters.
3. Title the text.
4. Define the style and type of text.
5. Plan the text.
6. Write out from the text a number of cognate words for the following words:
performance
interest
7. Write down antonyms from the first paragraph.
8. Make a morphological analysis of the word (for) time.
9. Disassemble sentence #4 among the members.
Many churches and bell towers raised their gilded heads to the sky. Like large green and yellow spots, dense groves and fields covered with bread could be seen between the houses. Unsteady living bridges ran across the Moscow River, trembling violently and covered with water when wagons or horsemen passed over them. Dozens of mill wheels were turning on the Yauza and on the Neglinnaya, one next to the other. These groves, fields and mills in the middle of the city gave the then Moscow a lot of picturesque. It was especially fun to look at the monasteries, which, with white fences and motley heaps of colored and gilded heads, seemed to be separate cities.
Above all this confusion of churches, houses, groves and monasteries, the Kremlin churches and the recently finished Church of the Intercession of the Virgin, which John founded several years ago in memory of the capture of Kazan and which we now know under the name of St. Basil the Blessed, proudly rose. Great was the joy of the Muscovites when at last the scaffolding that covered this church fell, and it appeared in all its bizarre splendor, sparkling with gold and colors and surprising
gaze with a variety of ornaments. For a long time the people did not stop marveling at the skillful architect, who gave the Orthodox a spectacle that had never been seen before. Other Moscow churches were also good. The Muscovites did not spare either rubles or labors for the splendor of the houses of God. Expensive colors, gilding and large outdoor icons in full human height were visible everywhere.
The Orthodox loved to decorate the houses of God, but on the other hand they cared little about the appearance of their houses. Almost all of their dwellings were built firmly and simply, from pine or oak beams, not even sheathed with boards, according to an old Russian proverb: a hut is not red with corners, but red with pies. (According to A.K. Tolstoy.)
(246 words. Spelling of unstressed vowels and consonants at the root of the word. The use of particles not and neither. The use of capital letters. Spelling of participle suffixes. Punctuation with homogeneous and isolated members of the sentence. Punctuation in a complex sentence.)
Dictation with a grammar task
Suddenly, some strange, measured sounds rushed from afar. It was not a human, not a horn, not a harp, but something like the sound of wind in a reed, if the reed could ring like glass or strings.
The sounds flowed measuredly and mournfully, now in ringing silver streams, then, like the noise of a shaking forest, they suddenly fell silent, as if in a gust of a steppe wind.
In the distance, it seemed as if a new gust of a whirlwind began, turned into long, sadly pleasant overflows, and after a while ended abruptly, like a horse's snort. But then there were new sounds, much louder. It seemed that many bells were ringing non-stop. Sad, mournful sounds were replaced by cheerful ones, but it was not Russian sadness and not Russian daring. It reflected the wild grandeur of a nomadic tribe, and heroic raids, and the transitions of peoples from region to region, and longing for an unknown, primitive homeland.
(According to A.K. Tolstoy.)
(125 words. Punctuation with homogeneous members of a sentence. Spelling of vowels in suffixes and endings of adjectives. Spelling of an unpronounceable consonant at the root of a word. Spelling of combinations chk, ch, nch.)
Build a sentence scheme with homogeneous members.
Find a complex sentence, mark the grammatical basis.
Break down the adjective sad, indicate the way the word is formed.
From the first paragraph, write out words in which the number of sounds and letters does not match.
Write out the verb from the first sentence, make a morphological analysis.
Underline words with an unpronounceable consonant at the root of the word.
A1. In which word is the letter denoting the stressed vowel correctly highlighted?
1.leaflet 2.identity 3.obituary 4.pullover.
A2. In which sentence should the word COMPANY be used instead of the word CAMPAIGN?
Frolov was considered the favorite of the current election campaign.
It is now a hot time in the village: the harvesting campaign has begun.
Despite the lack of visible results, the CAMPAIGN turned out to be very successful for our troops: the losses were small, the soldiers were fed and shod.
At home, before leaving, he was instructed for a long time so that in a new place he would not fall into a bad CAMPAIGN.
kilogram of tomatoes
a pair of boots
many professors
terms are preferable
Seeing on the shelf a beautifully published album with reproductions of Kuindzhi.
the gaze was no longer fixed on anything.
my choice was approved by the seller of the Art Studies section.
Petya asked me to give him this particular book.
I wanted to buy it right away.
Blok wanted all his work to be considered as a single novel in verse.
Upon arrival in the city, we first went to the hotel.
Surikov's painting "Boyar Morozova" reflects one of the plots of the history of the split.
The library was moved to a worse building.
The text for the reader is a certain sequence of characters, that is, letters that make up words and sentences. 2) ... 3) Thanks to this, the words that make up the text become clear. 4) ... this does not always mean that its content, meaning is clear. 5) For a correct and complete understanding of the text, you need to have a stock of relevant knowledge, lively ideas and impressions, which, as it were, are projected by the reader onto the text, as if onto a screen. 6) In the mind of the reader, a creative reproduction of the reality depicted in a work of art takes place.
1) What is not in the reader's experience is not for him in the text either.
2) The poetic word encourages us to co-create with the writer.
3) These external signs are associated with their mental images - internal signs, which are closely related to the corresponding meanings.
4) A text that is not entirely clear becomes, thanks to the acquired knowledge, quite understandable over time.
A7. Which of the following words (combinations of words) should be in place of the gap in the fourth sentence of the text.
Exclusively
Means
Primarily
However.
1) simple complicated 2) complex non-union 3) compound 4) complex subordinate.
A9) Indicate the correct morphological characteristic of the word DISPLAYED from the sixth 6th sentence of the text.
1) real participle 2) passive participle 3) gerund participle 4) adjective.
Read the text and complete task B1 - B4.
What are people learning?
1) University education, like any higher education, means a different level compared to high school. 2) And one of the features of this stage is that there is no longer a top and a bottom - teachers and students - here are all colleagues, that is, people who work together. 3) After all, the work of a higher educational institution consists in cooperation: some want to study, while others help them in this. 4) Coercion, compulsory "violent" control remained at the lowest level of education. 5) And the attitude of teachers towards you will be different. 6) This will be the attitude of a colleague to a junior colleague.
Answers to tasks B1 - B2 write down in words.
IN 1. Indicate the way the word APPROACH is formed (sentence 12).
IN 2. From sentence 10, write out the subordinating phrase with the link AGREED.
Answers to task B3 indicate the number.
IN 3. Among sentences 7 - 13, find a simple one-part impersonal sentence. Write down his number.
M. Gorky. The play "At the bottom".
1. How is the truth of Luke and the truth of Sateen contrasted in the play? Whose truth, in your opinion, doss-homes need more?
A.I. Kuprin. The story "Olesya"
Give a detailed answer to the question:
Why did the love of Ivan Timofeevich and Olesya not take place? What did the heroine leave as a keepsake for her lover?
CONTROL DICTATIONS
A cold, stormy day, with gusty winds and rain mixed with snow, greeted the party, which was marching outside the gates of the stifling stage, unwelcomely. Katerina Lvovna went out rather cheerfully, but as soon as she stood in a row, she shivered all over and turned green. The drum beats, chained and unchained prisoners pour out into the yard. Everyone crowded together, then aligned in some order and went.
A bleak picture: a handful of people cut off from the world and deprived of any shadow of hope for a better future, drowning in the cold black mud of a dirt road. Everything around is terribly ugly: endless mud, gray sky, leafless wet willows and in their splayed boughs a ruffled crow. The wind groans, then howls and roars. In these hellish, soul-rending sounds that complete the entire horror of the picture, the advice of the wife of the biblical Job sounds: “Curse your birthday and die.”
The weather played out. From the gray blocks that covered the sky, snow began to fall in wet flakes, which, barely touching the ground, melted and increased the dirt that could not get out. Finally, a dark lead strip is shown; you can't see the other side of it. This strip is the Volga. A strong wind blows over the Volga and drives back and forth slowly rising broad-shouldered dark waves. A party of soaked and shuddering prisoners slowly approached the ferry and stopped, waiting for the police. Podoshol all wet dark porosity; The team began to place the prisoners. (Ya. S. Leskov.)
At the asphalt pier of the Ryazan railway station in Moscow there was a short letter train. There were only six carriages in it: a luggage carriage, where, contrary to custom, not luggage was placed, but food supplies were stored on ice, a restaurant carriage, from which a white cook looked out, and a government salon. The remaining three carriages were passenger carriages, and on their sofas, covered with harsh, striped covers, a delegation of shock workers, as well as foreign correspondents, were to be accommodated.
The time of departure was approaching, but the farewell hay did not in any way resemble the departure of an ordinary passenger train. There were no old women on the platform, no one poked the baby out of the window so that he could take one last look at his grandfather, whose dull eyes usually reflect fear of railway drafts. Of course, no one kissed. The delegation of shock workers was brought to the station by trade unionists who had not yet had time to work out the question of farewell kisses. The Moscow correspondents were escorted by editorial workers, accustomed to shaking hands in such cases. Foreign correspondents, in the number of thirty people, went to the opening of the highway in full force, with their wives and gramophones, so there was no one to see them off.
The members of the expedition, in accordance with the moment, spoke louder than usual, for no reason grabbed their notebooks and reproached the mourners for not going along with them on such an interesting journey. The journalist Lavoisian was especially noisy. He was young at heart, but in his curls, like the moon in the jungle, his bald head shone. Already now he wanted to send a lightning telegram to his editorial office, but there was nothing to do. (I. Ilf, E. Petrov.)
1504. I have already mentioned the zornitsa. Most often, zornitsy occur in July, when the bread ripens. Therefore, there is a popular belief that the zornitsy “bury the bread” - they bless it at night, and this makes the bread pour faster. In the Kaluga region, lightning is called "bread-farm".
Next to the zornitsa, in the same poetic row, is the word "dawn" - one of the most beautiful words in the Russian language. This word is never spoken out loud. It is impossible even to imagine that it could be shouted. Because it is akin to that settled silence of the night, when a clear and faint blue is covered over the thickets of a village garden. "Unsightly", as they say about this time of day among the people. In this glowing hour, the morning star burns low above the earth itself. The air is as pure as spring water.
In the dawn, in the dawn, there is something divine, chaste. At dawn, the grass is washed with dew, and in the villages it smells of warm fresh milk. And the shepherd's pitiful ones sing in the mists behind the acolytes.
Lights up quickly. In a warm house, silence, dusk. But then squares of orange light fall on the log walls, and the logs light up like layered amber. The sun is rising.
Autumn dawns are different - gloomy, slow. It’s reluctant to wake up during the day: anyway you won’t warm the frozen earth and you won’t return the smiling sunlight. Everything goes down, only the person does not give up. Since dawn, the stoves in the huts have already been burning, the smoke is dangling over the villages and spreading along the ground. And then, you see, the early rain drummed on the misted windows. (According to K. Paustovsky.)
1505. Bakharevsky house stood at the end of Nagornaya street. It was one story high and faced the street with fifteen windows. Something good-natured and at the same time cozy was in the physiognomy of this house (strange as it may seem, but each house has its own physiognomy). Under this wide green roof, behind these low walls painted in a wild gray, such a peaceful course of human existence took place! Not large bright windows, crowded with flowers and low silk screens, looked out onto the street with the most good-natured smile, as well-preserved old people can look at. Passers-by, hurriedly scurrying along the sidewalks of Nagornaya Street, peered enviously into the windows of Bakharev's house, where everything breathed full contentment and quiet family happiness. Probably, very many of these passers-by came up with the idea that at least a month, a week, even one day, live in this glorious old house and rest their soul and body from worldly squabbles and worries. Massive stone gates led to a wide courtyard, strewn, as in a circus, with fine yellow sand. The house itself opened onto the yard by two clean porches, between which a wide terrace was built, now covered with climbing greenery and an awning with large festoons. This terrace, with low wide steps, descended into a beautiful flower garden, fenced with a green wooden lattice. In the depths of the yard stood strong wooden services. Between them and the house stretched a living wall of acacias and lilacs, rising like a green brush from behind a beautiful cast-iron lattice with graceful posts. Parallel to the building of the main house, there was a long wooden outbuilding, where the kitchen, the coachman's room and the bathhouse were located. (According to D.N. Mamin-Sibiryak.)
1506. The last echoes of my voice had not yet died out, when I heard ... It is difficult for me to say what exactly, at first I heard a vague, barely perceptible by the ear, but endlessly repeated explosion of trumpet sounds and applause. It seemed that somewhere terribly far away, in some bottomless depth, an innumerable crowd suddenly stirred - and rose, rose, agitated and calling to each other, barely audibly, as if through a dream, through an overwhelming dream. Then the air began to flow and darken over the ruin ... I began to see shadows, myriads of shadows, millions of outlines, now rounded like helmets, now outstretched like spears, the rays of the moon were crushed by instant bluish sparks on these spears and helmets - and all this army, this crowd moved closer and closer, grew, swayed intensely ... An indescribable tension, a tension sufficient to lift the whole world, was felt in her; but not a single image stood out clearly ... And suddenly it seemed to me as if a thrill ran around, as if some huge waves receded and parted ... (According to I. S. Turgenev.)
1507. A stone house is built not for convenience, but according to the calculation of people who will not live in it. Only then it turns out to be inconvenient for the inhabitants, sitting like animals in cages.
A wooden house is being built imprudently. Several years pass after its erection, and the hostess remarks with amazement: one cannot recognize the house. An incongruous outbuilding grew on the right, a cornice collapsed on the left (initially a nice idea), ivy grew like crazy and completely covered the balcony ... It's good that the cornice collapsed, it would now be out of place.
The fate of families depends on whether they breed in a stone house or in a wooden one. Animals in cages have a daily desire to escape. And the parents in the stone house are already thinking where to poke their son, in the civil or military sector, to whom they would marry their daughter, to an old prince or a young rogue. And the kids fly out. Like bullets, they fly out of a stone house. The family collapses into dust and debris in an instant ... In a wooden house, the family does not collapse, it spreads. A ridiculous extension grows. Someone gets married, gives birth to children, the wife dies. The widower is overgrown with ivy, a new cornice is erected... Again the children come, and the husband dies. The widow remains, and the children have friends and friends from a neighboring house ... And the widow takes the brood to her upbringing. All this grows, laughs, retires in dark corners, kisses, and again someone gets married. A friend arrives, whom the widow has not seen for thirty years, and stays forever, a new extension is being built, unlike anything else. Who is the mother here? Daughter? Son? The house alone knows everything for everyone: it is spreading. (According to Yu. N. Tynyanov.)
I lived then (in the winter of 1835) in Moscow, with my aunt, the sister of the late mother. I was eighteen years old: I had just moved from the second year to the third year of the "Verbal" faculty (at that time it was called that) at Moscow University. My aunt was a quiet and meek woman, a widow. She occupied a large wooden house on Ostozhenka, warm, very warm, which, I believe, you will not find anywhere except Moscow, and saw almost no one, sat from morning till night in the living room with two companions, ate flower tea, played solitaire and now and then ordered to smoke. The companions ran into the hall; a few minutes later an old servant in a livery tailcoat brought a copper basin with a bunch of mint on a red-hot brick and, hastily stepping across the narrow rugs, poured vinegar on it. White steam blew over his shriveled face, he frowned and turned away, and the canaries in the dining room chirped, annoyed by the hiss of the fumes. (I. S. Turgenev.)
The roads of Southern Italy are shaky but picturesque. The carriage is light, and a pair of good horses carries it briskly to where the blue sea splashes - in Livorno. In the carriage, the gallant Transfiguration Prince Fyodor Ivanovich Kozlovsky. On his chest, under a civilian caftan, he has a packet sealed with sealing wax - a letter from Empress Catherine II to the commander-in-chief of all Russian troops in the Mediterranean, Lieutenant General Alexei Orlov. The prince hurries the coachman, and so much time has already been lost. After all, in the beginning there was still a long way from St. Petersburg to Paris, where he took Catherine's message to Voltaire, and only after that - to Livorno. No words, Prince Fedor is almost happy: after all, he became one of the few mortals who were honored to communicate with the great thinker. I had a long conversation with him. Voltaire praised the Russian Empress, talked about the Turkish war. Then they casually discussed Beaumarchais's new play. They agreed that the play was bad, not smart enough for a tragedy, and not funny enough for a comedy. Before parting, the philosopher confidentially told Kozlovsky that he was now creating a project of a “horse tank”, which, of course, would bring victory to the Russians on the Danube plains. (V. V. Shigin.)
1510. And behind the oaks - Dikanka with its magnificent palace, surrounded by a park, merging with oak forests, in which even herds of wild goats were found.
I spent the whole day in this forest, a sunny October day. The silence is amazing. Neither leaf nor twig moves. If you just look at the sun, a transparent, shiny cobweb shimmers in the air between thin shoots, and if you listen, an oak leaf that has fallen from a tree rustles for a moment. The ground was strewn with yellow leaves tightly nailed the day before by rain, above which stand green leaves that have not had time to turn yellow and fall off the leaves of young shoots. No sound, no movement. Only a maple leaf, translucent yellow in the sun, stands sideways to the stem and stubbornly swings to the sides, like a pendulum: now to the right, then to the left. It swayed for a long time and calmed down only when it broke away, flew down in zigzags and merged with the yellow carpet. Moreover, the silence was broken by two beauties - wild goats, who quickly swept past me and disappeared into the forest beam ... And there is no end to this forest. And in the middle of it are glades where herds graze ... Here is Volchiy Yar, from where an immense horizon opens far, far below, cut through by the blue ribbon of the Vorskla, now with a smooth steppe, now with a wooded steep bank ... (V. A. Gilyarov skip .)
1511. From my first stay in Yasnaya, I recall with particular vividness an evening spent with Tolstoy on a trip to a relative of his wife, who lived about seven versts from Yasnaya Polyana and was celebrating some kind of family celebration. Lev Nikolaevich proposed to go on foot, and all the way he was charmingly cheerful and fascinatingly talkative. But when we arrived at a rich manor house with a luxuriously furnished tea table, he got bored, frowned, and suddenly, half an hour after his arrival, sitting down next to me, said in an undertone: “Let's go!” We did so, leaving in the English custom without saying goodbye. But when we reached the road, already illuminated by the moon, I prayed that it would be impossible to go back on foot, because on that day we had already made a long one and a half hour walk, and Tolstoy, with amazing flexibility and ease for his years, ran up the hillocks and jumped over through the ditches... When we were half a verst from Yasnaya Polyana and crossed the highway, fireflies flickered in the bushes around us. With childish joy, Tolstoy began to collect them and triumphantly carried them home. Even now he is exactly standing in front of me under the warm cover of the June night, as if in a reflection of the inner radiance of his sublime and pure soul. (According to A.F. Koni.)
1512. Leo Tolstoy died.
A telegram was received, and it said in the most ordinary words - he died. It hit my heart, I roared from resentment and anguish, and now, in some kind of half-witted state, I imagine him, as I knew, I saw him. I remember his sharp eyes - they saw through everything - and the movements of his fingers, always as if sculpting something out of thin air, his conversations, jokes, peasants' favorite words and some indefinite voice of his. And I see how much life this man embraced, how inhumanly smart and creepy he is. I saw him once in a way that perhaps no one had seen: I was walking to Gaspra along the seashore and under the Yusupov estate, on the very shore, among the stones, I noticed his small angular figure, in a crumpled gray rag and a crumpled hat. He sits, propping his cheekbones with his hands, and the silver hair of his beard blows between his fingers, and looks into the distance, into the sea, and greenish waves obediently roll up to his feet, caress, as if telling something about themselves to the old sorcerer. The day was colorful, the shadows of the clouds crawled over the stones, and together with the stones the old man first brightened, then darkened. And he also seemed to me an ancient, revived stone that knows all beginnings and goals, thinks about when and what will be the end of stones and grasses of the earth, sea water and man and the whole world, from stone to the sun. And the sea is a part of his soul, and everything around is from him, from him. (M. Gorky.)
The old poplar has seen a lot in its lifetime! Long ago, a thunderstorm split the top of a poplar; but the tree did not die, coped with the disease, throwing up two trunks instead of one. Spreading boughs, like old hooked fingers, stretched out to the ridge of the boarded roof, as if they were about to grab the house in an armful. In summer, rope shoots of hops curled thickly on the branches. The poplar was majestic and huge, called the Holy Tree by the Old Believers. The winds bent it, mercilessly slashed with hail, winter blizzards twisted, covering the fragile shoots of juveniles on mature branches with a crust of ice. And then he, all gray-haired from hoarfrost, tapping branches like bones, stood silent, through and through with a fierce wind. And rarely did any of the people look at him, as if he was not even on earth. Unless the crows, flying from the village to the floodplain, rested on its two-headed peak, blackening with clods. But when spring came and the old man, reviving, spread the brown juices of sticky buds, the first to meet the southern greenhouse, and his roots, penetrating into the depths of the earth, carried life-giving juices into the powerful trunk, he somehow immediately all dressed up in fragrant greens. And noisy, noisy! Quietly, peacefully, with a kind of senile wise buzzing. Then everyone saw him, and everyone needed him: both the peasants who, on hot days, sat under his shadow, rubbing the difficult life in their callused palms, and random travelers, and children. He greeted everyone with coolness and gentle trembling of foliage. Bees flew to him, picking up viscous tar on their paws, so that later they could patch holes in their hives, shaggy fat bumblebees sat out in the heat in its foliage. Chatty magpies made their simple nests on it. (According to A. Cherkasov.)
1516. The sea sent a piercing moisture to the land. In the cold, wet twilight, people loitered along the embankment, gathered in groups under the lamps, dispersed in order to gather again on the lighted patch, look at each other, stand, smoke a cigarette, look at the dark sea. Otava did not want to return to the people. Rest in solitude - the only thing he wanted now. Therefore, immediately turning to the side, past the familiar old plane tree, along the path paved with white tiles, he headed into silent darkness. There was a strange emptiness in his chest, in his head. He walked quickly, wide white slabs lay firmly under his feet, snatches of people's conversations came from behind, the sound of the sea rolled in, but the farther he walked, the greater and greater silence lay behind his shoulders, it was only audible how slowly the sea still breathed somewhere far away. and the heels of his shoes clattered on the hard tiles. The road climbed into the mountains. She laid down on the dark earth in wide coils, pushing bushes, trees and even houses aside. It was a typical highway for cars to make it easier for them to climb, but it was not at all suitable for pedestrians. Instead of a normal forward movement, I had to wind back and forth along the serpentines, the same trees, the same houses, the same street lamps, go around from below, then from above, and if for a car from a fast layering of such slow turns, in the end, all the same If an upward movement was obtained, then for people, especially at night, it seemed like a senseless wandering in search of something unknown. (According to P. Zagrebelny.)
1518. Reader, are you familiar with those small noble estates that our Ukraine abounded twenty-five, thirty years ago? Now they come across rarely, and in ten years the last of them, perhaps, will disappear without a trace. A flowing pond, overgrown with willows and reeds, a roost of busy ducks, to which a cautious teal occasionally joins; behind the pond, a garden with alleys of lindens, of this beauty and honor of our black-earth plains, with dead ridges of wild strawberries, with a continuous thicket of gooseberries, currants, raspberries, in the midst of which, in the dark hour of the motionless midday heat, the motley handkerchief of a yard girl will certainly flash and her piercing voice will ring out; right there is a barn on chicken legs, a greenhouse, a poor vegetable garden, with a flock of sparrows on stamens and a cat crouching near a failed well; further on - curly apple trees over high, green grass from the bottom, gray grass to the top, liquid cherries, pears, on which there is never a fruit; then flowerbeds with flowers - poppies, peonies, pansies, bushes of honeysuckle, wild jasmine, lilac and acacia, with incessant bee, bumblebee buzzing in thick, fragrant, sticky branches. Finally, the manor's house, one-story, on a brick foundation, with greenish glass in narrow frames, with a roof that was once painted, with a balcony from which jug-shaped railings fell out, with a crooked mezzanine, with a voiceless old dog in a hole under the porch. (According to I. S. Turgenev.)
1519. Many churches and bell towers raised their gilded heads to the sky. Like large green and yellow spots, dense groves and fields covered with bread could be seen between the houses. Unsteady living bridges ran across the Moscow River, trembling violently and covered with water when wagons or horsemen passed over them. Dozens of mill wheels were turning on the Yauza and on the Neglinnaya, one next to the other. These groves, fields and mills in the middle of the city gave the then Moscow a lot of picturesque. It was especially fun to look at the monasteries, which, with white fences and motley heaps of colored and gilded heads, seemed to be separate cities. Above all this confusion of churches, houses, groves and monasteries, the Kremlin churches and the newly decorated Church of the Intercession of the Mother of God, which John laid several years ago in memory of the capture of Kazan and which we now know under the name of St. Basil the Blessed, proudly rose. Great was the joy of the Muscovites when at last the scaffolding that covered this church fell, and it appeared in all its bizarre splendor, sparkling with gold and colors and surprising the eye with a variety of decorations. For a long time the people did not stop marveling at the skillful architect, who gave the Orthodox a spectacle that had never been seen before. Other Moscow churches were also good. The Muscovites did not spare either rubles or labors for the splendor of the houses of God. Expensive colors, gilding and large outdoor icons in full human height were visible everywhere. The Orthodox loved to decorate the houses of God, but on the other hand they cared little about the appearance of their houses. Almost all of their dwellings were built firmly and simply, from pine or oak beams, not even sheathed with boards, according to an old Russian proverb: a hut is not red with corners, but red with pies. (According to A.K. Tolstoy.)
1520. Suddenly some strange, measured sounds came from afar. It was not a human voice, not a horn, not a harp, but something like the sound of wind in a reed, if the reed could ring like glass or strings. The sounds flowed measuredly and mournfully, now in sonorous silver streams, then, like the noise of a shaking forest, they suddenly fell silent, as if in a gust of a steppe wind. In the distance, it seemed as if a new gust of a whirlwind began, turned into long, sadly pleasant overflows, and after a while ended abruptly, like a horse's snort. But then there were new sounds, much louder. It seemed that many bells were ringing non-stop. Sad, mournful sounds were replaced by cheerful ones, but it was not Russian sadness and not Russian daring. It reflected the wild grandeur of a nomadic tribe, and heroic raids, and the transitions of peoples from region to region, and longing for an unknown, primitive homeland. (According to A.K. Tolstoy.)
1521. Pushkin walked quickly, and then ran along the path along the lake, turned onto the dewy heavy grass, splashing his light trousers up to his knees, jumped over the bench and ended up in a linden alley. He lingered a little at the Virgin, who broke the jug, and for the umpteenth time marveled at the grace of her woeful posture. Now he was racing down the alley leading to the artificial ruins. The sun streak was replaced by a shadow, the skin had time to feel the touch of a warm beam and cold crypts ... He ran faster and faster, enjoying the wind at the huts and the crunch of sand under his shoes and not at all afraid that he would be discovered. He was wearing a cap of invisibility, he could not only rush along the alleys of the park, but also run into the palace, penetrate into the royal furnace. Reaching the tidy ruins created by the disciplined genius of one of the Tsarskoye Selo architects, he turned back towards the pond, but now he ran along the alley, through the grass and yellow flowers. How quickly everything in nature changed! In a few minutes the grass had time to dry, only silvery flattened drops of dew rested in the cuffs; the fog dissipated, and the Chesme Pillar, entwined with chains and arrows, proudly rose above the water, which shone like a mirror. And in a moment of the greatest delight before the morning and the sun, before the whole spring tense world and his participation in the miracle of life, Pushkin suddenly felt leaden fatigue. His knees buckled, and he almost collapsed against the dry foot of a leafy maple tree. It happened that he fell asleep easily and quickly, falling into sleep with palpable pleasure, but he had never experienced such bliss. He seemed to be returning to the security and irresponsibility of his existence. He was free, pure, unencumbered by anything, at peace with the highest peace of animal sinlessness. He had never hidden so well from those around him and from himself as in this dream in the middle of the flaming Tsarskoye Selo morning. (According to Yu. Nagibin.)
1533. How people did not try, having gathered in one small place several hundred thousand, to disfigure the land on which they huddled, how they did not stone the earth so that nothing would grow on it, how they did not clean off any breaking grass, how they did not smoke with stone coal and oil, no matter how they pruned the trees and drove out all the animals and birds, - spring was spring even in the city. The sun warmed, the grass, reviving, grew and turned green wherever it was not scraped off, not only on the lawns of the boulevards, but also between the slabs of stones, and birches, poplars, bird cherry blossomed their sticky and odorous leaves, lindens puffed out bursting buds; jackdaws, sparrows and doves were already happily preparing their nests in the spring, and flies were buzzing along the walls, warmed by the sun. Plants, and birds, and insects, and children were cheerful. But people - big, adult people - did not stop deceiving and torturing themselves and each other. People believed that sacred and important is not this spring morning, not this beauty of the world of God, given for the good of all beings, - beauty that disposes to peace, harmony and love, but sacred and important is what they themselves invented in order to rule each other. over another. (L. N. Tolstoy.)
1534. I returned home through the empty lanes of the village; the moon, full and red, like the glow of a fire, began to appear from behind the jagged horizon of houses; the stars shone calmly on the dark blue vault, and it became funny to me when I remembered that there were once wise people who thought that the luminaries of heaven take part in our insignificant disputes for a piece of land or for some fictitious rights! .. And that well? These lamps, lit, in their opinion, only to illuminate their battles and celebrations, burn with their former brilliance, and their passions and hopes have long been extinguished with them, like a light lit on the edge of the forest by a careless wanderer! But what strength of will gave them confidence that the whole sky with its countless inhabitants looks at them with participation, although mute, but unchanged! .. And we, their pitiful descendants, wandering the earth without conviction and pride, without fear, except for that involuntary fear that compresses the heart at the thought of an inevitable end, we are no longer capable of great sacrifices either for the good of mankind, or even for our own happiness, because we know its impossibility, and indifferently we pass from doubt to doubt, like our ancestors rushed from one delusion to another, having, like them, no hope, not even that indefinite, though true pleasure that the soul encounters in any struggle with people or with fate. (M. Yu. Lermontov.)
