93) In a less euphoric state of mind, but with an instinct of `instant recognition', Hoffman ponders, one year after, on what makes the atmosphere so unmistakably Romanian at Bucharest airport. Her translation attempts are wrapped in negative connotations: `crumpled, faded faces', a taxi driver that attaches himself to her, etc. Yet the pleasure of familiarity with the place (Hoffman, 1999, pp. 269Á 270) is still there. 2. Developments: cultural filtering
essence: Example 146. The primary thought remains obsessive with its inner power ever increasing; this is like an aggressive march of brutality, finally trampling everything to death. The smallest good intentions are drowned in, or choked by, this wild spontaneity. A human being seems to be the toy of demonic forces. The Finale of the Eighth Symphony (Lento tenuto e maestoso; a three-part compound form) is like funeral music. A lamenting, crumpled theme from the brass has no strength to stand up. The thought remains open both in its content and form like an 1 Herbert Connor. Eduard Tubin – est, svensk, kosmopolit. Svensk Tidskrift för Musikforskning 60 (1978): 1. unanswered question. Unexpectedly, there is a passionate gust of emotions (the subsidiary theme of the first movement) and after a sublime epic rise the lamentations expire. The truth of life has become an artistic truth.
"Covered in gauze and plaster and hardly able to move." "I wasn't referring to my most recent near-death experience," I said, growing irritated. "I was thinking of the others -- you can take your pick. If it weren't for you, I would be rotting away in the Forks cemetery." He winced at my words, but the haunted look didn't leave his eyes. "That's not the worst part, though," he continued to whisper. He acted as if I hadn't spoken. "Not seeing you there on the floor... crumpled and broken." His voice was choked. "Not thinking I was too late. Not even hearing you scream in pain -- all those unbearable memories that I'll carry with me for the rest of eternity. No, the very worst was feeling... knowing that I couldn't stop. Believing that I was going to kill you myself." "But you didn't." "I could have. So easily." I knew I needed to stay calm... but he was trying to talk himself into leaving me, and the panic fluttered in my lungs, trying to get out.
hitherto unconquerable Napoleon. That military genius, though not quite the cryptologic moron that it has been the fashion to portray him as being, certainly did not fully appreciate the importance of a tough cryptography. He depended upon a single, easy-to-solve system during most of his campaigns, including the Russian; this was his petit chiffre, a nomenclator of about 200 groups. Even without his generals' predilection for partial encipherments, the Napoleonic cryptograms must have crumpled before the assault of the Russian cryptanalysts. How the solutions helped the Russians is not known, but that they must have been of some assistance is indicated by the fact that the victorious Czar, Alexander I, cited them himself when reminiscing about the war. At a state dinner that he gave in Paris years later for the marshals of France, he mentioned having read secret French dispatches. Marshal Macdonald, who had commanded a corps for Napoleon, recalled that one of the
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