So he returned to his room and pulled out a great dusty book, and began to read.

though my heart is made of lead yet I cannot choose but weep."

"Grandmother!" cried the child. "Oh, take me with you! I know you will disappear when the match is burned out.

Shivering with cold and hunger, she crept along, a picture of misery, poor little girl!

When the evening came the other tin soldiers were put away in their box, and the people of the house went to bed. Now the toys began to play among themselves at visits, and battles, and at giving balls. The tin soldiers rattled about in their box, for they wanted to play too, but they could not get the lid open.

A small boy shouted it and clapped his hands as the lid was lifted off their box on his birthday. He immediately set them up on the table.

and am only now listening to the sound of the joy-bells. I can see you again, and look into your honest, affectionate eyes. . . .

Every little trait is preserved in my heart. On that cool evening, when you took your cloak and threw it around me, it warmed not only my body, but made my heart glow still more ardently.

a phantasy woven of joy and sunshine,

I myself am making the usual visits, attending the theatre, and sitting alone once more in my own room, as if nothing had happened; and yet my head and heart are so full.

You pressed my hand, and said you would be a kind and sincere friend.

They took with them all his treasures, and lived happily with their sisters in their father's house.

"If you are ever threatened, just blow this whistle, and we will come to your aid!"

"Since I must die," answered she (looking upon him with her eyes all bathed in tears), "give me some little time to say my prayers."

But as for this little one here, it is the key to the closet at the end of the great hall on the ground floor.

so well that the youngest daughter began to think that the man's beard was not so very blue after all, and that he was a mighty civil gentleman.

he fair Child slumbered.

"I'm not afraid of that," said the prince. "I shall penetrate the hedge and free the beautiful Brier-Rose."

, threw herself head foremost into the tub, and was instantly devoured by the ugly creatures she had ordered to be thrown into it for others

"May it please your royal highness, it is now about fifty years since I heard from my father, who heard my grandfather say, that there was then in this castle a princess, the most beautiful was ever seen; that she must sleep there a hundred years, and should be waked by a king's son, for whom she was reserved."

"Welcome, Madam Busybody! You are a fine piece of goods, you ill weed, who are enjoying my husband. So you are the lump of filth, the cruel bitch, that has caused my head to spin? Change your ways, for you are welcome in purgatory, where I will compensate you for all the damage you have done to me."

He was overjoyed, and he told Talia who he was, and how he had seen her, and what had taken place. When she heard this, their friendship was knitted with tighter bonds, and he remained with her for a few days.

, began to suck on Talia's fingers, and they sucked so much that the splinter of flax came out. Talia awoke as if from a long sleep, and seeing beside her two priceless gems, she held them to her breast, and gave them the nipple to suck, and the babies were dearer to her than her own life.

He lifted her in his arms, and carried her to a bed, where he gathered the first fruits of love. Leaving her on the bed, he returned to his own kingdom, where, in the pressing business of his realm, he for a time thought no more about this incident.

after having paid for this tub of sour wine with casks of tears,

she would incur great danger from a splinter of flax.

She is unsoiled.

"Snow White shall die," she cried, "even if it costs me my life."

They lifted her up, and, as they saw that she was laced too tightly, they cut the laces, then she began to breathe a little, and after a while came to life again.

And as a young bear just then came running by he stabbed it, and cut out its lung and liver and took them to the queen as proof that the child was dead.

"Thou art fairer than all who are here, lady queen. But more beautiful still is Snow White, as I ween."

What compelled the Grimms to concentrate on old German epics, tales, and literature was a belief that the most natural and pure forms of culture—those which held the community together—were linguistic and based in history.

When Jacob (b. 1785) and Wilhelm (b. 1786) began collecting folk tales and songs at the beginning of the nineteenth century, they were precocious students at the University of Marburg, still in their teens.

continually honed the tales so that they would resonate with a growing literary public.

The Grimms thought the stories and their morals emanated naturally from the German people in an oral tradition, and they wanted to preserve them before the tales were lost forever.

Turning to ask the rich beast what it could all mean, Bella found that he had disappeared, and in his place stood her long-loved prince!

"I don't hate you, and I should be very sorry never to see you any more,

Now she knew that he was really gentle in spite of his ferocious looks and his dreadful voice. So she answered that she was longing to see her home once more. On hearing this the rich beast seemed sadly distressed, and cried miserably.

I assure you it's not his fault that he is so ugly."

"Do you love me, Bella? Will you marry me?" "Oh! what shall I say?" cried Bella, for she was afraid to make the rich beast angry by refusing. "Say 'yes' or 'no' without fear," he replied. "Oh! no, Beast," said Bella hastily. "Since you won't, good-night, Bella," he said. And she answered, "Good-night, Beast," very glad to find that her refusal had not provoked him.

handsome prince

don't desert me till you have saved me from my cruel misery."

"Take your father into the next room, and help him to choose everything you think your brothers and sisters would like to have. You'll find two travelling-trunks there; fill them as full as you can. It's only just that you should send them something very precious as a remembrance of yourself."

but Bella was firm. As the time drew near she divided all her little possessions between her sisters, and said good-by to everything she loved, and when the fatal day came she encouraged and cheered her father as they mounted together the horse which had brought him back.

"No excuse would be necessary," answered the rich beast. "If she comes at all she must come willingly. On no other condition will I've her. See if any one of them is courageous enough, and loves you well enough to come and save your life. You seem to be an honest man, so I'll trust you to go home. I give you a month to see if either of your daughters will come back with you and stay here, to let you go free. If neither of them is willing, you must come alone, after bidding them good-by for ever, for then you'll belong to me.

Oh, Grandmother, how hairy you are!" "It's to keep me warmer, my child" "Oh, Grandmother, those long nails you have!"

"the Needles Road or the Pins Road?"

This characteristic of thought not only suggests the method of algebra, but even prompts the choice of symbols (letters, especially initial letters). By this "algebraic" method of thought we apprehend objects only as shapes with imprecise extensions;

If we start to examine the general laws of perception, we see that as perception becomes habitual, it becomes automatic. Thus, for example, all of our habits retreat into the area of the unconsciously automati

Imagistic thought does not, in any case, include all the aspects of art nor even all the aspects of verbal art. A change in imagery is not essential to the development of poetry.

The smallest child cried, "Here's a new one," and the others rejoiced

"You see, that's the way of the world."

I'll lead you out into the world and introduce you to the duck yard.

beauty of distant reading plus world literature: they go against the grain of national historiography.

you invest so much in individual texts only if you think that very few of them really matter.

is intersected and altered by another culture (from the core) that ‘completely ignores it’

Conjectures on World Literature

That’s the point: world literature is not an object, it’s a problem, and a problem that asks for a new critical method: and no one has ever found a method by just reading more texts. That’s not how theories come into being; they need a leap, a wager—a hypothesis, to get started.

“I thought I’d better eat him first.”

All in a flash, he saw the light.

That Piggy had a massive brain. He worked out sums inside his head, There was no book he hadn’t read, He knew what made an airplane fly, He knew how engines worked and why.

There once was a father who slaughtered a pig, and his children saw that.

The judge took the wise man's advice, and the boy grabbed the apple with a laugh.

that is, in the cultural origins and "childhood" of the German people—and the burgeoning efforts to create a literature tailored to the perceived needs of children.

By doing this I seek to reveal the embedded nature of these technical possibilities in the most obvious and non-obvious places, for they are attached to our imaginative plane and provide the supporting structure for much of good writing today. I use “good” here the fairy way: that which reflects possibility.

new ways of sensing primal and inexplicable wonder.

virtues of fairy tales through the techniques by which a dynamic universe is constellated to such a heightened degree that all things inside of the story exist on a plane so grammatically balanced

The Fairy Way has come to define my aesthetic approach to reading and reading as a 21st century author

which he had in so great Perfection, throughly qualified him to touch this weak superstitious Part of his Reader's Imagination

. They bring up into our Memory the Stories we have heard in our Child-hood, and favour those secret Terrours and Apprehensions to which the Mind of Man is naturally subject.

because he has no Pattern to follow in it, and must work altogether out of his own Invention. There is a very odd turn of Thought required for this sort of Writing, and it is impossible for a Poet to succeed in it

Such are Fairies, Witches, Magicians, Demons, and departed Spirits.