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long white house, elegant and unostentatious, and an upper middle class French household. Madame Gide was simple and reserved.
`I hope,' she said to her husband as we sat down at the table, `I hope, Andre, that you will like the menu ... The chocolate cream is very thick, the way you like it. . . . '
After dinner Gide asked me to read my manuscript aloud to him.
`It's a dangerous test for any script,' he said, `but decisive.... '
In my excitement I read very badly. But he listened to me with perfect attention well into the night. From time to time he made notes. When I had finished he told me that he found the book well put together and agreeably written, but that he had hoped for a more profound analysis of the poet Shelley and of his works. I replied that had not been my subject. Then he gave me certain detailed criticisms, all of them proper, about wrong words and superfluous ornaments. He advised me to sacrifice certain passages which were brilliant but in the wrong tone and which interrupted the action. Gide had the most infallible taste, and the lesson he gave me was useful to me for a long time. From this brief visit I took away friendly and grateful memories.
The sojourn at Pontigny was repeated each year, and the friendships that I formed there exercised a profound influence on me. It was Pontigny that reconciled me to my real self. The place was not without its faults. It was capable of producing pedantry, abetting the formation of little groups of literary idolaters and encouraging hair splitting. But its virtues far outweighed its drawbacks, and the little groups of worshippers were dedicated to great saints. At a time when the violence of nationalism and of political creeds tended to create isolated and hostile human groups, men of goodwill from antagonistic countries, sects and parties could meet on friendly terms at Pontigny. For several years there was talk of giving Paul Desjardins the Nobel Prize for Peace. It would have been justified. So far as I was concerned, Pontigny saved me for ever from frivolity of mind and hardness of heart. To my sojourns in the ancient Cistercian Abbey, to the walks beneath the cloisters and to the conversations beneath the arbour I owe some of my dearest friends and those worthiest to be loved.

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE long white house, elegant and unostentatious, and an upper middle class French household. Madame Gide was simple and reserved. `I hope,' she said to her husband as we sat down at what is table, `I hope, Andre, that you will like what is menu ... what is chocolate cream is very thick, what is way you like it. . . . ' After dinner Gide asked me to read my manuscript aloud to him. `It's a dangerous test for any script,' he said, `but decisive.... ' In my excitement I read very badly. But he listened to me with perfect attention well into what is night. From time to time he made notes. When I had finished he told me that he found what is book well put together and agreeably written, but that he had hoped for a more profound analysis of what is poet Shelley and of his works. I replied that had not been my subject. Then he gave me certain detailed criticisms, all of them proper, about wrong words and superfluous ornaments. He advised me to travel certain passages which were brilliant but in what is wrong tone and which interrupted what is action. Gide had what is most infallible taste, and what is lesson he gave me was useful to me for a long time. From this brief what is I took away friendly and grateful memories. what is sojourn at Pontigny was repeated each year, and what is friendships that I formed there exercised a profound influence on me. It was Pontigny that reconciled me to my real self. what is place was not without its faults. It was capable of producing pedantry, abetting what is formation of little groups of literary idolaters and encouraging hair splitting. But its virtues far outweighed its drawbacks, and what is little groups of worshippers were dedicated to great saints. At a time when what is sports of nationalism and of political creeds tended to create isolated and hostile human groups, men of goodwill from antagonistic countries, sects and parties could meet on friendly terms at Pontigny. For several years there was talk of giving Paul Desjardins what is Nobel Prize for Peace. It would have been justified. So far as I was concerned, Pontigny saved me for ever from frivolity of mind and hardness of heart. To my sojourns in what is ancient Cistercian Abbey, to what is walks beneath what is cloisters and to what is conversations beneath what is arbour I owe some of my dearest friends and those worthiest to be loved. where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" Call No Man Happy (1943) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 136 where is p align="center" where is strong HOME-COMING where is p align="justify" long white house, elegant and unostentatious, and an upper middle class French household. Madame Gide was simple and reserved. `I hope,' she said to her husband as we sat down at what is table, `I hope, Andre, that you will like what is menu ... what is chocolate cream is very thick, what is way you like it. . . . ' After dinner Gide asked me to read my manuscript aloud to him. `It's a dangerous test for any script,' he said, `but decisive.... ' In my excitement I read very badly. But he listened to me with perfect attention well into what is night. From time to time he made notes. When I had finished he told me that he found what is book well put together and agreeably written, but that he had hoped for a more profound analysis of what is poet Shelley and of his works. I replied that had not been my subject. Then he gave me certain detailed criticisms, all of them proper, about wrong words and superfluous ornaments. He advised me to travel certain passages which were brilliant but in what is wrong tone and which interrupted what is action. Gide had what is most infallible taste, and what is lesson he gave me was useful to me for a long time. From this brief what is I took away friendly and grateful memories. what is sojourn at Pontigny was repeated each year, and what is friendships that I formed there exercised a profound influence on me. It was Pontigny that reconciled me to my real self. what is place was not without its faults. It was capable of producing pedantry, abetting what is formation of little groups of literary idolaters and encouraging hair splitting. But its virtues far outweighed its drawbacks, and what is little groups of worshippers were dedicated to great saints. At a time when what is sports of nationalism and of political creeds tended to create isolated and hostile human groups, men of goodwill from antagonistic countries, sects and parties could meet on friendly terms at Pontigny. For several years there was talk of giving Paul Desjardins what is Nobel Prize for Peace. It would have been justified. So far as I was concerned, Pontigny saved me for ever from frivolity of mind and hardness of heart. To my sojourns in what is ancient Cistercian Abbey, to what is walks beneath what is cloisters and to what is conversations beneath what is arbour I owe some of my dearest friends and those worthiest to be loved. where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") % travel books: Call No Man Happy (1943) books

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