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“25. Flowering trees The blossom of the pear tree is the most prosaic, vulgar thing in the world. The less one sees this particular blossom the better...”

Quote by Sei Shōnagon

Book:The pillow book
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The pillow book

Written by Sei Shonagon, this book offers a unique glimpse into the court life and societal norms of Heian period Japan through a series of personal anecdotes, reflections, and observations. It covers a wide range of topics, including fashion, literature, nature, and the author's own experiences. more

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Sei Shōnagon

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“Среди русских интеллигентов, как уже многими замечен, есть порядочное количество диковинных людей,..которые сумеют героически, не дрогнув ни одним мускулом, глядеть прямо в лицо смерти, которые способны ради идеи терпеливо переносить невообразимые лишения и страдания, равные пытке, но зато эти люди теряются от высокомерности швейцара, съёживаются от окрика прачки, а в полицейский участок входят с томительной и робкой тоской”

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Book:Yama: The Pit
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“The Empress Dowager, the man continued, was much distressed, and had given orders to stop the fighting; the Boxers were fools... Then the soldier waved a farewell, and retreated cautiously, picking his way back through the ruins and débris. Several times he stopped no raised the head of some dead man that lay there, victim to our rifles, and peered at the face to see if it was recognisable. In five days we have accounted for very many killed and wounded, and numbers still lie in the exposed positions where they fell. The disappearing figure of that man was the end to the last clue we came across regarding the meaning of this sudden quiet. The shadows gradually lengthened and night suddenly fell, and around us there was nothing but these strangely silent ruins. There was barricade for barricade, loophole for loophole, and sandbag for sandbag. What has been levelled to the ground by fire has been heaped up once more so that the ruins themselves may bring more ruin! But although we exhausted ourselves with questions, and many of us hoped against hope, the hours sped slowly by and no message came. The Palace, enclosed in its pink walls, had sunk to sleep, or forgotten us - or, perhaps, had even found that there could be no truce. Then midnight came, and as we were preparing, half incredulously, to go to sleep, we truly knew. Crack, crack, went the first shots from some distant barricade, and bang went an answering rifle on our side. Awakened by these echoes, the firing grew naturally and mechanically to the storm of sound we have become so accustomed to, and the short truce was forgotten. It is no use; we must go through to the end.”

SiegeOfficerTruceProsaicBoxer Rebellion
Author:Putnam Weale, B. L. (Bertram Lenox)
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