Yeats: 210 books

M. DE LORGNAC'S PRICE. One afternoon I sat alone in the little anteroom before the Queen MOther's cabinet. In front of me was an open door. The curtains of violet velvet, spangled with golden lilies, were half drawn, and beyond extended a long, narrow, and gloomy corridor, leading into the main salon...

As a pastor, do you feel like you’re wearing too many hats? If you’re a pastor, you know the tension of balancing (or trying to) the many roles and expectations that come with leading a church. But are you able to distinguish which roles are truly essential? And can you measure how you’re...

In this theatrical lament on age and thwarted aspirations, a faery child encounters the newlyweds Shawn and Mary Bruin at their home, shared with Maurteen Bruin and Bridget Bruin, Shawn's parents. The child, who at first is thought of by the Bruins as of gentle birth, denounces God and shocks Father Hart.

This book explores combinatorial problems and insights in quantum field theory. It is not comprehensive, but rather takes a tour, shaped by the author’s biases, through some of the important ways that a combinatorial perspective can be brought to bear on quantum field theory.  Among the outcomes...

Raccolta di 5 racconti che narrano le vicende del giovane Hanrahan, un tipico ragazzo irlandese dai capelli rossi, le cui peregrinazioni nella sua terra saranno caratterizzare da incontro con il gentil sesso ed esperienze sopranaturali. Libro in lingua originale inglese con traduzione in italiano.

My Dear "Maurice"-I was often in France before you were born or when you were but a little child. When I went for the first or second time Mallarmé had just written: "All our age is full of the trembling of the veil of the temple." One met everywhere young men of letters who talked...

I have found in an old diary a quotation from Stephane Mallarmé, saying that his epoch was troubled by the trembling of the veil of the Temple. As those words were still true, during the years of my life described in this book, I have chosen The Trembling of the Veil for its title. Except in one...

You will remember that afternoon in Calvados last summer when your black Persian 'Minoulooshe,' who had walked behind us for a good mile, heard a wing flutter in a bramble-bush? For a long time we called her endearing names in vain. She seemed resolute to spend her night among the brambles. She had...