Books with author France Anatole

The Human Spirit in His Quest for Knowledge“I sought out the laws which govern nature, solid or ethereal, and after much pondering I perceived that the Universe had not been formed as its pretended Creator would have us believe; I knew that all that exists, exists of itself and not by the caprice of Iahveh; that the world is itself its own creator and the spirit its own God. Henceforth I despised Iahveh for his imposture, and I hated him because he showed himself to be opposed to all that I found desirable and good: liberty, curiosity, doubt.” - Anatole France, The Revolt of the AngelsArcade, a guardian angel of the lowest rank seeks knowledge and falls out of Heaven because of it. He meets other fallen beings who plot to dethrone God. Maurice is the human who Arcade should be guarding and he wants his guardian angel back. But is he ready to face the truth?,This book has been professionally formatted for e-readers and contains a bonus book club leadership guide and discussion questions. We hope you’ll share this book with your friends, neighbors and colleagues and can’t wait to hear what you have to say about it. For more great book club picks, check out : http://amzn.to/1A7cKKl Find all our our books for Kindle here: http://amzn.to/1PooxLl Sign up for the Xist Publishing Newsletter here.

Books are missing from the archbishop's shelves and the librarian is helpless to explain until the culprit is revealed: Arcade, the clergyman's guardian angel, has been educating himself. Immersion in works of philosophy and science has convinced Arcade that God is a cruel tyrant. Revolution is the only answer, and Arcade joins a host of fallen angels to mount a rebellion that proposes to install Satan on the throne of heaven.This 1914 novel by Nobel laureate Anatole France offers a brilliant satire of war, government, and religion. Published on the eve of World War I, the fable voices an ever-resonant protest against violence and despotism. The author's sense of humor brings a remarkably contemporary air to the Paradise Lost scenario, and stunning black-and-white illustrations by Frank C. Papé complement the tale's fantasy elements.

"Child Life in Town and Country" by Anatole France (translated by A. R. Allinson). Published by Good Press. Good Press publishes a wide range of titles that encompasses every genre. From well-known classics & literary fiction and non-fiction to forgotten−or yet undiscovered gems−of world literature, we issue the books that need to be read. Each Good Press edition has been meticulously edited and formatted to boost readability for all e-readers and devices. Our goal is to produce eBooks that are user-friendly and accessible to everyone in a high-quality digital format.

When her true love is abducted by mysterious creatures, a girl must summon the strength to save him From the moment they met as young children, Bee and George have been bound together by a deep love. But when George goes off on a quest to a forbidden lake, home to dangerous water nymphs, it is up to Bee to rescue him. On her adventure she meets Loc, the king of the dwarfs, who proves to be more kind and generous than the humans she knows. Even as he showers her with riches in an attempt to make her stay, Bee never loses sight of her purpose: finding George. She will do anything to get him back. A fairy tale for all ages, Bee: The Princess of the Dwarfs is a classic that has delighted children and adults alike for more than a century with its ebullient characters and wondrous worlds. This ebook has been professionally proofread to ensure accuracy and readability on all devices.

Setting on her golden hair a hood spread with pearls and tying round her waist the widow's girdle, the Countess of the White Moor entered the chapel where she prayed each day for the soul of her husband, killed by an Irish giant in single combat.That day she saw, on the cushion of her praying-stool, a white rose. At the sight of it she turned pale and her eyes grew dim; she threw her head back and wrung her hands. For she knew that when a Countess of the White Moor must die she finds a white rose on her stool.Knowing that the time had come for her to leave this world, where she had been within such a short space of time a wife, a mother, and a widow, she went to her room, where slept her son George, guarded by waiting women. He was three years old; his long eyelashes threw a pretty shade on his cheeks, and his mouth was like a flower. Seeing how small he was and how young, she began to cry."My little boy," she said in a faint voice, "my dear little boy, you will never have known me, and I shall never again see myself in your sweet eyes. Yet I nursed you myself, so as to be really your mother, and I have refused to marry the greatest knights for your sake."

She gave a glance at the armchairs placed before the chimney, at the tea-table, which shone in the shade, and at the tall, pale stems of flowers ascending above Chinese vases. She thrust her hand among the flowery branches of the guelder roses to make their silvery balls quiver. Then she looked at herself in a mirror with serious attention. She held herself sidewise, her neck turned over her shoulder, to follow with her eyes the spring of her fine form in its sheath-like black satin gown, around which floated a light tunic studded with pearls wherein sombre lights scintillated. She went nearer, curious to know her face of that day. The mirror returned her look with tranquillity, as if this amiable woman whom she examined, and who was not unpleasing to her, lived without either acute joy or profound sadness. On the walls of the large drawing-room, empty and silent, the figures of the tapestries, vague as shadows, showed pallid among their antique games and dying graces. Like them, the terra-cotta statuettes on slender columns, the groups of old Saxony, and the paintings of Sevres, spoke of past glories. On a pedestal ornamented with precious bronzes, the marble bust of some princess royal disguised as Diana appeared about to fly out of her turbulent drapery, while on the ceiling a figure of Night, powdered like a marquise and surrounded by cupids, sowed flowers. Everything was asleep, and only the crackling of the logs and the light rattle of Therese’s pearls could be heard. Turning from the mirror, she lifted the corner of a curtain and saw through the window, beyond the dark trees of the quay, the Seine spreading its yellow reflections. Weariness of the sky and of the water was reflected in her fine gray eyes. The boat passed, the 'Hirondelle', emerging from an arch of the Alma Bridge, and carrying humble travellers toward Grenelle and Billancourt. She followed it with her eyes, then let the curtain fall, and, seating herself under the flowers, took a book from the table. On the straw-colored linen cover shone the title in gold: 'Yseult la Blonde', by Vivian Bell. It was a collection of French verses composed by an Englishwoman, and printed in London. She read indifferently, waiting for visitors, and thinking less of the poetry than of the poetess, Miss Bell, who was perhaps her most agreeable friend, and whom she almost never saw; who, at every one of their meetings, which were so rare, kissed her, calling her "darling," and babbled; who, plain yet seductive, almost ridiculous, yet wholly exquisite, lived at Fiesole like a philosopher, while England celebrated her as her most beloved poet. Like Vernon Lee and like Mary Robinson, she had fallen in love with the life and art of Tuscany; and, without even finishing her Tristan, the first part of which had inspired in Burne-Jones dreamy aquarelles, she wrote Provencal verses and French poems expressing Italian ideas. She had sent her 'Yseult la Blonde' to "Darling," with a letter inviting her to spend a month with her at Fiesole. She had written: "Come; you will see the most beautiful things in the world, and you will embellish them."

Evariste Gamelin, painter, pupil of David, member of the Section du Pont-Neuf, formerly Section Henri IV, had betaken himself at an early hour in the morning to the old church of the Barnabites, which for three years, since 21st May 1790, had served as meeting-place for the General Assembly of the Section. The church stood in a narrow, gloomy square, not far from the gates of the Palais de Justice. On the façade, which consisted of two of the Classical orders superimposed and was decorated with inverted brackets and flaming urns, blackened by the weather and disfigured by the hand of man, the religious emblems had been battered to pieces, while above the doorway had been inscribed in black letters the Republican catchword of "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity or Death." Évariste Gamelin made his way into the nave; the same vaults which had heard the surpliced clerks of the Congregation of St. Paul sing the divine offices, now looked down on red-capped patriots assembled to elect the Municipal magistrates and deliberate on the affairs of the Section. The Saints had been dragged from their niches and replaced by the busts of Brutus, Jean-Jacques and Le Peltier. The altar had been stripped bare and was surmounted by the Table of the Rights of Man.

Books are missing from the archbishop's shelves and the librarian is helpless to explain until the culprit is revealed: Arcade, the clergyman's guardian angel, has been educating himself. Immersion in works of philosophy and science has convinced Arcade that God is a cruel tyrant. Revolution is the only answer, and Arcade joins a host of fallen angels to mount a rebellion that proposes to install Satan on the throne of heaven.This 1914 novel by Nobel laureate Anatole France offers a brilliant satire of war, government, and religion. Published on the eve of World War I, the fable voices an ever-resonant protest against violence and despotism. The author's sense of humor brings a remarkably contemporary air to the Paradise Lost scenario, and stunning black-and-white illustrations by Frank C. Papé complement the tale's fantasy elements.