Freud perhaps overhailed the book by calling Dostoevsky's masterpiece the greatest Western novel, but it strongly contends with Cervantes, Tolstoy, Balzac, Stendhal, Flaubert, Proust, Joyce, Mann, Lawrence, or anyone else.

Their interiors will also be repainted, while the non-instrumented area of the coach, which contains only a few seats, will be made to look snazzy.

I WOULD HAVE been nine or ten when my mother chased me up a thorn tree with a ceremonial hippo-hide whip. What my crime was, I forget. My mother was, and remains, a woman of exceptional forbearance. I must have done something so obnoxious as to beggar belief.

More strange than true: I never may believe these antique fables, nor these fairy toys.