A beautifully packaged edition of one of García Márquez's most beloved novels, with never-before-seen color illustrations by the Chilean artist Luisa Rivera and an interior design created by the author's son, Gonzalo García Barcha. In their youth, Florentino Ariza and Fermina Daza fall passionately in love. When Fermina eventually chooses to marry a wealthy, well-born doctor, Florentino is devastated, but he is a romantic. As he rises in his business career he whiles away the years in 622 affairs—yet he reserves his heart for Fermina. Her husband dies at last, and Florentino purposefully attends the funeral. Fifty years, nine months, and four days after he first declared his love for Fermina, he will do so again.

First book in a new series from USA Today bestselling author Catherin Bruns! Penne Dreadful, the first in the Italian Chef Mystery books, finds Tessa Esposito embroiled in a hot investigation. Tomato sauce isn't the only thing that runs red... A delicious new cozy mystery that is: For fans of Joanne Fluke and Susan Furlong For readers of cozy mysteries and food mysteries Includes delicious recipes Local Italian chef Tessa Esposito is struggling to get back on her feet following her husband's fatal accident. And when the police knock on Tessa's door, things just get worse. They've discovered Dylan's death wasn't an accident after all, and they need Tessa to start filling in the blanks. Who would want her beloved husband dead, and why? With the investigation running cold, Tessa decides it's time to save her sanity by reconnecting with her first love—cooking. And maybe the best way back into the kitchen is to infiltrate Dylan's favorite local pizza parlor, which also happens to be the last place he was seen before he died. Tessa has never been a fan of detective novels, but even she can see that the anchovies aren't the only thing that stink inside the small family business. And with suspects around every corner, Tessa finds that her husband's many secrets might land her in hot water.

Presents an introduction to the ideas of major Western philosophers, including Aristotle, Augustine, John Locke, and Karl Marx.

The sense of difficulty, and indeed of awe, with which a scholar approaches the task of translating the Agamemnon depends directly on its greatness as poetry. It is in part a matter of diction. The language of Aeschylus is an extraordinary thing, the syntax stiff and simple, the vocabulary obscure, unexpected, and steeped in splendour. Its peculiarities cannot be disregarded, or the translation will be false in character. Yet not Milton himself could produce in English the same great music, and a translator who should strive ambitiously to represent the complex effect of the original would clog his own powers of expression and strain his instrument to breaking. But, apart from the diction in this narrower sense, there is a quality of atmosphere surrounding the Agamemnon which seems almost to defy reproduction in another setting, because it depends in large measure on the position of the play in the historical development of Greek literature.