Every person in life has a favorite writer or poet. His works we can enthusiastically read and reread several times, and they become even more interesting and loved. This writer was for me A. S. Pushkin. I don't remember when I first heard his name, but it doesn't matter. The main thing is that his tales, poetry and prose, the characters in his works as if poured into my life and became part of it. I remember as a little girl, sympathized with the old man from "the Tale of the Golden fish", as I really wanted to be home the same cat who walks around a tree on a gold chain. I remember I wanted to be like the Queen, the "white Swan" from "the Tale of Tsar Saltan". As for the cartoon, created by "the Tale of the sleeping Princess and the seven knights", I learned the tale by heart - so I liked her characters. Of course, this was before I knew all these characters created by A. S. Pushkin. And only much later, when my mom was reading me poems about winter evening, and the Muse, and the Lyceum, and the nanny, and about autumn, and much more, I first heard about the author of these amazing poetry of Alexander Pushkin.
Since then I have had not parted. I was looking for in the library of his books and have reread them several times. I tried to be like the best heroines of his works. I remember when I first read the story "Dubrovsky" and to me it was hard to determine his attitude towards Her. I was also struck by the poem "Poltava", but not so much for its plot, but because of the pride of heroic warriors. Over time, I realized: what would be the work of Pushkin I don't read, my soul will remain elevated feeling of admiration and joy. Even if not all will be happy in the work, not all will end well, but still after a meeting with Pushkin in the heart for a long time remains a holiday. And this, I think, lies the power and the genius of my favorite poet. He loved his Homeland, native people, native word, woman, nature, as few could love, and was able to magnify in sincere poetry.
L) Nobody will buy this sct of tools. 2) None of his friends is going to apply for a visa to the UK. 3) Nobody is able to pay this money immediately. 4) How many sentences have you written? - No one. 5) He wanted to teach his cousin how to manage her money, but she had none at all. 6) I have three sisters but Jill has none. 7) Nobody is going to take part in this research. 8) Nonе of the applicants was able to cope with the test. 9) How many pies have you eaten? None. 10) Nobody of my friends has paid their tuition at the university.
Now we know that the venous blood from the systemic and portal circulation is brought to the right atrium of the heart During the systole of the ventricle the blood is pumped from the right ventricle into the pulmonary artery. The venous is brought to the through the In the lungs the blood discharges out carbon dioxide. When the oxygenated blood has passed the four pulmonary veins it is brought to the left atrium of the heart. Under the pressure in the left atrium the arterial blood which the pulmonary veins have brought to the heart is pumped into the left ventricle. During the prolonged contraction of the left ventricle, the so-called ventricular systole, the arterial blood is pumped into the aorta the main artery of the vascular system. When the left ventricle has pumped the arterial blood into the aorta it is carried through the arteries to all the parts of the body.
Since then I have had not parted. I was looking for in the library of his books and have reread them several times. I tried to be like the best heroines of his works. I remember when I first read the story "Dubrovsky" and to me it was hard to determine his attitude towards Her. I was also struck by the poem "Poltava", but not so much for its plot, but because of the pride of heroic warriors. Over time, I realized: what would be the work of Pushkin I don't read, my soul will remain elevated feeling of admiration and joy. Even if not all will be happy in the work, not all will end well, but still after a meeting with Pushkin in the heart for a long time remains a holiday. And this, I think, lies the power and the genius of my favorite poet. He loved his Homeland, native people, native word, woman, nature, as few could love, and was able to magnify in sincere poetry.