📘 ❞ The Golden Compass ❝ رواية ــ Philip Pullman اصدار 1996
Stories and novels - 📖 ❞ رواية The Golden Compass ❝ ــ Philip Pullman 📖
█ _ Philip Pullman 1996 حصريا رواية The Golden Compass عن New York : Alfred A Knopf 2024 Compass : Compass Lyra and her dæmon moved through the darkening hall, taking care to keep to one side, out of sight kitchen three great tables that ran length hall were laid already, silver glass catching what little light there was, long benches pulled out ready for guests Portraits former Masters hung high up in the gloom along walls Lyra reached dais looked back at the open door, and, seeing no one, stepped beside table places here were with gold, not silver, fourteen seats oak but mahogany chairs velvet cushions Lyra stopped Master’s chair flicked biggest glass gently a fingernail sound rang clearly “You’re this seriously,” whispered “Behave yourself ” Her dæmon’s name was Pantalaimon, he currently form a moth, a dark brown so as show darkness “They’re making too much noise hear from kitchen,” “And the Steward doesn’t come till first bell Stop fussing ” Stories novels مجاناً PDF اونلاين هذا القسم يحتوي علي العديد من القصص والروايات باللغة الإنجليزية This section contains many stories English (Stories novels) والروايات: الرواية هي سرد نثري طويل يصف شخصيات خيالية أو واقعية وأحداثاً شكل قصة متسلسلة كما أنها أكبر الأجناس القصصية حيث الحجم وتعدد الشخصيات وتنوع الأحداث وقد ظهرت أوروبا بوصفها جنساً أدبياً مؤثراً القرن الثامن عشر والرواية حكاية تعتمد السرد بما فيه وصف وحوار وصراع بين وما ينطوي عليه ذلك تأزم وجدل وتغذيه A novel is relatively work narrative fiction, normally written prose form, which typically published book present English word fiction derives Italian novella "new", "news", or "short story something new", itself Latin novella, singular noun use neuter plural novellus, diminutive novus, meaning "new" Walter Scott made distinction between novel, (as saw it) "events are accommodated ordinary train human events modern state society" romance, defined "a fictitious verse; interest turns upon marvellous uncommon incidents"
The Golden Compass
Lyra and her dæmon moved through the darkening hall, taking care to
keep to one side, out of sight of the kitchen. The three great tables that
ran the length of the hall were laid already, the silver and the glass
catching what little light there was, and the long benches were pulled
out ready for the guests. Portraits of former Masters hung high up in the
gloom along the walls. Lyra reached the dais and looked back at the
open kitchen door, and, seeing no one, stepped up beside the high table. The places here
were laid with gold, not silver, and the fourteen seats were not oak benches but
mahogany chairs with velvet cushions.
Lyra stopped beside the Master’s chair and flicked the biggest glass gently with a
fingernail. The sound rang clearly through the hall.
“You’re not taking this seriously,” whispered her dæmon. “Behave yourself.”
Her dæmon’s name was Pantalaimon, and he was currently in the form of a moth, a
dark brown one so as not to show up in the darkness of the hall.
“They’re making too much noise to hear from the kitchen,” Lyra whispered back. “And
the Steward doesn’t come in till the first bell. Stop fussing.”
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