Презентация, доклад на тему Урок английского языка на тему My Favourite Book

wonderful things
in the world.

for us upon the platform.
“No, we have no news of any kind,” said Dr. Mortimer in answer to my friend’s questions. “I can swear to one thing, and that is that we have not been shadowed during the last two days. We have never gone out without keeping a sharp watch, and no one could have escaped our notice.”
“You have always kept together, I presume?”
“Except yesterday afternoon. I usually give up one day to pure amusement when I come to town, so I spent it at the Museum of the College of Surgeons.”
“And I went to look at the folk in the park,” said Baskerville. “But we had no trouble of any kind.”
“It was imprudent, all the same,” said Holmes, shaking his head and looking very grave. “I beg, Sir Henry, that you will not go about alone. Some great misfortune will befall you if you do. Did you get your other boot?”
“No, sir, it is gone forever.”
“Indeed. That is very interesting. Well, good-bye,” he added as the train began to glide down the platform. “Bear in mind, Sir Henry, one of the phrases in that queer old legend which Dr. Mortimer has read to us, and avoid the moor in those hours of darkness when the powers of evil are exalted.”
I looked back at the platform when we had left it far behind, and saw the tall, austere figure of Holmes standing motionless and gazing after us.

Arthur Conan Doyle
The Hound of the Baskervilles

said the King.
‘Nearly two miles high,’ added the Queen.
‘Well, I shan’t go, at any rate,’ said Alice: ‘besides, that’s not a regular rule: you invented it just now.’
‘It’s the oldest rule in the book,’ said the King.
‘Then it ought to be Number One,’ said Alice.
The King turned pale, and shut his note-book hastily. ‘Consider your verdict,’ he said to the jury, in a low, trembling voice.
‘There’s more evidence to come yet, please your Majesty,’ said the White Rabbit, jumping up in a great hurry; ‘this paper has just been picked up.’
‘What’s in it?’ said the Queen.
‘I haven’t opened it yet,’ said the White Rabbit, ‘but it seems to be a letter, written by the prisoner to — to somebody.’
‘It must have been that,’ said the King, ‘unless it was written to nobody, which isn’t usual, you know.’
‘Who is it directed to?’ said one of the jurymen.

Lewis Carroll
Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

answer.
The old lady pulled her spectacles down and looked over them about the room;
then she put them up and looked out under them.
She seldom or never looked through them for so small a thing as a boy;
they were her state pair, the pride of her heart, and were built for "style", not service-she could have seen through a pair of stove-lids just as well.
She looked perplexed for a moment, and then said, not fiercely, but still loud enough for the furniture to hear:
"Well, I lay if I get hold of you I'll-"
She did not finish, for by this time she was bending down and punching under the bed with the broom, and so she needed breath to punctuate the punches with.

Mark Twain
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer

all times, Michael Lermontov was born in Moscow in the family of a nobleman. He spent his childhood and youth in Tarckany, in the province of Penza. In 1830 Lermontov entered the Moscow University, but very soon he had to leave it. Then he entered SU Petersburg School of Cavalry Cadets. He finished it and served in the Hussar Regiment of the Imperial Guard.
In 1837 the poet was exiled to the Caucasus for his poem on Pushkin's death. In 1840 Lermontov was exiled to the Caucasus for the second time. He was provoked into personal quarrel with his schoolmate. The quarrel led to a duel. On July 15th, 1841 the poet was killed. He was not 27 at that time.
In 1837 the poet was exiled to the Caucasus for his poem on Pushkin's death. In 1840 Lermontov was exiled to the Caucasus for the second time. He was provoked into personal quarrel with his schoolmate. The quarrel led to a duel. On July 15th, 1841 the poet was killed. He was not 27 at that time.
Lermontov began writing when he was very young. One of his first writings to be published was his verse tale "Hadji Abrek". But he won fame as a poet after his poem on Pushkin's death was published. Lermontov's poems "Demon", "Mtsyri", his great novel "A Hero of our time" and his play "Masquerade" are masterpieces of Russian literature. Whether he wrote poetry, drama or prose, the stamp of his genius was to be found on his works. Lermontov's influence as a poet and a thinker on all Russian writes can't be overestimated.

Michael Lermontov

the most outstanding Russians. He was the greatest Russian poet and writer. Pushkin devoted his life to writing poems. The young Alexander's first poems appeared when he was fifteen, and by the time he left school he was regarded as a rival by the literary leaders of that time. Pushkin was the first poet who touched problems that were important for Russia and its people. Because of that he was sent to exile a few times.
Pushkin wrote a lot of poems and novels. Among his famous ones are: Eugenij Onegin, Ruslan and Lyudmila and others. Children like to read his fairy tales and watch wonderful cartoons based on them. When I was a child I read all the fairy tales by this talented poet. First my grandmother read them for me, but then when 1 learnt to read, I read his tales myself. Most of Pushkin's best works are studied at school. There is a statue to Pushkin in Moscow at Pushkin Square Young and old people gather by the statue, read poems and just meet friends.
Pushkin is respected not only in Russia, but all over the world. His novels and poems have been translated into many languages and arc enjoyed by foreigners.

Chekhov. In my opinion, he is the greatest Russian dramatist and short story writer. I'm never tired of reading and rereading his plays and humorous stories. Chekhov was born in 1860 in Taganrog.
In 1879 he went to Moscow, where he studied medicine. Though he practised little as a doctor in his lifetime, he was prouder of his medical knowledge than of his writing talent. While in college, Chekhov wrote humorous sketches for comic papers to support his family. He collected the best ones into a volume Motley Stories, in 1886.
The book attracted the attention of the publisher of the Novoje Vremja, Russia's largest paper, and Chekhov was asked to contribute stories regularly. Chekhov, as an established writer, was able to develop a style of his own. Though he never gave up writing comic stories, he began working in a more serious vein. In 1887 Ivanov, his first play, established Chekhov as a dramatist. From then on, he concentrated on writing plays, as well as short stories. Chekhov was seriously ill. He had tuberculosis and knew what it meant. By 1892 his health was so bad that he was afraid to spend another winter in Moscow. He bought a small estate near the village of Melikhovo, 50 miles from Moscow. He spent 5 years there, and those were happy years in spite of the illness.

foreign literatures that are very dear to me. In Russian literature I value Ivan Turgenev.
highly. For me he is a real intellectual and aristocrat, a man of culture, devoted to literature, music and painting. Though he lived abroad for a long time he didn't stop to be a Russian writer for a moment.
He created a number of national characters in his books. The image of urgency's woman, deeply feeling, faithful and tender is an ideal of a Russian woman for me. It doesn't lose its charm even today. Turgenev's descriptions of nature are delightful too. Take for example his "Byezhin Prairie", "Torrents of spring" etc.
Turgenev's prose is very poetic.
His style is perfect; his dialogues are easy-read, interesting, life-like, and yet always significant. One may think that Turgenev is too balanced, too poetic for the new age, but one must admit that these are the qualities we badly lack today.

famous ever. Among the most famous of his plays are tragedies, the comedies and the historical plays.

William Shakespeare

in the middle of 19th century

Bronte Sisters

on country life,
love and national pride

Robert Burns

about Mrs. Marple

Agatha Christy

the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips’ red;
If snow be white; why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks,
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go -
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
W. Shakespeare