ᆚ Format Kindle Read ళ The Fountainhead For Free ᇪ ePUB Author Ayn Rand ሏ

ᆚ Format Kindle Read ళ The Fountainhead For Free ᇪ ePUB Author Ayn Rand ሏ ᆚ Format Kindle Read ళ The Fountainhead For Free ᇪ ePUB Author Ayn Rand ሏ Architecture, my friends, is a great art based on two cosmic principles Beauty and Utility In a broader sense, these are but part of the three eternal entities Truth, Love and Beauty Truth to the traditions of our Art, Love for our fellow men whom we are to serve, Beauty ah, Beauty is a compelling goddess to all artists, be it in the shape of a lovely woman or a building.Hm.Yes.In conclusion, I should like to say to you, who are about to embark upon your careers in architecture, that you are now the custodians of a sacred heritage.Hm.Yes.So, go forth into the world, armed with the three eternal enti armed with courage and vision, loyal to the standards this great school has represented for many years May you all serve faithfully, neither as slaves to the past nor as those parvenus who preach originality for its own sake, which attitude is only ignorant vanity May you all have many rich, active years before you and leave, as you depart from this world, your mark on the sands of time Guy Francon ended with a flourish, raising his right arm in a sweeping salute informal, but with an air, that gay, swaggering air which Guy Francon could always permit himself The huge hall before him came to life in applause and approval.A sea of faces, young, perspiring and eager, had been raised solemnly for forty five minutes to the platform where Guy Francon had held forth as the speaker at the commencement exercises of the Stanton Institute of Technology, Guy Francon who had brought his own person from New York for the occasion Guy Francon, of the illustrious firm of Francon Guy Francon, knight of the Legion of Honor of France, decorated by the governments of Great Britain, Belgium, Monaco and Siam Guy Francon, Stanton s greatest alumnus, who had designed the famous Frink National Bank Building of New York City, on the top of which, twenty five floors above the pavements, there burned in a miniature replica of the Hadrian Mausoleum a wind blown torch made of glass and the best General Electric bulbs.Guy Francon descended from the platform, fully conscious of his timing and movements He was of medium height and not too heavy, with just an unfortunate tendency to stoutness Nobody, he knew, would give him his real age, which was fifty one His face bore not a wrinkle nor a single straight line it was an artful composition in globes, circles, arcs and ellipses, with bright little eyes twinkling wittily His clothes displayed an artist s infinite attention to details He wished, as he descended the steps, that this were a co educational school.The hall before him, he thought, was a splendid specimen of architecture, made a bit stuffy today by the crowd and by the neglected problem of ventilation But it boasted green marble dados, Corinthian columns of cast iron painted gold, and garlands of gilded fruit on the walls the pineapples particularly, thought Guy Francon, had stood the test of years very well It is, thought Guy Francon, touching it was I who built this annex and this very hall, twenty years ago and here I am.The hall was packed with bodies and faces, so tightly that one could not distinguish at a glance which faces belonged to which bodies It was like a soft, shivering aspic made of mixed arms, shoulders, chests and stomachs One of the heads, pale, dark haired and beautiful, belonged to Peter Keating.He sat, well in front, trying to keep his eyes on the platform, because he knew that many people were looking at him and would look at him later He did not glance back, but the consciousness of those centered glances never left him His eyes were dark, alert, intelligent His mouth, a small upturned crescent faultlessly traced, was gentle and generous, and warm with the faint promise of a smile His head had a certain classical perfection in the shape of the skull, in the natural wave of black ringlets about finely hollowed temples He held his head in the manner of one who takes his beauty for granted, but knows that others do not He was Peter Keating, star student of Stanton, president of the student body, captain of the track team, member of the most important fraternity, voted the most popular man on the campus.The crowd was there, thought Peter Keating, to see him graduate,and he tried to estimate the capacity of the hall They knew of his scholastic record and no one would beat his record today Oh, well, there was Shlinker Shlinker had given him stiff competition, but he had beaten Shlinker this last year He had worked like a dog, because he had wanted to beat Shlinker He had no rivals today.Then he felt suddenly as if something had fallen down, inside his throat, to his stomach, something cold and empty, a blank hole rolling down and leaving that feeling on its way not a thought, just the hint of a question asking him whether he was really as great as this day would proclaim him to be He looked for Shlinker in the crowd he saw his yellow face and gold rimmed glasses He stared at Shlinker warmly, in relief, in reassurance, in gratitude It was obvious that Shlinker could never hope to equal his own appearance or ability he had nothing to doubt he would always beat Shlinker and all the Shlinkers of the world he would let no one achieve what he could not achieve Let them all watch him He would give them good reason to stare He felt the hot breaths about him and the expectation, like a tonic It was wonderful, thought Peter Keating, to be alive.His head was beginning to reel a little It was a pleasant feeling The feeling carried him, unresisting and unremembering, to the platform in front of all those faces He stood slender, trim, athletic and let the deluge break upon his head He gathered from its roar that he had graduated with honors, that the Architects Guild of America had presented him with a gold medal and that he had been awarded the Prix de Paris by the Society for Architectural Enlightenment of the U.S.A a four year scholarship at the Ecole des Beaux Arts in Paris.Then he was shaking hands, scratching the perspiration off his face with the end of a rolled parchment, nodding, smiling, suffocating in his black gown and hoping that people would not notice his mother sobbing with her arms about him The President of the Institute shook his hand, booming Stanton will be proud of you, my boy The Dean shook his hand, repeating a glorious futurea glorious futurea glorious future Professor Peterkin shook his hand, and patted his shoulder, saying and you ll find it absolutely essential for example, I had the experience when I built the Peabody Post Office Keating did not listen to the rest, because he had heard the story of the Peabody Post Office many times It was the only structure anyone had ever known Professor Peterkin to have erected, before he sacrificed his practice to the responsibilities of teaching A great deal was said about Keating s final project a Palace of Fine Arts For the life of him, Keating could not remember at the moment what that project was.Through all this, his eyes held the vision of Guy Francon shaking his hand, and his ears held the sounds of Francon s mellow voice as I have told you, it is still open, my boy Of course, now that you have this scholarshipyou will have to decidea Beaux Arts diploma is very important to a young manbut I should be delighted to have you in our office The banquet of the class of 22 was long and solemn Keating listened to the speeches with interest when he heard the endless sentences about young men as the hope of American Architecture and the future opening its golden gates, he knew that he was the hope and his was the future, and it was pleasant to hear this confirmation from so many eminent lips He looked at the gray haired orators and thought of how much younger he would be when he reached their positions, theirs and beyond them.Then he thought suddenly of Howard Roark He was surprised to find that the flash of that name in his memory gave him a sharp little twinge of pleasure, before he could know why Then then he remembered Howard Roark had been expelled this morning He reproached himself silently he made a determined effort to feel sorry But the secret glow came back, whenever he thought of that expulsion The event proved conclusively that he had been a fool to imagine Roark a dangerous rival at one time, he had worried about Roark than about Shlinker, even though Roark was two years younger and one class below him If he had ever entertained any doubts on their respective gifts, hadn t this day settled it all And, he remembered, Roark had been very nice to him, helping him whenever he was stuck on a problemnot stuck, really, just did not have the time to think it out, a plan or something Christ how Roark could untangle a plan, like pulling a string and it was openwell, what if he could What did it get him He was done for now And knowing this, Peter Keating experienced at last a satisfying pang of sympathy for Howard Roark.When Keating was called upon to speak, he rose confidently He could not show that he was terrified He had nothing to say about architecture But he spoke, his head high, as an equal among equals, just subtly diffident, so that no great name present could take offense He remembered saying Architecture is a great artwith our eyes to the future and the reverence of the past in our heartsof all the crafts, the most important one sociologicallyand, as the man who is an inspiration to us all has said today, the three eternal entities are Truth, Love and Beauty Then, in the corridors outside, in the noisy confusion of leave taking, a boy had thrown an arm about Keating s shoulders and whispered Run on home and get out of the soup and fish, Pete, and it s Boston for us tonight, just our own gang I ll pick you up in an hour Ted Shlinker had urged Of course you re coming, Pete No fun without you And, by the way, congratulations and all that sort of thing No hard feelings May the best man win Keating had thrown his arm about Shlinker s shoulders Keating s eyes had glowed with an insistent kind of warmth, as if Shlinker were his most precious friend Keating s eyes glowed like that on everybody He had said Thanks, Ted, old man I really do feel awful about that A.G.A medal I think you were the one for it, but you never can tell what possesses those old fogies And now Keating was on his way home through the soft darkness, wondering how to get away from his mother for the night.His mother, he thought, had done a great deal for him As she pointed out frequently, she was a lady and had graduated from high school yet she had worked hard, had taken boarders into their home, a concession unprecedented in her family.His father had owned a stationery store in Stanton Changing times had ended the business and a hernia had ended Peter Keating, Sr., twelve years ago Louisa Keating had been left with the home that stood at the end of a respectable street, an annuity from an insurance kept up accurately she had seen to that and her son The annuity was a modest one, but with the help of the boarders and of a tenacious purpose Mrs Keating had managed In the summers her son helped, clerking in hotels or posing for hat advertisements Her son, Mrs Keating had decided, would assume his rightful place in the world, and she had clung to this as softly, as inexorably as a leech.It s funny, Keating remembered, at one time he had wanted to be an artist It was his mother who had chosen a better field in which to exercise his talent for drawing Architecture, she had said, is such a respectable profession Besides, you meet the best people in it She had pushed him into his career, he had never known when or how It s funny, thought Keating, he had not remembered that youthful ambition of his for years It s funny that it should hurt him now to remember Well, this was the night to remember it and to forget it forever.Architects, he thought, always made brilliant careers And once on top, did they ever fail Suddenly, he recalled Henry Cameron builder of skyscrapers twenty years ago old drunkard with offices on some waterfront today Keating shuddered and walked faster.He wondered,as he walked, whether people were looking at him He watched the rectangles of lighted windows when a curtain fluttered and a head leaned out, he tried to guess whether it had leaned to watch his passing if it hadn t, some day it would some day, they all would.Howard Roark was sitting on the porch steps when Keating approached the house He was leaning back against the steps, propped up on his elbows, his long legs stretched out A morning glory climbed over the porch pillars, as a curtain between the house and the light of a lamppost on the corner.It was strange to see an electric globe in the air of a spring night It made the street darker and softer it hung alone, like a gap, and left nothing to be seen but a few branches heavy with leaves, standing still at the gap s edges The small hint became immense, as if the darkness held nothing but a flood of leaves The mechanical ball of glass made the leaves seem living it took away their color and gave the promise that in daylight they would be a brighter green than had ever existed it took away one s sight and left a new sense instead, neither smell nor touch, yet both, a sense of spring and space.Keating stopped when he recognized the preposterous orange hair in the darkness of the porch It was the one person whom he had wanted to see tonight He was glad to find Roark alone, and a little afraid of it. Congratulations, Peter, said Roark. OhOh, thanks Keating was surprised to find that he felt pleasure than from any other compliment he had received today He was timidly glad that Roark approved, and he called himself inwardly a fool for it I meando you know or He added sharply Has mother been telling you She has She shouldn t have Why not Look, Howard, you know that I m terribly sorry about your being Roark threw his head back and looked up at him. Forget it, said Roark. Ithere s something I want to speak to you about, Howard, to ask your advice Mind if I sit down What is it Keating sat down on the steps beside him There was no part that he could ever play in Roark s presence Besides, he did not feel like playing a part now He heard a leaf rustling in its fall to the earth it was a thin, glassy, spring sound.He knew, for the moment, that he felt affection for Roark an affection that held pain, astonishment and helplessness. You won t think, said Keating gently, in complete sincerity, that it s awful of me to be asking about my business, when you ve just been I said forget about that What is it You know, said Keating honestly and unexpectedly even to himself, I ve often thought that you re crazy But I know that you know many things about it architecture, I mean which those fools never knew And I know that you love it as they never will Well Well, I don t know why I should come to you, but Howard, I ve never said it before, but you see, I d rather have your opinion on things than the Dean s I d probably follow the Dean s, but it s just that yours means to me myself, I don t know why I don t know why I m saying this, either Roark turned over on his side, looked at him, and laughed It was a young, kind, friendly laughter, a thing so rare to hear from Roark that Keating felt as if someone had taken his hand in reassurance and he forgot that he had a party in Boston waiting for him. Come on, said Roark, you re not being afraid of me, are you What do you want to ask about It s about my scholarship The Paris prize I got Yes It s for four years But, on the other hand, Guy Francon offered me a job with him some time ago Today he said it s still open And I don t know which to take Roark looked at him Roark s fingers moved in slow rotation, beating against the steps. If you want my advice, Peter, he said at last, you ve made a mistake already By asking me By asking anyone Never ask people Not about your work Don t you know what you want How can you stand it, not to know You see, that s what I admire about you, Howard You always know Drop the compliments But I mean it How do you always manage to decide How can you let others decide for you But you see, I m not sure, Howard I m never sure of myself I don t know whether I m as good as they all tell me I am I wouldn t admit that to anyone but you I think it s because you re always so sure that I Petey Mrs Keating s voice exploded behind them Petey, sweetheart What are you doing there She stood in the doorway, in her best dress of burgundy taffeta, happy and angry. And here I ve been sitting all alone, waiting for you What on earth are you doing on those filthy steps in your dress suit Get up this minute Come on in the house, boys I ve got hot chocolate and cookies ready for you But, Mother, I wanted to speak to Howard about something important, said Keating But he rose to his feet.She seemed not to have heard She walked into the house Keating followed.Roark looked after them, shrugged, rose and went in also.Mrs Keating settled down in an armchair, her stiff skirt crackling. Well she asked What were you two discussing out there Keating fingered an ash tray, picked up a matchbox and dropped it, then, ignoring her, turned to Roark. Look, Howard, drop the pose, he said, his voice high Shall I junk the scholarship and go to work, or let Francon wait and grab the Beaux Arts to impress the yokels What do you think Something was gone The one moment was lost. Now, Petey, let me get this straight began Mrs Keating. Oh, wait a minute, Mother Howard, I ve got to weigh it carefully It isn t everyone who can get a scholarship like that You re pretty good when you rate that A course at the Beaux Arts you know how important that is I don t, said Roark. Oh, hell, I know your crazy ideas, but I m speaking practically, for a man in my position Ideals aside for a moment, it certainly is You don t want my advice, said Roark. Of course I do I m asking you But Keating could never be the same when he had an audience, any audience Something was gone He did not know it, but he felt that Roark knew Roark s eyes made him uncomfortable and that made him angry. I want to practice architecture, snapped Keating, not talk about it Gives you a great prestige the old Ecole Puts you above the rank and file of the ex plumbers who think they can build On the other hand, an opening with Francon Guy Francon himself offering it Roark turned away. How many boys will match that Keating went on blindly A year from now they ll be boasting they re working for Smith or Jones if they find work at all While I ll be with Francon he knew that his only chance to decide was to make the decision before he heard her she had stopped, looking at him, ready to turn and leave the room he knew it was not a pose she would leave if he wished it he wanted her to go he wanted it desperately He said Why, Mother, how can you say that Of course I want your opinion Whatwhat do you think She ignored the raw irritation in his voice She smiled. Petey, I never think anything It s up to you It s always been up to you Well he began hesitantly, watching her, if I go to the Beaux Arts Fine, said Mrs Keating, go to the Beaux Arts It s a grand place A whole ocean away from your home Of course, if you go, Mr Francon will take somebody else People will talk about that Everybody knows that Mr Francon picks out the best boy from Stanton every year for his office I wonder how it ll look if some other boy gets the job But I guess that doesn t matter Whatwhat will people say Nothing much, I guess Only that the other boy was the best man of his class I guess he ll take Shlinker No he gulped furiously Not Shlinker Yes, she said sweetly Shlinker But But why should you care what people will say All you have to do is please yourself And you think that Francon Why should I think of Mr Francon It s nothing to me Mother, you want me to take the job with Francon I don t want anything, Petey You re the boss He wondered whether he really liked his mother But she was his mother and this fact was recognized by everybody as meaning automatically that he loved her, and so he took for granted that whatever he felt for her was love He did not know whether there was any reason why he should respect her judgment She was his mother this was supposed to take the place of reasons. Yes, of course, Mother.ButYes, I know, butHoward It was a plea for help Roark was there, on a davenport in the corner, half lying, sprawled limply like a kitten It had often astonished Keating he had seen Roark moving with the soundless tension, the control, the precision of a cat he had seen him relaxed, like a cat, in shapeless ease, as if his body held no single solid bone Roark glanced up at him He said Peter, you know how I feel about either one of your opportunities Take your choice of the lesser evil What will you learn at the Beaux Arts Only Renaissance palaces and operetta settings They ll kill everything you might have in you You do good work, once in a while, when somebody lets you If you really want to learn, go to work Francon is a bastard and a fool, but you will be building It will prepare you for going on your own that much sooner Even Mr Roark can talk sense sometimes, said Mrs Keating, even if he does talk like a truck driver Do you really think that I do good work Keating looked at him, as if his eyes still held the reflection of that one sentence and nothing else mattered. Occasionally, said Roark Not often Now that it s all settled began Mrs Keating. II ll have to think it over, Mother Now that it s all settled, how about the hot chocolate I ll have it out to you in a jiffy She smiled at her son, an innocent smile that declared her obedience and gratitude, and she rustled out of the room.Keating paced nervously, stopped, lighted a cigarette, stood spitting the smoke out in short jerks, then looked at Roark. What are you going to do now, Howard I Very thoughtless of me, I know, going on like that about myself Mother means well, but she drives me crazy.Well, to hell with that What are you going to do I m going to New York Oh, swell To get a job To get a job Inin architecture In architecture, Peter That s grand I m glad Got any definite prospects I m going to work for Henry Cameron Oh, no, Howard Roark smiled slowly, the corners of his mouth sharp, and said nothing. Oh, no, Howard Yes But he s nothing, nobody any Oh, I know he has a name, but he s done for He never gets any important buildings, hasn t had any for years They say he s got a dump for an office What kind of future will you get out of him What will you learn Not much Only how to build For God s sake, you can t go on like that, deliberately ruining yourself I thoughtwell, yes, I thought you d learned something today I have Look, Howard, if it s because you think that no one else will have you now, no one better, why, I ll help you I ll work old Francon and I ll get connections and Thank you, Peter But it won t be necessary It s settled What did he say Who Cameron I ve never met him Then a horn screamed outside Keating remembered, started off to change his clothes, collided with his mother at the door and knocked a cup off her loaded tray. Petey Never mind, Mother He seized her elbows I m in a hurry, sweet heart A little party with the boys now, now, don t say anything I won t be late and look We ll celebrate my going with Francon he wanted to send that wire now, at once He scribbled it down on a piece of paper Katie dearest coming New York job Francon love ever Peter That night Keating raced toward Boston, wedged in between two boys, the wind and the road whistling past him And he thought that the world was opening to him now, like the darkness fleeing before the bobbing headlights He was free He was ready In a few years so very soon, for time did not exist in the speed of that car his name would ring like a horn, ripping people out of sleep He was ready to do great things, magnificent things, things unsurpassed ininoh, hellin architecture.The revolutionary literary vision that sowed the seeds of Objectivism, Ayn Rand s groundbreaking philosophy, and brought her immediate worldwide acclaim.This modern classic is the story of intransigent young architectHoward Roark, whose integrity was as unyielding as graniteof Dominique Francon, the exquisitely beautiful woman who loved Roark passionately, but married his worst enemyand of the fanatic denunciation unleashed by an enraged society against a great creator.As fresh today as it was then, Rands provocative novel presents oneof the most challenging ideas in all of fictionthat mans ego is the fountainhead of human progressA writer of great power She has a subtle and ingenious mind and the capacity of writing brilliantly, beautifully, bitterlyThis is the only novel of ideas written by an American woman that I can recall The New York Times The Fountainhead IMDb An uncompromising, visionary architect struggles to maintain his integrity and individualism despite personal, professional economic pressures conform popular standards Wikipedia The is a novel by Russian American author Ayn Rand, her first major literary successThe s protagonist, Howard Roark, an individualistic young who designs modernist buildings refuses compromise with architectural establishment unwilling accept innovation Roark embodies what Rand believed be the ideal man, struggle reflects Leonard Peikoff on FREE shipping qualifying offers revolutionary vision that sowed seeds of Goodreads John H Sneed Brett, reading entertainment If story not entertaining, don t read it Come back in five years give another try Your personal SparkNotes Fountainhead was published Rotten Tomatoes In this adaptation novel, Gary Cooper stars as fiercely independent Rather than ideals, takes menial work quarryman Objectivism, groundbreaking philosophy, brought immediate worldwide acclaim This modern classic intransigent whose unyielding graniteof Dominique Plot Overview brilliant architect, expelled architecture school for refusing follow outdated traditions He goes New York Cameron, disgraced whom admires schoolmate, Peter Keating, movesAyn n born Alisa Zinovyevna Rosenbaum February OS January March , writer philosopher She known two best selling novels, Atlas Shrugged, developing Welcome AynRand AynRand official website Institute ARI source information life, writings novelist Who Is Objective Standard philosopher, creator which she called philosophy living earth most widely novels are Fountainhead, about uncompromising role mind human life happens world when thinkers Biography, Books, Facts Britannica perhaps th century example type Her version egoism, expounded Shrugged Virtue Selfishness collection essays, rather confusing mixture appeals self interest ideas Objectivism America controversial individualist bold woman produced works fusing fiction like have sold millions copies continue Inspirational quotes On Life Capitalism A creative man motivated desire achieve, beat others Achievement your happiness only moral purpose happiness, pain or mindless indulgence, proof integrity, since result loyalty achievement values Author Shrugged About pre St Petersburg prosperous Jewish family When Bolsheviks requisitioned pharmac Here What Wrong Philosophy Many articles been written wrong But, my knowledge, none them presents accurately So I thought would helpful write one does Here held existence exists, Stanford Encyclopedia Philosophy Jun outlined comprehensive including epistemology theory art, essays We Living, With publication achieved spectacular enduring success Objectivism philosophical system developed RandRand expressed fiction, notably later non books Institute originated, About Biography Galt Dagny Taggart Hank Rearden heroes famous because they re unique stories, full drama intrigue, portray businessmen, inventors, architects, workers scientists noble, passionate figures Individual Rights You know critics desperate accuse you hypocrisy without bothering investigate stated principles desperation especially palpable if ve explained how those apply very action being criticized Rand, Internet intellectual twentieth Born Russia educated there, immigrated United States after graduating from university helped turn US into selfish days agoThe made selfishness heroic caring weakness nearly perfect its immorality, makes size audience all Quotes BrainyQuote Enjoy at BrainyQuote Quotations Writer, Share friends Do let fire go out, spark irreplaceable hopeless swamps quite, yet, hero soul perish lonely frustration deserved never able reach Philosopher, Writer Biography Early Years Alissa Zinovievna Petersburg, oldest daughter parents eventually avowed atheist spent How greedy agoOnly rarely history do writers transform us become less nation s, Harriet Beecher Stowe eBooks, Audiobooks, Barnes informed dense still impact political List Works, Study Guides Essays Russia, During younger lived comfortable, affluent, middle class father Fronz had chemist quotas Jews studying mother Anna subscribed Times Sep among greatest word mouth hits publishing Society Connect Grow Join community explore fascinating Atlas Books INTRODUCTION art creation reality according artist metaphysical value judgments By nature, therefore, statue symphony require tolerate explanatory preface contained universe, aloof commentary, beckoning reader enter, perceive, respond What Happens Take Seriously Psychology People mistakenly believe Libertarians, Ron Paul followers And no, named They Constitutionalists dirty Articles, Photos, Videos Chicago Tribune Apr many ways, election victory capitalism, allegedly socialist president giving way real estate mogul understanding business unleash Sanction Triumph Worst Idea Econlib hated Indeed, list people love hate, d near top Liberals hate Education Facebook Reviews Photos hypocrite, off social benfits well shrugged bei ng dimensional absurd characters plain comical excuse story, rant pages rich individuals should run Wikiquote sunset sight skyline shapes sky over will visible Peikoff, designated heir, gave formal structure has changed lives continues influence culture politics Society Looking inspirational The Fountainhead

    • Format Kindle
    • 752 pages
    • 0452273331
    • The Fountainhead
    • Ayn Rand
    • Anglais
    • 2017-07-14T19:29+02:00