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As the story goes, there once lived a farmer in a village. And the farmer went forth to sow some maize. Now it came to pass, as he was sowing, that the Lord Himself chanced to walk by, Saint Peter at His side. Now, it would have been right and meet for our Lord to hold His

In a village, the story goes, there once lived a lad who had neither father, nor mother, nor any other kin; so obscure was his lineage, in fact, that for all we know, he may well have dropped there from the sky. As the boy was meek, long suffering and slow to speak, the

excerpts In connection with the press condemnation, instituted against Lumina by the prosecutor of the criminal court on account of the Emilia episode in the novel Damsel Mamuca, passed on June 3, 1863.  Maxim: De nihilo nascitur historia. . . (Propertius: II, 1) Gentlemen,

Whereas Westerners have not only a scientia sexualis, but also a tradition of erotic literature, a middling language between anatomy and slang, and Orientals have an ars amandi that has long found its expression, we are still betting on the 'mistakes of youth',

excerpt Conclusions and perspectivesThere are some problems connected with the research of the implications of the social capital in the development of ethnic relationships in Transylvania. Social trust and participating in secondary organizations are rather issues of availability

excerpts On July 27th, we had an excursion by automobile to the petrol fields down in the valley leading from Bucharest to Sinaia. Mr. Lecca was with us. Just before lunch, he introduced me to another man who was visiting the petrol fields, and who was the Romanian Minister

An event that happened several years ago and has turned, in time, into an urban legend, goes like this: the employees of a German-owned media trust had become lazy and unruly, would come to work when, and if, they felt like it, and would actually work only between two coffee

excerpts Most traditional stories move from a bad start to an agreeable conclusion. The story I am going to share with you falls short of the traditional canon. For one thing, it begins agreeably enough, only to draw to an unsavoury conclusion with ambiguously loose ends.

I saw the light of day in an atypical village of Bucovina. It was a multiethnic village, a kind of summary of Europe. A European Union avant la lettre. It is there, I believe, that a direction in my life was traced, an ecumenical dominant feature, one of understanding of

I was born and I spent my childhood in the capital of the country that is called Romania, a state that at that time had prided itself for about a decade with the name of Greater Romania, which was a creation of the preceding generation, but also the outcome of a long series

Vasile Socoliuc was born on August 7, 1937, at Tisauti, Suceava County. After taking courses at the Fine Arts School in Bucharest, he attended the N. Grigorescu Fine Arts Institute, graphics department. He worked as a graphic artist with the Publishing House for World Literature,

For me, to draw means to tear something out of the unknown, to exhibit a piece of inner life, to put it in images. The materialization of this effort demands honesty, first of all. Yet, this is not enough, for you also need continuous labor in order to support creation.