-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Айн Рэнд
-
- Атлант расправил плечи
-
- Стр. 1127/1581
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Overtime
without
pay
—
because
you
weren
’
t
paid
by
tune
and
you
weren
’
t
paid
by
work
,
only
by
need
.
"
Do
I
have
to
tell
you
what
happened
after
that
—
and
into
what
sort
of
creatures
we
all
started
turning
,
we
who
had
once
been
human
?
We
began
to
hide
whatever
ability
we
had
,
to
slow
down
and
watch
like
hawks
that
we
never
worked
any
faster
or
better
than
the
next
fellow
.
What
else
could
we
do
,
when
we
knew
that
if
we
did
our
best
for
‘
the
family
,
’
it
’
s
not
thanks
or
rewards
that
we
’
d
get
,
but
punishment
?
We
knew
that
for
every
stinker
who
’
d
ruin
a
batch
of
motors
and
cost
the
company
money
—
either
through
his
sloppiness
,
because
he
didn
’
t
have
to
care
,
or
through
plain
incompetence
—
it
’
s
we
who
’
d
have
to
pay
with
our
nights
and
our
Sundays
.
So
we
did
our
best
to
be
no
good
.
"
There
was
one
young
boy
who
started
out
,
full
of
fire
for
the
noble
ideal
,
a
bright
kid
without
any
schooling
,
but
with
a
wonderful
head
on
his
shoulders
.
The
first
year
,
he
figured
out
a
work
process
that
saved
us
thousands
of
man
-
hours
.
He
gave
it
to
‘
the
family
,
’
didn
’
t
ask
anything
for
it
,
either
,
couldn
’
t
ask
,
but
that
was
all
right
with
him
.
It
was
for
the
ideal
,
he
said
.
But
when
he
found
himself
voted
as
one
of
our
ablest
and
sentenced
to
night
work
,
because
we
hadn
’
t
gotten
enough
from
him
,
he
shut
his
mouth
and
his
brain
.
You
can
bet
he
didn
’
t
come
up
with
any
ideas
,
the
second
year
.
"
What
was
it
they
’
d
always
told
us
about
the
vicious
competition
of
the
profit
system
,
where
men
had
to
compete
for
who
’
d
do
a
better
job
than
his
fellows
?
Vicious
,
wasn
’
t
it
?
Well
,
they
should
have
seen
what
it
was
like
when
we
all
had
to
compete
with
one
another
for
who
’
d
do
the
worst
job
possible
.
There
’
s
no
surer
way
to
destroy
a
man
than
to
force
him
into
a
spot
where
he
has
to
aim
at
not
doing
his
best
,
where
he
has
to
struggle
to
do
a
bad
job
,
day
after
day
.
That
will
finish
him
quicker
than
drink
or
idleness
or
pulling
stick
-
ups
for
a
living
.
But
there
was
nothing
else
for
us
to
do
except
to
fake
unfitness
.
The
one
accusation
we
feared
was
to
be
suspected
of
ability
.
Ability
was
like
a
mortgage
on
you
that
you
could
never
pay
off
.
And
what
was
there
to
work
for
?
You
knew
that
your
basic
pittance
would
be
given
to
you
anyway
,
whether
you
worked
or
not
—
your
‘
housing
and
feeding
allowance
,
’
it
was
called
—
and
above
that
pittance
,
you
had
no
chance
to
get
anything
,
no
matter
how
hard
you
tried
.
You
couldn
’
t
count
on
buying
a
new
suit
of
clothes
next
year
—
they
might
give
you
a
‘
clothing
allowance
’
or
they
might
not
,
according
to
whether
nobody
broke
a
leg
,
needed
an
operation
or
gave
birth
to
more
babies
.
And
if
there
wasn
’
t
enough
money
for
new
suits
for
everybody
,
then
you
couldn
’
t
get
yours
,
either
.
"
There
was
one
man
who
’
d
worked
hard
all
his
life
,
because
he
’
d
always
wanted
to
send
his
son
through
college
.
Well
,
the
boy
graduated
from
high
school
in
the
second
year
of
the
plan
—
but
‘
the
family
’
wouldn
’
t
give
the
father
any
‘
allowance
’
for
the
college
.
They
said
his
son
couldn
’
t
go
to
college
,
until
we
had
enough
to
send
everybody
’
s
sons
to
college
—
and
that
we
first
had
to
send
everybody
’
s
children
through
high
school
,
and
we
didn
’
t
even
have
enough
for
that
.
The
father
died
the
following
year
,
in
a
knife
fight
with
somebody
in
a
saloon
,
a
fight
over
nothing
in
particular
—
such
fights
were
beginning
to
happen
among
us
all
the
time
.
"
Then
there
was
an
old
guy
,
a
widower
with
no
family
,
who
had
one
hobby
:
phonograph
records
.
I
guess
that
was
all
he
ever
got
out
of
life
.
In
the
old
days
,
he
used
to
skip
meals
just
to
buy
himself
some
new
recording
of
classical
music
.
Well
,
they
didn
’
t
give
him
any
‘
allowance
’
for
records
—
‘
personal
luxury
,
’
they
called
it
.
But
at
that
same
meeting
,
Millie
Bush
,
somebody
’
s
daughter
,
a
mean
,
ugly
little
eight
-
year
-
old
,
was
voted
a
pair
of
gold
braces
for
her
buck
teeth
—
this
was
‘
medical
need
,
’
because
the
staff
psychologist
had
said
that
the
poor
girl
would
get
an
inferiority
complex
if
her
teeth
weren
’
t
straightened
out
.
The
old
guy
’
who
loved
music
,
turned
to
drink
,
instead
.
He
got
so
you
never
saw
him
fully
conscious
any
more
.
But
it
seems
like
there
was
one
tiling
he
couldn
’
t
forget
.
One
night
,
he
came
staggering
down
the
street
,
saw
Millie
Bush
,
swung
his
fist
and
knocked
all
her
teeth
out
.
Every
one
of
them
.
"
Drink
,
of
course
,
was
what
we
all
turned
to
,
some
more
,
some
less
.
