—retaining the other half for yourself in savings for the future. Thereupon, at Mr. Pemberton’s good report of your labor—and again I have no doubt that this might be anything but exemplary—I shall dr...

—puentes, ríos y bosques; Francia era un paisaje afortunado—

—not to believe, that is, in the story of his own life. Bold move.

—las alianzas mafiosas del poder político y empresarios influyentes para, prostituyendo el mercado, repartirse dádivas, monopolios y prebendas—.

—it reaches out it reaches out it reaches out it reaches out— One hundred and thirteen times a second, nothing answers and it reaches out. It is not conscious, though parts of it are. There are struct...

—in reality it was escape she wanted, escape from her own self—

—his indescribable little air of knowing nothing in the world but love.

—every single decent lead has gone to hell. I feel like I’m rolling a ball of shit up an endless mountain. My dear Vincent, Sisyphus would be proud.

—crowded out most other voices on the subject of whatever new crisis was engulfing the Trump administration. These quotes functioned as something like a stage whisper that Trump could pretend he didn’...

—but then I wonder what Latitude or Longitude I’ve got to?

—and I’ve clearly freaked you out, and I’m totally mortified, and now I’m going to stop talking, she said. And now I’m going to die.

—You’re very poetic.—No, just sad.

—Ya sabe usted que, según la Cábala, Dios posee un nombre terrible y secreto... —El Tetragrammaton. —Eso es. En sus cuatro letras se apoyan la armonía y el equilibrio del universo... Se lo adivirtió e...

—Ya no hay lugar para ti en el mundo exterior. Ahora vives en Aurora House. ¿Vas captando el concepto? ¿O le pido al señor Withers aquí presente que te lo vuelva a explicar?Mándala a la mierda, me aco...

—Y hay más. Tan pronto no van a cortar tu planta de naranja-lima. Cuando la corten estarás lejos y no sentirás nada. Sollozando me abracé a sus rodillas.—Ya no me interesa, papá. No me interesa… Y mir...

—Y allí se quedó la vieja y malvada Bruja, durante mucho, muchísimo tiempo.—¿Ha salido alguna vez? —Todavía no.

—Why can’t I hide it, too? Meg thought. Why do I always have to show everything?

—What would I be singing, Vicky wondered,—if I sang out my moods?

—What is it about wine, Harry?—What d'ya mean?—What is it that cures us?—Made to glorify the gods. And dull the idiots.

—Was I a swordsman then? sends Johnny. Or a poet? [Yes There is never one without the other]