To enter a world of shadows is to leave this world for another.
Then the short man disappears through the huge doors. Minutes later, the aide-de-camp flings open the shutters of an upstairs window and gazes a moment across the rooftops before unfurling a crimson f...
That little rock you’re so curious about may have seen Alaric sack Rome; it may have glittered in the eyes of Pharaohs. Scythian queens might have danced all night wearing it. Wars might have been fou...
That afternoon, long after the stool has been put away and the waltzes have stopped, while Werner sits with his transceiver listening to nothing, a little redheaded girl in a maroon cape emerges from...
Teacups drift off shelves. Paintings slip off nails. In another
Sometimes the eye of a hurricane is the safest place to be
So really, children, mathematically, all the light is invisible
She wants very badly for her father to say, Yes, that’s it absolutely, ma chérie, but he says nothing.
Several do math on their fingers. Then they raise their hands as one. Can we see it? No. Not even open the first door? No. Have you seen it? I have not. So how do you know it’s really there? You have...
Seventy-six years old, and I can still feel like this? Like a little girl with stars in my eyes?
Se pelo menos a vida fosse como um romance de Júlio Verne... e você pudesse passar as páginas para a frente, quando precisasse, para descobrir o que estava para acontecer.
Radio: it ties a million ears to a single mouth. Out
Out in the forsaken city, every other structure, it seems, is burning or collapsing, but here in front of him is the inverse in miniature: the city remains, but the house he occupies is gone.
No footprints in the sand. Pebbles and bits of weed are strung in scalloped lines. Three outer islands bear low stone forts; a green lantern glows on the tip of a jetty. It feels appropriate somehow,...
It's as if the city has become a library of books in an unknown language, the houses great shelves of illegible volumes, the lamps all extinguished.
I do not know so. I believe so.
He scans the field. Trees, sky, hay. Darkness falling like velvet. Already a few pale stars. Marie-Laure breathes the measured breath of sleep. Everyone should behave as if he carries the real thing....
Frederick can walk for hours in the woods, can identify warblers fifty yards away simply by hearing their song. Frederick hardly every thinks of himself. Frederick is stronger than he is in every imag...
Five boys later, it is Frederick’s turn. Frederick, who clearly cannot see well without his glasses. Who has not been cheering when each bucketful of water finds its mark. Who is frowning at the priso...
Every day, on his right and left, another soul escapes toward the sky, and it sounds to him as if he can hear faraway music, as if a door has been shut on a grand old radio and he can listen only by p...