Every hour, she thinks, someone for whom the war was memory falls out of the world. We rise again in the gross. In the flowers. In songs.
Even the heart, which in higher animals, when agitated, pulsates with increased energy, in the snail under similar excitement, throbs with a slower motion.
Entropy is the degree of randomness or disorder in a system, Doctor. His eyes fix on Werner’s for a heartbeat, a glance both warm and chilling. Disorder. You hear the commandant say it. You hear your...
Ele tinha uma presença tão apagada. Era como estar em uma sala com uma pena. Mas a alma dele brilhava com uma bondade fundamental...
Each time Marie-Laure relays another rumor to her father, he repeats Germany with a question mark after it, as if saying it for the very first time. He says the takeover of Austria is nothing to worry...
Did you know, says Marie-Laure, that the chance of being hit by lightning is one in one million? Dr. Geffard taught me that.In one year or in one lifetime?I'm not sure.You should have asked.
Ca inchipuiti mai sunt oamenii! De ce sa te obosesti sa compui muzica daca tacerea si vantul sunt mai cuprinzatoare? De ce sa aprinzi lampi daca intunericul, inevitabil, le va stinge?
But what Marie-Laure remembered, standing at the rail as it whistled past, was her father saying that Foucault's pendulum would never stop. It would keep swinging, she understood, after she and her fa...
But then, right at 2300 hours, Werner sees it, hardly one block from where they parked the Opel: an antenna sliding up alongside a chimney. Not much wider than a broomstick. It rises perhaps twelve me...
But it is not bravery; I have no choice. I wake up and live my life.
Box 1 Auckland,
A person can get up and leave her life. The world is that big.
A line comes back to Marie-Laure from Jules Verne: Science, my lad, is made up of mistakes, but they are mistakes which it is useful to make, because they lead little by little to the truth.
A diamond is never entirely free of inclusions. A real diamond is never perfect.
1944
All of it burning. Every memory he ever made. Above Fort National, the dawn becomes deeply, murderously clear. The Milky Way a fading river. He looks across to the fires. He thinks: The universe is fu...
Wondrously futile to build splendid buildings, to make music, to sing songs, to print huge books full of colorful birds in the face of the seismic, engulfing indifference of the world—what pretensions...
Who stood by as the consequences
Turn
This window here, a boy once yelled, Watch