He and Werner eat their first meal in their starchy new uniforms at a long wooden table in the refectory. Some boys talk in whispers, some sit alone, some gulp food as if they have not eaten in days....
Rainwater purls from cloud to roof to eave.
Open your eyes and see what you can with them before they close forever. The Blade and the Whelk The Hôtel-Dieu dining room is big and somber and full of people talking about U-boats off Gibraltar and...
His mother the Ice Queen. The only thing he still had of hers was a book: Snow Crystals, by W. A. Bentley. Inside were thousands of carefully prepared micrographs of snowflakes, each image reproduced...
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.
The sky drops silver threads of sleet.
And the post office, where he waits in interminable
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.
Teacups drift off shelves. Paintings slip off nails. In another
You have to trust someone sometime. If your same blood doesn’t run in the arms and legs of the person you’re next to, you can’t trust anything. And even then.
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....
He says, You are very brave. She lowers the bucket. What is your name? He tells her. She says, When I lost my sight, Werner, people said I was brave. When my father left, people said I was brave. But...
Four years of occupation, and the roar of oncoming bombers is the roar of what? Deliverance? Extirpation? The clack-clack of small-arms fire. The gravelly snare drums of flak. A dozen pigeons roosting...
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...
Bohyně dějin shlíží na zemi. Jedině skrze ten nejžhavější oheň je možno dosáhnout očištění. Vidí les umírajících slunečnic.
Color—that’s another thing people don’t expect. In her imagination, in her dreams, everything has color. The museum buildings are beige, chestnut, hazel. Its scientists are lilac and lemon yellow and...
Single candle. He slides the jack under
Marie-Laure taps on her door, waits a hundred heartbeats.
You know the greatest lesson of history? It's that history is whatever the victors say it is...Whoever wins, that's who decides the history.
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. Etienne
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