Electrons, the signal chain like a path through a crowded city,
And the post office, where he waits in interminable
You must never stop believing. That’s the most important thing. The
You have minds. But minds are not to be trusted. Minds are always drifting toward ambiguity, toward questions, when what you really need is certainty. Purpose. Clarity. Do not trust your minds.
You came, she says when she lets them in, when he takes her face in his hands. You came . . .
When he last went out, almost twenty-four years ago, he tried to make eye contact, to present what might be considered a normal appearance.
We live in exceptional times.
There must be some definite cause why, whenever snow begins to fall, its initial formation invariably displays the shape of a six-cornered starlet. For if it happens by chance, why do they not fall ju...
Tatal ei radiaza o mie de culori, opal, rosu-capsuna, ruginiu-inchis, verde crud; un miros de ulei si metal, senzatia de cheie potrivita in yala, zornaitul cheilor lui pe inel in timp ce merge.
Swifts, flushed from chimneys, catch fire and swoop like blown sparks out over the ramparts and extinguish themselves in the sea.
Rainwater purls from cloud to roof to eave.
Open your eyes before they close forever
One of his boots has lost its lace, and its tongue lolls cannibalistically.
Now that shell, Laurette, belonged to a violet sea snail, a blind snail that lives its whole life on the surface of the sea. As
Maybe living was no more than getting swept over a riverbed and eventually out to sea, no choices to make, only the vast, formless ocean ahead, the frothing waves, the lightless tomb of its depths.
Marie-Laure sits in her customary spot in the corner of the kitchen, closest to the fireplace, and listens to the friends of Melanie Manec complain... Nine of them sit around the square table, knees p...
Look closely and the picturesque inevitably cracks apart and becomes more interesting.
La lógica, la razón y la ciencia pura son las tres vías apropiadas, insiste Aronnax, para aproximarse al misterio.
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.
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