Mr. Lomax had signed for Emmeline. That told me that she had survived the fire, at least. And on the second line, the name I had been hoping for. Vida Winter. And after it, in brackets, the words, for...
I pushed my pile of papers to one side, stroked Shadow and stared into the fire, longing for the comfort of a story where everything had been planned well in advance, where the confusion of the middle...
I made a resolution to telephone my mother the next day, but it was a safe resolution; no one can hold you to a decision made in middle of the night.And then my spine sent me an alarm. A presence. Her...
I looked out into the dead garden. Against the fading light, my shadow hovered in the glass, looking into the dead room. What did she make of us? I wondered. What did she think of our attempts to pers...
He had given up trying to make her believe only what was true, she had been raised to the kind of religion that could admit no difference between what was true and what was good.
He didn't know of course. Not really. And yet that was what he said, and I was soothed to hear it. For I knew what he meant. We all have our sorrows, and although the exact delineaments, weight, and d...
For someone now dead once thought these words significant enough to write them down.
Every so often I take out a volume and read a page or two. After all, reading is looking after in a manner of speaking. Though they're not old enough to be valuable for their age alone, nor important...
Does the occurrence of one impossible thing increase the likelihood of a second.
But you know it was here? In this house? Aurelius shoved his hands into the depths of his pockets. His shoulders tightened. I wouldn’t expect other people to understand. I haven’t got any proof. But I...
Avete presente quando cominciate a leggere un nuovo libro prima che la membrana di quello precedente abbia avuto il tempo di richiudersi dietro di voi? Quando lasciate il vecchio libro avete idee, arg...
And yet I cannot pretend that the reading I have done in my adult years matches in its impact on my soul the reading I did as a child. I still believe in stories. I still forget myself when I am in th...
And is it better to know? he asked me. I can’t tell you. But once you know, it’s impossible to go back.
And is it better to know? he asked me.I can’t tell you. But once you know, it’s impossible to go back.
All children mythologize their birth. It is a universal trait. You want to know someone? Heart, mind and soul? Ask him to tell you about when he was born. What you get won’t be the truth; it will be a...
After a great many questions I eventually ascertained that he is suffering from some kind of disorder of the mind. Is there anything more sorrowful than a brain whose proper function has been disrupte...
A river no more begins at its source than a story begins with the first page.
But he is a man, hence cannot see how tiresome it is to have explained at length what one has already fully understood.
Undid my knitting. All those little knots that you make one after another, row by row, to knit a sock, I undid them. It’s easy. Take the needles out, a little tug and they just fall apart. One after a...
Opening the book, i inhaled. the smell of old books, so sharp, so dry you can taste it.