«No hay felicidad como esta dicha: mañanas apacibles, la luz del río, el fin de semana por delante. Vivían una vida rusa, una vida fecunda, entrelazada, en la que un infortunio de uno de los miembros,...
«Pero el conocimiento no te protege. La vida desprecia el conocimiento, lo obliga a esperar sentado en la antesala, a esperar fuera. Pasión, energía, mentiras: eso es lo que la vida admira. No obstant...
At a luncheon, I sat next to a green-eyed young woman, a poet, who declared loftily that you learned nothing from books, it was life you learned from, passion, experience. The host, a fine old man in...
Certain things I remember exactly as they were. They are merely discolored a bit by time, like coins in the pocket of a forgotten suit. Most of the details, though, have long since been transformed or...
Certain things I remember exactly as they were. They are merely discolored a bit by time, like coins in the pocket of a forgotten suit.
Do you know what it is to be really intimate, to feel safe with someone who will never betray you, will never force you to act unlike yourself? That was what we had.
Er komt een tijd dat je alleen bent, schreef Céline lang voordat het hem echt overkwam, als je aan het eind bent gekomen van alles wat je overkomen kan. Het is het einde van de wereld, zelfs verdriet,...
For those we are born to speak to we need prepare nothing, the lines are ready, everything is there.
Gertrude Stein, when asked why she wrote, replied For praise. Lorca said he wrote to be loved. Faulkner said a writer wrote for glory. I may at times have written for those reasons, it's hard to know....
He longs for the one line to give them that they will always remember, that will embrace everything, that will point the way, but he cannot find the line, he cannot recognize it. It is more precious,...
He walks toward the river, placing his feet carefully. His suit is too warm and tight. He reaches the water’s edge. There is the dock, unused now, with its flaking paint and rotten boards, its underpi...
He wanted one thing, the possibility of one thing: to be famous. He wanted to be central to the human family, why else is there to long for, to hope? …He had nothing. He had only the carefully laid ou...
His devotion is complete; he is beginning to sense the confusion that arises from the first fears of what life would be like without her. He knows there can be such a thing, but like the answer to a d...
I'm tired of my life, my clothes, the things I say. I'm hacking away at the surface, as at some kind of gray ice, trying to break through to what is underneath or I am dead. I can feel the surface tre...
It's just that it's hard to believe in greatness...
One feels pan of a vast servitude, anonymous and unending, all of it vanishing unexpectedly with the passing image of Madame Picquet behind the glass of her office, that faintly vulgar, thrilling prof...
She begins to strip like a roommate and climb into bed.They have fallen asleep. Dean wakes first, in the early afternoon. He unfastens her stockings and slowly rolls them off. Her skirt is next and th...
There are men who seem destined to always go first, to lead the way. They are confident in life, they are the first to go beyond it. Whatever there is to know, they learn before others. Their very exi...
They ate dinner in silence. Her husband did not look at her. her face annoyed him, he did not know why. She could be good-looking but there were times when she was not. Her face was like a series of p...
WE DASH THE BLACK RIVER, ITS flats smooth as stone. Not a ship, not a dinghy, not one cry of white. The water lies broken, cracked from the wind. This great estuary is wide, endless. The river is brac...
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