- Забранено ми е да ям шоколад. Каро и оня идиот докторът. Заедно с всичко друго, което би могло да ми достави удоволствие - добави иронично. - Първо цигарите, после алкохола, а сега и това...Един Гос...
Some books you read.
There’s an old Northlands saying that goes like this: When lies don’t help. try telling the truth. Loki knew it well, of course, but preferred his own version, which was: When lies don’t help, tell be...
In any case, fire burns; that's its nature, and you can't expect to change that. You can use it to cook your meat or to burn down your neighbor's house. And is the fire you use for cooking any differe...
He was the cleanest-cut comic-book schoolboy hero imaginable.
He drank, for the same reason he wrote second-rate science fiction. Not to forget but to remember, to open the past and find himself there again. He opened each bottle, began each story with the secre...
Drunkeness, she told us in a rare moment of confidence, is a sin against the fruit, the tree, the wine itself. Wine, distilled and nurtured from bud into fruit; it deserves reverance. Joy. Gentleness....
What is a writer of fiction but a liar with a licence?
That's how religions and histories make their way into the world, not through battles and conquests, but through poems and kennings and songs, passed through generations and written down by scholars a...
Guilleaume left La Praline with a small bag of florentines in his pocket; before he had turned the corner of avenue des Francs Bourgeois I saw him stoop to offer one to the dog. A pat, a bark, a waggi...
At such times I feel I could die for love of her, my little stranger, my heart swelling dangerously so that the only release is to run too, my red coat flapping around my shoulders like wings, my hair...
The Blessed Damozel essence of every dream and fairy story and legend and fear ...
He is the kind of man who breakes biscuits in two and saves the other half for later
You don't write because someone sets assignments! You write because you need to write, or because you hope someone will listen or because writing will mend something broken inside you or bring somethi...
We came in the wind of the carnival. A wind of change, or promises. The merry wind, the magical wind, making March hares of everyone, tumbling blossoms and coat-tails and hats; rushing towards summer...
To be closed from everything, and yet to feel, to think...This is the truth of hell, stripped of its gaudy medievalisms. This loss of contact.
The air is hot and rich with the scent of chocolate. Quite unlike the white powdery chocolate I knew as a boy, this has a throaty richness like the perfumed beans from the coffee stall on the market,...
Loki, that's me. Loki, the Light-Bringer, the misunderstood, the elusive, the handsome and modest hero of this particular tissue of lies.
If I’m going to die today, the least I can do is look fabulous while I’m doing it.
I sell dreams, small comforts, sweet harmless temptations to bring down a multitude of saints crashing among the hazels and nougatines