The fallen leaves in the forest seemed to make even the ground glow and burn with light
¿LE GUSTA ESTE JARDIN QUE ES SUYO? ¡EVITE QUE SUS HIJOS LODESTRUYAN!
The broken pink pillars, in the half-light, might have been waiting to fall down on him: the pool, covered with green scum, its steps torn away and hanging by one rotting clamp, to close over his head...
Even almost bad poetry is better than life
[Fitzgerald's] latter work represents essentially best qualities of chivalry and decency now too often lacking in the English themselves.
I have no house only a shadow. But whenever you are in need of a shadow, my shadow is yours.
Can't you see there's a determinism about the fate of nations? They all seem to get what they deserve in the long run.
Perhaps his tragedy is that he is the only normal writer left on earth -- and it is this that adds to his isolation and so too his so sense of guilt.
Far above him a few white clouds were racing windily after a pale gibbous moon. Drink all morning, they said to him, drink all day. This is life!
—I am the chief steward of my fate, I am the fireman of my soul.
What use were his talons and fangs to the dying tiger? In the clutches, say, to make matters worse, of a boa-constrictor? But apparently this improbable tiger had no intention of dying just yet. On th...
And as they stood in silence before her, prayed again. Nothing is altered and in spite of God's mercy I am still alone. Though my suffering seems senseless I am still in agony. There is no explanation...
No se puede vivir sin amar
I have resisted temptation for two and a half minutes at least: my redemption is sure.
Closing his eyes again, standing there, glass in hand, he thought for a minute with a freezing detached almost amused calm of the dreadful night inevitably awaiting him whether he drank much more or n...
Mira, Frijolillo -el Cónsul oía sus propias palabras-, tener en tu contra a Franco o a Hitler es una cosa, pero tener a Actinio, Argón, Berilio, Disprosio, Niobio, Paladio, Praseodimio...-Mira, Geoff....
Word
British Columbia, the genteel Siberia, that was neither genteel nor a Siberia, but an undiscovered, perhaps an undiscoverable Paradise
Not that it was not a nightmare. It was, but of a very special kind he was scarcely old enough to appreciate.
…Please let me make her happy, deliver me from this dreadful tyranny of self. I have sunk low. Let me sink lower still, that I may know the truth. Teach me to love again, to love life. That wouldn’t d...
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