Smile with instinct, then lick your wounds in the darkest of dark corners. Trace the scars back to your own fingers and remember them.
THE ONLY THING WORSE THAN A BOY WHO HATES YOUA boy who loves you.
That was when the world wasn’t so big and I could see everywhere.
The silence was always the greates temptation.
That is the best I can do—watch it fall into line with everything else I spectated during that time.
I can be amiable. Agreeable. Affable. And that’s only the A’s. Just don’t ask me to be nice. Nice has nothing to do with me.
Y ese beso, Saumensch?
Imagine smiling after a slap in the face. Then think of doing it twenty-four hours a day. That was the business of hiding a Jew. As
I did it because you are the epitome of ordinariness, Ed. And if a guy like you can stand up and do what you did for all those people, well, maybe everyone can. Maybe everyone can live beyond what the...
Le gustaban los corrillos apretados y lo desconocido. La agridulce sensación de la incertidumbre: Ganar o perder.
I don't have much interest in building mystery. Mystery bores me. It chores me. I know what happens and so do you. It's the machinations that wheel us there that aggravate, perplex, interest, and asto...
She gave 'The Dream Carrier' to Max as if words alone could nourish him.
Podría presentarme como es debido pero, la verdad, no es necesario. Pronto me conocerás bien, todo depende de una compleja combinación de variables. Por ahora basta con decir que, tarde o temprano, ap...
Personally, I think sex should be like math. At school. No one really cares if they’re crap at math. They even proclaim it. They’ll say to anyone, Yeah, I don’t mind science and English, but I’m absol...
That basement was not a washroom. They were not sent there for a shower. For those people, life was still achievable.
Is this yours?’ ‘Yes, Papa.’ ‘Do you want to read it?’ Again, ‘Yes, Papa.’ A tired smile. Metallic eyes, melting. ‘Well we’d better read it then.
I like that every page in every book can have a gem on it. It's probably what I love most about writing—that words can be used in a way that's like a child playing in a sandpit, rearranging things, sw...
None of them had it. They had no qualms about stealing, but they needed to be told. They liked to be told, and Viktor Chemmel liked to be the teller. It was a nice microcosm.
You will be caked in your own body.
«LA LADRONA DE LIBROS» ÚLTIMA LÍNEA «He odiado las palabras y las he amado, y espero haber estado a su altura.»
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