Charles loved her voice. It was so soft and blurred, like pastels. It made his neck tingle just to listen to her. It gave him the same delicious feeling he had as he hovered on the brink of sleep and...
At the Annexe, at this early hour, I delete you, my darling, my beloved, with your wide soft mouth against my neck. I would rather scrub your bones and place them in the open air, scrub your sternum,...
And in it's magical pattern there was now a new element, a new glow, a cast of a golden colour which suffused everything, the source of which was a character in a book he had half read of and would ne...
The hair...that frizzy nest which grew outwards, horizontal like a wind-blown tree in an Italianate painting.
The cicadas, as if they were wired on the same circuit, suddenly filled the garden with a loud burst of celebration.
Said he the fact of the matter is I am a rat charmer.Thats very nice but do you want the flour or not I can't stand here all day discussing it.I'll give you my two pennies said the old fellow and the...
If you know the country he said then you will be a wild colonial boy forever
Притча за пеперудата:Бях в Богота и чаках да дойде една моя приятелка. Бях влюбен, беше преди много-много години. Чаках цели три дни. Бях гладен, но не смеех да изляза за храна, да не би тя да дойде,...
You could not tell a story like this. A story like this you could only feel.
Theophilus Hopkins was a moderately famous man. You can look him up in the 1860 Britannica. There are three full columns about his corals and his corallines, his anemones and starfish. It does not hav...
Swimming always cleans your soul
No, I thought, only what it makes you do, clawing at the trees, splintering the bark like a tomcat, the blind and violent need of it, a joy, but who would not want to be relieved of it. I pity
Men in high collars who might—this
After we ate we was silent on our blankets looking out across the mighty Great Divide I never seen this country before it were like a fairy story landscape the clear and windy skies was filled with di...
What a torture to hear that a life had been available to me that I had not been man enough to live.
She could marry this man, she knew, and still be captain of her soul.
People do not love those whose eyes show that they are somewhere else
Many is the night I have sat by the roaring river the rain never ending them logs so green bubbling and spitting blazing in a rage no rain can staunch.
It was a knife of an idea, a cruel instrument of sacrifice, but also one of great beauty, silvery, curved, dancing with light.
It made me comfortable. It was a house where you could put your feet up and drink French champagne or Ballarat Bitter according to your mood.