I will keep the colour of your eyes until no other in the world remembers your name.
I feel a whole country growing inside me, thousands of years, millions of people, stupid, crazy, shrewd people, and all of them me. I never felt like that before, I never felt that there was anything...
How can it be? she wondered. I suppose I could understand it if men had simply forgotten unicorns (...) But not to see them at all, to look at them and see something else — what do they look to one an...
Farewell,' she said. 'I hope you hear many more songs' - which was the best way she could think of to say good-bye to a butterfly.
Everything is for the first time. See how she moves, how she walks, how she turns her head—all for the first time, the first time anyone has ever done these things. See how she draws her breath and le...
Claudio Bianchi did write poetry [...] He had no vanity about this, no fantasies of literary celebrity; he simply took pleasure putting words in order, exactly as he laid out seedlings in the spring,...
Avicenna California...Museum of my twisted youth, vault of my dearest and most disgusting memories.
A dream that returns so often is like to be a messenger, come to warn you of the future or to remind you of things untimely forgotten.
Но аз съм котка, а никоя котка никъде и никога не е дала на никого ясен отговор.
But the enchantment of error that you put on me I must wear forever in your eyes.
Ако ме беше докоснала - каза много тихо, - щях да принадлежа на нея, а не на себе си, завинаги.Исках да ме докосне, но не можех да и го позволя.Никоя котка няма да го направи.Позволяваме на хората да...
Не винаги сме зърнатото от очите, и никога почти - видяното в мечтите.
You don't have to believe in Hell. All you need is to hear someone who really does, who believes in it this minute, today, the way people believe in 1685 — all you have to do is see his face, his voic...
You can love, and fear, and forbid things to be what they are, and overact. Let it end here then, let the quest end. Is the world any the worse for losing the unicorns, and would it be any better if t...
Why did they go away, do you think? If there ever were such things. Who knows? Times change. Would you call this age a good one for unicorns?
What is plucked will grow again, What is slain lives on, What is stolen will remain-- What is gone is gone.
The universe and Claudio Bianchi had agreed long ago to leave one another alone, and he was grateful, knowing very well how rare such a bargain is, and how rarely kept. And if he had any complaints, h...
The true secret in being a hero lies in knowing the order of things. The swineherd cannot already be wed to the princess when he embarks on his adventures, nor can the boy knock on the witch's door wh...
The king is always watching her out of his pale eyes, wondering what she is, and the king’s son wounds himself with loving her and wonders who she is. And every day she searches the sea and the sky, t...
See, they don't have winter here. I mean, they have a winter – where I live, it's liable to rain any time between November and June, or all the time – but they don't have winter. The idea of it isn't...