Fear made her seem ill; it distorted her body lines, made her appear as if someone had broken her, and then, with malice, patched her together badly.
Flow my tears, fall from your springs!Exiled forever let me mourn;Where night’s black bird her sad infamy sings,There let me live forlorn.
Gli americani leali potevano tornare a respirare tranquillamente: la loro libertà di fare ciò che gli veniva detto di fare era stata salvaguardata.
Gli aveva insegnato ad odiare sé stesso, e poi, una volta completato l'opera, lo aveva lasciato
God, they read a book, he thought, and they spout on forever.
Grief causes you to leave yourself. You step outside your narrow little pelt. And you can’t feel grief unless you’ve had love before it - grief is the final outcome of love, because it’s love lost. […...
Having nothing else to do or think about, he began to work out theoretically the life cycle of the bugs, and, with the aid of the Britannica, try to determine specifically which bugs they were.
He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God.
How long that part of the cycle had lasted he did not now know; nothing had happened, generally, so it had been measureless.
How undisturbed, the sleep of the foolish.
I'd like to see you move up to the goat class, where I think you belong.
It is as if one hemisphere of your brain is perceiving the world as reflected in a mirror. Through a mirror. See? So left becomes right, and all that that implies. And we don’t know yet what that does...
It is my job to create universes, as the basis of one novel after another. And I have to build them in such a way that they do not fall apart two days later.Or at least that's what my editors hope.How...
It is therapeutic to meet these people who have intimidated you. And to discover what they are really like. Then the intimidation goes.
It takes a certain amount of courage, he thought, to face yourself and say with candor, I'm rotten. I've done evil and I will again. It was no accident; it emanated from the true, authentic me.
It's the basic condition of life to be required to violate our own identity.
Life which we can no longer distinguish; life carefully buried up to its forehead in the carcass of a dead world. In every cinder of the universe Mercer probably perceives inconspicuous life. Now I kn...
Maybe, he pondered as he ascended the stairs, that's my problem with Kathy. I can't remember our combined past: can't recall the days when we voluntarily lived with each other... now it's become an in...
Maybe—after 14 months all I really know is that I don’t know anything except that it happened to me, and what I saw during that short time was real. That’s
Odd that the brain could function on its own, without acquainting him with its purposes, its reasons. But the brain was an organ, like the spleen, heart, kidneys. And they went about their private act...
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