A SMALL ANNOUNCEMENT *** ABOUT RUDY STEINERHe didn't deserve to die the way he did.
Where Hans Hubermann and Erik Vandenburg were ultimately united by music, Max and Liesel were held together by the quiet gathering of words.
He must have longed for it so much. He must have loved her so incredibly hard. So hard that he would never ask for her lips again and would go to his grave without them.
I am not violent. I am not malicious. I am a result.
After another ten minutes, the gates of thievery would open just a crack, and Liesel Meminger would widen them a little further and squeeze through. ***TWO QUESTIONS***Would the gates shut behind her?...
Si domandò quando esattamente i libri e le parole avessero incominciato a significare non solamente qualcosa, ma tutto.
The question is, what colour will everything be at that moment when I come for you? What will the sky be saying?
The sky is blue today, Max, and there is a big long cloud, and it's stretched out, like a rope. At the end of it, the sun islike a yellow hole. . .
She walked down the basement steps. She saw an imaginary framed photo seep into the wall - a quiet-smiled secret. No more than a few meters, it was a long walk to the drop sheets and the assortment of...
Može li netko ukrasti sreću? Ili je i to još jedan unutarnji, pakleni ljudski trik?
The scrawled words of practice stood magnificently on the wall by the stairs, jagged and childlike and sweet. They looked on as both the hidden Jew and the girl slept, hand to shoulder. They breathed....
Papa sat with me tonight. He brought the accordion down and sat close to where Max used to sit. I often look at his fingers and face when he plays. the accordion breathes. There are lines on his cheek...
First the colors. Then the humans. That's usually how I see things. Or at least, how I try.
I wanted to explain that I am constantly overestimating and underestimating the human race - that rarely do I even simply estimate it. I wanted to ask her how the same thing could be so ugly and so gl...
On June 23, 1942, there was a group of French Jews in a German prison, on Polish soil. The first person I took was close to the door, his mind racing, then reduced to pacing, then slowing down, slowin...
There was no more yelling or calling out, but they could not contain the small snatches of laughter. They were only humans, playing in the snow, in a house
The moon was sewn into the sky that night
There were heavy beams - planks of sun - falling randomly, wonderfully, onto the road. Clouds arched their backs to lok behind as they started again to move on. 'It's such a beautiful day,' he said, a...
You might well ask just what the hell he was thinking. The answer is, probably nothing at all.He'd probably say he was exercising his God-given right to stupidity.
[...]otra arremetida de «HeilHitler!». ¿Sabes? Lo cierto es que me sorprendería que alguien no perdiera unojo o se hiciera daño en una mano o en una muñeca en medio de ese jaleo.Bastaba con quedarse m...
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