Emil Dorian

Emil Dorian’s Followers (4)

member photo
member photo
member photo
member photo

Emil Dorian


Born
in Bucharest, Romania
January 01, 1893

Died
January 01, 1956

Genre


Average rating: 4.89 · 9 ratings · 1 review · 13 distinct works
Quality of Witness: A Roman...

by
it was amazing 5.00 avg rating — 8 ratings — published 1982 — 5 editions
Rate this book
Clear rating
Otrava

really liked it 4.00 avg rating — 1 rating — published 1947
Rate this book
Clear rating
Cu fir negru de arnici: jur...

by
0.00 avg rating — 0 ratings — published 2013
Rate this book
Clear rating
De vorbă cu bălanul meu

0.00 avg rating — 0 ratings — published 1925
Rate this book
Clear rating
Cărțile au rămas neterminat...

0.00 avg rating — 0 ratings — published 2006
Rate this book
Clear rating
Cântece pentru Lelioara

0.00 avg rating — 0 ratings — published 1922
Rate this book
Clear rating
În preajma serii...

0.00 avg rating — 0 ratings — published 1924
Rate this book
Clear rating
Primăvară nouă

0.00 avg rating — 0 ratings — published 1948
Rate this book
Clear rating
Steagurile inimii

0.00 avg rating — 0 ratings — published 1949
Rate this book
Clear rating
Profeți și paiațe

0.00 avg rating — 0 ratings — published 1930
Rate this book
Clear rating
More books by Emil Dorian…
Quotes by Emil Dorian  (?)
Quotes are added by the Goodreads community and are not verified by Goodreads. (Learn more)

“Strong people alone know how to organize their suffering so as to bear only the most necessary pain.”
Emil Dorian, Quality of Witness: A Romanian Diary, 1937-1944

“The fatigue I've gathered year after year and stored inside now heaves a muted cry of helplessness. Nothing but fatigue, rounding my shoulders, heavier than ever on this late autumn day with a useless sun, a world of unforgiving disasters. So many struggles and tragedies, so much sorrow and egotism in this dark, in this rotting century of hate.”
Emil Dorian, Quality of Witness: A Romanian Diary, 1937-1944

“I stopped in front of a florist's window. Behind me, the screeching and throbbing boulevard vanished. Gone, too, were the voices of newspaper vendors selling their daily poisoned flowers. Facing me, behind the glass curtain, a fairyland. Shining, plump carnations, with the pink voluptuousness of women about to reach maturity, poised for the first step of a sprightly dance; shamelessly lascivious gladioli; virginal branches of white lilac; roses lost in pure meditation, undecided between the metaphysical white and the unreal yellow of a sky after the rain.”
Emil Dorian, Quality of Witness: A Romanian Diary, 1937-1944