Luiza

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Fyodor Dostoevsky
“Leave us alone without books and we shall be lost and in confusion at once. We shall not know what to join on to, what to cling to, what to love and what to hate, what to respect and what to despise. We are oppressed at being men -- men with a real individual body and blood, we are ashamed of it, we think it a disgrace and try to contrive to be some sort of impossible generalised man. We are stillborn, and for generations past have been begotten, not by living fathers, and that suits us better and better. We are developing a taste for it. Soon we shall contrive to be born somehow from an idea. But enough; I don't want to write more from "Underground.”
Fyodor Dostoevsky, Notes from Underground, White Nights, The Dream of a Ridiculous Man, and Selections from The House of the Dead

William Shakespeare
“Thou art a boil, a plague sore, an embossed carbuncle in my corrupted blood.”
William Shakespeare, King Lear

Isabel Allende
“…she did not believe that the world was a vale of tears but rather a joke that God had played and that it was idiotic to take it seriously if He himself never had.”
Isabel Allende, The House of the Spirits

Isabel Allende
“Trató de volver a vivir ese momento, la tierra roja y húmeda, el intenso olor de los bosques de pinos y eucaliptos, donde el tapiz de las hojas secas se maceraba, después del largo y cálido verano, y donde la luz cobriza del sol se filtraba entre las copas de los árboles. Trató de recordar el frío, el silencio y esa preciosa sensación de ser los dueños de la tierra, de tener veinte años y la vida por delante, de amarse tranquilos, ebrios de olor a bosque y de amor, sin pasado, sin sospechar el futuro, con la única increíble riqueza de ese instante presente, en que se miraban, se olían, se besaban, se exploraban, envueltos en el murmullo del viento entre los árboles y el acantilado, estallando en un fragor de espuma olorosa, y ellos dos, abrazados dentro del mismo poncho como siameses en un mismo pellejo, riéndose y jurando que sería para siempre, convencidos de que eran los únicos en todo el universo en haber descubierto el amor.”
Isabel Allende, La casa de los espíritus

Marguerite Duras
“Suddenly, all at once, she knows, knows that he doesn't understand her, that he never will, that he lacks the power to understand such perverseness. And that he can never move fast enough to catch her.”
Marguerite Duras, The Lover

year in books
ana b.
322 books | 33 friends

Carlos ...
0 books | 6 friends

jlf
jlf
362 books | 11 friends

Ian Sch...
0 books | 17 friends

ṀạĿṳ Ŀȧẹṫ
213 books | 90 friends

Tom Mag...
30 books | 150 friends

Tiago R...
111 books | 5 friends

Mazô Mazô
303 books | 212 friends

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