Max Geddes

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The Piano Teacher
Max Geddes is currently reading
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  (page 144 of 280)
"This is a crazy book to read on the bus sorry to everyone behind me" May 18, 2026 03:20PM

 
The Dark Forest
Max Geddes is currently reading
by Liu Cixin (Goodreads Author)
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  (page 164 of 512)
"Sorry i am not really reading this r8ight now im sorry" Oct 05, 2025 01:35AM

 
Do Not Say We Hav...
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progress:  On page 141. "I refuse to dnf but I will also not be picking this back up for ages. Sorry to my devoted fans." Mar 27, 2025 02:42PM

 
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Franz Kafka
“Our winters are very long here, very long and very monotonous. But we don't complain about it downstairs, we're shielded against the winter. Oh, spring does come eventually, and summer, and they last for a while, but now, looking back, spring and summer seem too short, as if they were not much more than a couple of days, and even on those days, no matter how lovely the day, it still snows occasionally.”
Franz Kafka, The Castle

Emily Brontë
“Don't you like him Ellen?'

'Like him?' I exclaimed. 'The worst tempered bit of a sickly slip that ever struggled into its teens! Happily, as Mr Heathcliff conjectures, he'll not win twenty! I doubt whether he'll see spring, indeed - and small loss to his family, whenever he drops off; and lucky it is for us that his father took him - The kinder he was treated, the more tedious and selfish he'd be! I'm glad you have no chance of having him for a husband, Miss Catherine!”
Emily Brontë

“Her brother was her mother's minor moon, her warmest sun, and at the exact same time, a tiny satellite that she had forgotten about. He would orbit her for an eternity, even as she, and then he, broke into bits.”
Douglas Stuart, Young Mungo

Franz Kafka
“those who are ignorant naturally consider everything possible.”
Franz Kafka, The Castle

Christopher Paolini
“They shared a laugh, and then the silence that so often intruded on their discussion asserted itself once again, a gap born of equal parts weariness, familiarity, and - conversely - the many differences that fate had created between those who had once gone about lives that were but variations on a single melody.”
Christopher Paolini, Brisingr

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