Mai Minh

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Charles M. Schulz
“All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn't hurt.”
Charles M. Schulz

Vladimir Nabokov
“The priest rose to take up the crucifix; at that, she strained her neck forward like someone who is thirsty, and, pressing her lips to the body of the Man-God, she laid upon it with all her expiring strength the most passionate kiss of love she had ever given. Then he recited the Miserateur and the Indulgentiam, dipped his right thumb in the oil, and began he unctions: first on the eyes, which had so coveted all earthly splendors; then on the nostrils, greedy for mild breezes and the smells of love; then on the mouth, which had opened to utter lies, which had moaned with pride and cried out in lust; then on the hands, which had delighted in the touch of smooth material; and lastly on the soles of the feet, once so quick when she hastened to satiate her desires and which now would never walk again.”
Vladimir Nabokov

F. Scott Fitzgerald
“Full of vaunting pride, the New Yorker had climbed here, and seen with dismay what he had never suspected. That the city was not the endless sucession of canyons that he had supposed, but that it had limits, fading out into the country on all sides into an expanse of green and blue. That alone was limitless.

And with the awful realization that New York was a city after all and not a universe, the whole shining ediface that he had reared in his mind came crashing down.

That was the gift of Alfred Smith to the citizens of New York.”
F. Scott Fitzgerald

F. Scott Fitzgerald
“Finding no nucleus to which we could cling, we became a small nucleus ourselves and gradually we fitted our disruptive personalities into the contemporary scene of New York. Or rather New York forgot us and let us stay.”
F. Scott Fitzgerald

James Joyce
“He lived at a little distance from his body, regarding his own acts with doubtful side-glances. He had an odd autobiographical habit which led him to compose in his mind from time to time a short sentence about himself containing a subject in the third person and a verb in the past tense.”
James Joyce, Dubliners

year in books
Christi...
467 books | 53 friends

Nadine
338 books | 112 friends

Ha-Mi N...
1,342 books | 121 friends

Marissa...
2,030 books | 341 friends

Hanh Pham
1,070 books | 499 friends

Ross Wa...
294 books | 54 friends

Kimberl...
109 books | 28 friends

Ha Do
64 books | 178 friends

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