

“Come let me kiss you. Life was never so precious as today— when it meant so little.”
― Arch of Triumph: A Novel of a Man Without a Country
― Arch of Triumph: A Novel of a Man Without a Country

“To be alone—the eternal refrain of life. It wasn’t better or worse than anything else. One talked too much about it. One was always and never alone. A violin, suddenly—somewhere out of a twilight—in a garden on the hills around Budapest. The heavy scent of chestnuts. The wind. And dreams crouched on one’s shoulders like young owls, their eyes becoming lighter in the dusk. A night that never became night. The hour when all women were beautiful.”
― Arch of Triumph: A Novel of a Man Without a Country
― Arch of Triumph: A Novel of a Man Without a Country

“Everything was all right. That which had been and that which was still to come. It was enough. If it were the end, it was all right so. He had loved somebody and lost her. He had hated another and killed him. Both had freed him. One had brought his feelings to life again; the other had eradicated his past. Nothing remained behind unfulfilled. No desire was left; no hatred, nor any lament. If this were a new beginning, then that was what it was. One would start without expectation, prepared for many things, with the simple strength of experience which had strengthened and not torn asunder. The ashes had been cleared away. Paralyzed places were alive again. Cynicism had turned into strength. It was all right.”
― Arch of Triumph: A Novel of a Man Without a Country
― Arch of Triumph: A Novel of a Man Without a Country

“She was very beautiful and he felt he loved her. She was not beautiful as a state or a picture is beautiful; she was beautiful as a meadow across which the wind blows. It was life that pulsed in her and that had formed her into what she was.”
― Arch of Triumph: A Novel of a Man Without a Country
― Arch of Triumph: A Novel of a Man Without a Country

“I’ll tell you the story of the wave and the rock. It’s an old story. Older than we are. Listen. Once upon a time there was a wave who loved a rock in the sea, let us say in the Bay of Capri. The wave foamed and swirled around the rock, she kissed him day and night, she embraced him with her white arms, she sighed and wept and besought him to come to her. She loved him and stormed about him and in that way slowly undermined him, and one day he yielded, completely undermined, and sank into her arms.”
“And suddenly he was no longer a rock to be played with, to be loved, to be dreamed of. He was only a block of stone at the bottom of the sea, drowned in her. The wave felt disappointed and deceived and looked for another rock
“What does that mean? He should have remained a rock.”
“The wave always says that. But things that move are stronger than immovable things. Water is stronger than rocks.”
― Arch of Triumph: A Novel of a Man Without a Country
“And suddenly he was no longer a rock to be played with, to be loved, to be dreamed of. He was only a block of stone at the bottom of the sea, drowned in her. The wave felt disappointed and deceived and looked for another rock
“What does that mean? He should have remained a rock.”
“The wave always says that. But things that move are stronger than immovable things. Water is stronger than rocks.”
― Arch of Triumph: A Novel of a Man Without a Country
Cody’s 2024 Year in Books
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