“Gradually a change came over Willoughby. It
showed itself first in a distinct gain of strength that overjoyed her. All his life, in the sodden midlands and in the clearer cold of Central Europe, Willoughby’s body had simply struggled for existence; whatever vitality he possessed had been poured out daily to nourish the pale, exotic flower of his music. In this blander climate, like a starved plant that rejoices in a genial soil, the musician became a man.”
― Cage Bird, And Other Stories
showed itself first in a distinct gain of strength that overjoyed her. All his life, in the sodden midlands and in the clearer cold of Central Europe, Willoughby’s body had simply struggled for existence; whatever vitality he possessed had been poured out daily to nourish the pale, exotic flower of his music. In this blander climate, like a starved plant that rejoices in a genial soil, the musician became a man.”
― Cage Bird, And Other Stories
“In the street of the perfume-sellers Miss Jenkins subsided on a settee like a fat bee drunk with essences, [...}”
― Cage Bird, And Other Stories
― Cage Bird, And Other Stories
“It didn't occur to him to make allowances for the long English twilight. That twilight gave to the landscape a curious effect of suspended life. It cast upon everything (or was that, perhaps, the beer?) an eerie, magical bloom. Every mile that he went - and now he was hurrying - he felt surer and surer that he was on the verge of some shattering experience.”
― Cage Bird, And Other Stories
― Cage Bird, And Other Stories
“Fortunately, also, that very night the wolfish English summer discarded its lamb-skins.”
― Cage Bird, And Other Stories
― Cage Bird, And Other Stories
“He lived and moved in a curiously exalted, isolated world between his office on Fifth Avenue, which resembled a millionaire's apartment, and his bachelor apartment on Park, which resembled a business man's office. He moved in a vicious circle so rapid that he hadn't even time to realize how rich he was. It was only during his hurried passage between these two high perches [...] that Ludlow Walcot's feet had any contact with his mother earth. All day and all night (for not even his dreams were his own) his giddy brain was assailed by business details which hammered at it with the persistence of a riveting machine, his stomach insulted by snacks and patent nerve-foods, that jostled each other in competing for the attention of his bewildered digestion.”
― Cage Bird, And Other Stories
― Cage Bird, And Other Stories
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Angelika’s 2025 Year in Books
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