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The Dragon Republic
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by R.F. Kuang (Goodreads Author)
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The Wordhord: Dai...
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by Hana Videen (Goodreads Author)
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Paradise Lost
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  (page 67 of 480)
Feb 19, 2023 01:06PM

 
Book cover for La Guerre et la Paix - Tome I
Mon cher ami, il n’y a que les imbéciles et les débauchés pour être malades, et tu me connais… Je travaille du matin au soir, je suis sobre, donc je me porte bien !
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William Shakespeare
“Look like the innocent flower,
But be the serpent under it.”
William Shakespeare, Macbeth

William Shakespeare
“Out, damned spot! out, I say!—One, two; why, then ‘tis time to do’t.—Hell is murky!—Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account?—Yet who would have thought the old man to have so much blood in him? The thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now?—What, will these hands ne’er be clean?—No more o’that, my lord, no more o’that: you mar all with this starting. Here’s the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh, oh, oh!”
William Shakespeare, Macbeth

Jane Austen
“I cannot make speeches, Emma...If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am. You hear nothing but truth from me. I have blamed you, and lectured you, and you have borne it as no other woman in England would have borne it.”
Jane Austen, Emma

Madeline Miller
“I have done it," she says. At first I do not understand. But then I see the tomb, and the marks she has made on the stone. A C H I L L E S, it reads. And beside it, P A T R O C L U S.
"Go," she says. "He waits for you."

In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun.”
Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles

William Shakespeare
“To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.”
William Shakespeare, Macbeth

year in books
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