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“ought he who wishes to banish ignorance and cring from the world go through it like a tempest, dealing out evil at random?”

“This extremely witty man seemed uneasy, and Julien saw him rally somewhat only when he had found three or four arresting things to say. It seemed to Julien that this kind of wit required space. The Baron had not the capacity to produce epigrams; in order to shine he needed at least four sentences of six lines each.”

“One can only lean on something which offers resistance.”

“Not between vice and virtue, but between the mediocrity consequent on assured well-being and all the heroic dreams of his youth. So I lack true resolution, he said to himself. This was the suspicion which gave him most pain. I'm not the wood out of which great men are fashioned, since I'm afraid that eight years spent earning my bread will rob me of the sublime energy required to do extraordinary things.”

Aethel- meaning noble

Joy read. Love to travel some in Westeros

So many farming terms wow

« Written This Year on All Souls’ Day » can’t stop thinking about it

« Some of you may be frivolous enough to think that opening a new four shop is no great event. All I can say is,'You poor innocents!' or I might merely shrug my shoulders and say nothing at all. »

« The face of the dead man was concealed, of course, our customs not being those of the south, where corpses are carried to the grave in open coffins, that they might - one last time before slipping into the pit - be warmed by the light of the sun. »

“Pretty girls go out early for water. They don’t want to be seen with their pails.”

“Of course in those days the commissioner had the power to prohibit people from dying, let alone attending funerals.”

“Behind it was Mr Kedlicky, the policeman, a stub of tallow candle burning gently in his square glass lantern.”

“Mr Schimmer was a German from Slukov, and if he is still with us —which I hope to God he is—I'll wager he speaks Czech as poorly as he did then. 'And to think I learned it in a year,’ he liked to say.”

“I wish to describe a tragic event, but the merry face of Mr. Vojtisek, a face beaming with health and as radiantly red as a Sunday roast basted with fresh butter, shines over the whole thing from the outset.”

“When May is fair Malá Strana is heaven: Pétrin Hill is covered with white blossoms and looks as if milk were bubbling up out of it; all of Malá Strana is awash in the scent of lilac.”