“Has it ever happened to you,” Léon went on, “to come across some vague idea of one’s own in a book, some dim image that comes back to you from afar, and as the completest expression of your own slightest sentiment
b6221027333цитирует2 месяца назад
She wished at the same time to die and to live in Paris.
Malina Malinaцитирует10 лет назад
in a stammering voice
b8212307810цитируетпозавчера
He would have quoted Chinese or Greenlandish had he known those two languages, for he was in one of those crises in which the whole soul shows indistinctly what it contains, like the ocean, which, in the storm, opens itself from the seaweeds on its shores down to the sands of its abysses.
b8212307810цитируетпозавчера
even strove not to love her; then, when he heard the creaking of her boots, he turned coward, like drunkards at the sight of strong drinks.
b8212307810цитируетпозавчера
like a traveller who leaves something of his wealth at every inn along his road.
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It was a marvel to him.
b8212307810цитируетпозавчера
an engraver’s shop on the boulevard there is an Italian print of one of the Muses. She is draped in a tunic, and she is looking at the moon, with forget-me-nots in her flowing hair. Something drove me there continually; I stayed there hours together
b8212307810цитируетпозавчера
slippers,” a gift of Léon’s, a whim she had had. They were pink satin, bordered with swansdown.
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He went up, opened the door, entered—What an embrace! Then, after the kisses, the words gushed forth. They told each other the sorrows of the week, the presentiments, the anxiety for the letters; but now everything was forgotten;