Este o poveste de dragoste dintre un baiat care se muta intr-un complex de apartamente (ceva de genu) si intalneste o fata misterioasa pe hol pe acolo. Pe parcurs el incearca sa afle cine este, o cunoaste pana la urma si afla ca este o fata pe care o mai vazuse in trecut. Ochii ei o dau de gol. Nu pot sa rezum foarte bine cartea pentru ca as putea strica surpriza
Katia demonul albastru-principesa Margareta Bibescu-actiunea se petrece in Rusia la sf sec al 18-lea Katia este o fetita care nu are mama, dar care la 17 ani reuseste sa puna mana pe inima tarului-tosusi au parte de multe greutati, caci cei care ii inconjoara nu sunt de acord cu relatia lor).
Am mai auzit de el ca imi zicea cea mai buna colega ca vrea sa il citeasca. Si sa ne apucam sa il citim amundoua odata dar cand mi-a spus ea asta eu citeam 50 de umbre descatusate... totusi as vrea sa stiu despre ce e vorba in el daca vrei sa ma ajuti :*
I love to be alone.
The sun is but a morning star. The wildest sound ever heard makes the woods ring far and wide.
Faint tinkling sounds borne to my ear. Their roots reaching quite
under the house. Fearing that they would be light-headed.
For want of food and also sleep.
Prevailing blue mixed with yellow of the sand. Sunshine is the color
of the water.
I used to wonder at the halo of light around my shadow. And fancied myself
one of the elect.
When I wrote the following pages, the bulk of them. I lived alone in the woods,
a mile from any neighbor, in a house which I had built myself, on the shore on the shore of Walden Pond. And earned my living by the labor of my hands only.
I lived there for two years and two months. At present I am a sojourner
of civilized life again.
He heard a low and distant sound. But grand, and impressive. Unlike anything
he had ever heard.
Gradually swelling and increasing. As if it would have a universal
and memorable ending. A sullen rush and roar.
The rays which stream through the shutter will be no longer remembered
when the shutter is wholly removed.
The finest qualities of our nature, like the bloom on fruits, can be preserved.
A stream flowing out in that direction through a wooded valley.
But stream there was none.
I am glad to have drunk water so long.
For the same reason that
I prefer the natural sky.
Walden- Henry David Thoreau
I think that the spirit acts on the body, breathes through it, transfigures it, veils it to make it fairer than it is. For what is flesh alone? What... is flesh... alone? You may see it and feel only disgust. You may see it in the gutter, drunken, or in the coffin, dead. The world's as full of flesh as a grocer's counter is of cand les at the start of winter. But not until you've bought a candle home and lit it can it give you comfort.
Francis de Assisi- n-am vazut asta in opere dar nu stiu daca e mai mare, deci reconst de Julien Green
am a dreamer rather than a thinker, a zero rather than a force, dim rather than sharp. Assuredly there exists in your extensive institution, which I imagine to be overflowing with main and subsidiary functions and offices, work of the cand that one can do as in a dream?…Well, so now you know what sort of a person I am. —I write, as you see, a graceful and fluent hand, and you need not imagine me to be entirely without intelligence. My mind is clear, but it refuses to grasp things that are many, or too many by far, shunning them. I am sincere and honest, and I am aware that this signifies precious little in the world in which we live, so I shall be waiting, esteemed gentlemen, to see what it will be your pleasure to reply to your respectful servant, positively drowning in obedience.
Spontaneously I exclaimed: "Pretty indignant, by God, should any honorable man be, when brought fact to fact with such golden inscriptional barbarities, which impress upon the landscape where we stand the seal of self-seeking, money grubbing, and a miserable, utterly blatant coarsening of the soul. Does a simple, sincere master baker really require to appear so huge, which is foolish gold and silver proclamations to beam forth and shine, bright as a prince or a dressy, dubious lady? Let him bake and knead his bread in all honor and in reasonable modesty. What sort of a world of swindle are we beginning, or have already begun, to live in, when the municipality, the neighbors, and public opinion not only tolerate but happily, it is clear, even applaud that which injures every good sense, every sense of reason and good office, every sense of beauty and probity, that which is morbidly puffed up, offers a ridiculous tawdry show of itself, that which screams out over a hundred yards’ distance and more in the good honest air: ‘I am such and such. I have so and so much money, and I dare make so bold as to make an unpleasant impression."
"I should be all alone in this world. Me, Steiner and no other living being. No sun, no culture: I naked on a high cliff, no storm, no snow, no streets, no banks, no money. No time and no breath. Then I would no longer have to be afraid."
Si.....ai in jur de 15 ani, banuiesc ca alegi filologia, cauti cavalerul perfect, te joci cu sufletele naive ale celor slabi si surazi cand mai prinzi pe cineva, cand cineva patrunde mai departe de capcanele tale, te retragi vulnerabila, dar mereu pastrezi o chestie ca il va atrage inapoi.
Spune-mi unde gresesc
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