MembreLulubel

Sobre la meva biblioteca

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Sobre mi

"The moon lit up the rooftops in the village; the tiles glistened like the scales on a fish. The garden was fragrant, peaceful, and the silverly light seemed to shimmer like clear water, gently rising and falling over the fruit trees." Irene Nemirovsky

"Occasionally he had caught a whiff of something warm and intoxicating, but nothing like here where the smell rose up to his whiskers and took hold of him, making his head spin. Eyes half closed, he could feel waves of powerful, sweet perfume running through him: the pungent smell of the last lilacs, the sap running through the trees, the cool, dark earth, the animals, birds, moles, mice, all the prey, the musky scent of fur, of skin, the smell of blood...His mouth gaping with longing, he jumped on to the window sill and walked slowly along the drainpipe." Irene Nemirovsky

"He hesitated for a moment, then buried his muzzle in the ground. Now he was in the very black of night, at the heart of it, at the darkest point. He needed to sniff the earth: here, between the roots and the pebbles, were smells untainted by the scent of humans, smells that had yet to waft into the air and vanish." Irene Nemirovsky

"Tired, triumphant and covered in dew, the cat gnawed on a sprig of grass, then slipped back into Jacqueline's room, on to her bed, looking for that warm spot near her thin feet. He was purring like a kettle on the boil." Irene Nemirovsky

"All the light of the day, fleeing the earth, seemed for one brief moment to take refuge in the sky; pink clouds spiraled round the full moon that was as green as pistachio sorbet and as clear as glass; it was reflected in the lake. Exquisite perfumes filled the air: grass, fresh hay, wild strawberries." Irene Nemirovsky

"I know you will be and I hope you are an excellent man, and I will love you absolutely if you are not." Marilynne Robinson

"She was desperate and she was choosey at the same time and, in a way, beautiful, but she didn't have quite enough going for her to become what she imagined herself to be." Charles Bukowski

Ubicació

Texas

Ara mateix l'estic llegint

Measurement de Paul Lockhart

1984 de George Orwell

Autors preferits

Jane Austen, John Banville, Charlotte Brontë, Emily Brontë, Truman Capote, Willa Cather, Kate Chopin, Pat Conroy, Theodore Dreiser, Laura Esquivel, William Faulkner, Charles Frazier, William Golding, Thomas Hardy, John Irving, Henry James, Lily King, D. H. Lawrence, Sinclair Lewis, Norman Mailer, Thomas Mann, W. Somerset Maugham, Ian McEwan, Toni Morrison, Iris Murdoch, Irène Némirovsky, Boris Pasternak, Anne Rice, Tom Robbins, Arundhati Roy, José Saramago, William Shakespeare, John Steinbeck, Harriet Beecher Stowe, Botho Strauß, Cheryl Strayed, Colm Tóibín, Leo Tolstoy, William Trevor, Mark Twain, Voltaire, Kurt Vonnegut, Edith Wharton, Virginia Woolf

Connexions del membre

Biblioteca interessant

AnthonyBurgess, C.S._Lewis, CharlesDarwin, cydmoore, ErnestHemingway, FlanneryOConnor, Franz_Kafka, FScottFitzgerald, GeorgeOrwellLibrary, GrahamGreene, GustaveFlaubert, hermanmelville, Ian_Fleming, JamesJoyceLibrary, KatharineHepburn, marilynmonroelibrary, SylviaPlathLibrary, TempWmFExperiment, theodoredreiser, ThomasMann, WalkerPercy, WalterScottLibrary, WillaCatherLibrary