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Quote by Daniel Mason

“Clementi, Sonata in Fa Diesis Minore, Opera 25, Numero 5" disse Katherine, e lui annuì. Una volta le aveva spiegato che quella sonata evocava in lui l'immagine di un uomo perduto in mezzo al mare mentre la sua innamorata lo aspetta sulla riva.”

Quote by Daniel Mason

Work

The Piano Tuner

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Author

Daniel Mason
Daniel Mason

Daniel Mason is a British novelist born in 1976. His works are characterized by historical settings and medical themes, which have won him a wide readership. more

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“Il dolore è un mare fatto con le tue lacrime. Onde salate coprono gli abissi scuri dove devi nuotare al tuo ritmo. Ci vuole tanto tempo per aumentare la resistenza. Alcuni giorni le mie braccia fendevano l'acqua e io sentivo che le cose si sarebbero sistemate, che la riva non era troppo distante. Poi un ricordo, un momento mi facevano quasi annegare e ricominciavo da capo, lottando per restare a galla, esausta, annegando nel mio stesso dolore.”

“C'era sempre più vento, ora il vento ululava angosciosamente, così ululano i branchi di lupi famelici nelle steppe. I marinai uscivano all'improvviso dalla tenebra, si dilatavano, smisuratamente crescevano, un attimo esitavano altissimi sulla murata, càsco non càsco, come un macigno pencolante sull'orlo d'un precipizio, poi cozzavano, e con fragore e schianto di macigno crollavano a bordo. Allora tutto a bordo era onda e frangente.”

“It was a heavier breed than the ones she had seen so far, handsome white mare with a short, muscular neck, wide shoulders, and a hawklike profile that implied strength and nobility. Her mane and tail were golden brown, and wavy, as if they had been braided and then brushed. Her gait was clean and crisp, and she bore her rider, a tall man with long legs, as if he weighted nothing at all. Suddenly England was interesting. This mare would be perfect to cross with Black Satin, if the obstacle of the Atlantic Ocean could be overcome. She was sturdy. She appeared to have a level disposition, paying no attention to the other mounts who passed her or the rattle and bang of the occasional landau. She carried herself beautifully, with a nice balance between the set of her head and the movement of her hindquarters. She held her silken tail high, a sure sign of joy and pride.”

“Do you like horses?" "Truth be told, the only thing I love more is dragons." Wren whistles, and a whinny resounds throughout the air. I spin around, marveling as a horse gallops through the field of jasmine. She's like a bolt of obsidian in a blanket of white, her breaths like little gusts of wind. She rears several times once she's next to Wren, stomping her front hooves until he reaches out to pet her. "This is Nerra. She will take us where we must go." Like an acrobat performing a trick for the umpteenth time, Wren hops onto Nerra's back effortlessly. He reaches a hand out to me, and I climb on. He places my hands around his waist, and I swallow hard. "Hold on tight. You're in for a treat," he says. On the count of three, he kicks Nerra into a gallop. The horse is like a dragon bound to the earth. Her gait is smooth, her gallop so strong it practically feels like she's trying to take flight with each stride. I hold on tightly to Wren. We head north. Dressed in bright garments that appear to be dipped in a ray of sunlight, Emerald flitters around as we enter a field of daisies. "Hi," Wren says. "We're on our way to see Omniscius." Emerald gives a graceful nod, following behind Nerra with several other fairies. Much to my delight, as we exit the field of daisies and encroach on a field of red roses, the fairies' beautiful yellow garments turn red. Wren's shirt and my dress do the same.”