“The orange sky is rolling across the sky like a severed head, gentle light glimmers in the ravines among the clouds, the banners of the sunset are fluttering above our heads. The stench of yesterday’s blood and slaughtered horses drips into the evening chill.”
Quote by Isaac Babel
Author
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“If the world could write by itself, it would write like Tolstoy.”
Source: Up the Down Staircase
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“People ate bread made of the shells of peas because there was no flour.”
