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Quote by John Buchan

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SIR EDWARD LEITHEN Complete Collection – 6 Titles in One Premium Edition (Mystery & Thriller Series): The Power-House, John Macnab, The Dancing Floor, The Gap in the Curtain, Sick Heart River & Sing a Song of Sixpence

The collection encompasses the following titles: The Power-House, John Macnab, The Dancing Floor, The Gap in the Curtain, Sick Heart River, and Sing a Song of Sixpence. These works are renowned for their suspenseful narratives and intricate plots, showcasing Leithen's skill in the genre. more

Author

John Buchan
John Buchan

John Buchan, born on August 26, 1875, and died on February 11, 1940, was a former Governor General of Canada and a renowned novelist and historian. He is best known for his historical novels and adventure stories, which have won the hearts of readers worldwide. more

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“I come home that morning, after I been fired, and stood outside my house with my new work shoes on. The shoes my mama paid a month's worth a light bill for. I guess that's when I understood what shame was and the color of it too. Shame ain't black, like dirt, like I always thought it was. Shame be the color of a new white uniform your mother ironed all night to pay for, white without a smudge or a speck a work-dirt on it.”

“Rohan's fingertips drifted with stunning delicacy over her throat, behind her ear, pushing into the satiny warmth of her hair. "You are an interesting woman Amelia." Gooseflesh rose wherever his breath touched. "I can't f-fathom why you would think so." His playful mouth traced the wing of her brow. "I find you thoroughly, deeply interesting. I want to open you like a book and read every page." A smile curved the corners of his lips as he added huskily, "Footnotes included.”

“Poetry is perhaps this: an Atemwende, a turning of our breath. Who knows, perhaps poetry goes its way—the way of art—for the sake of just such a turn? And since the strange, the abyss and Medusa’s head, the abyss and the automaton, all seem to lie in the same direction—is it perhaps this turn, this Atemwende, which can sort out the strange from the strange? It is perhaps here, in this one brief moment, that Medusa’s head shrivels and the automaton runs down? Perhaps, along with the I, estranged and freed here, in this manner, some other thing is also set free?”