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Quote by Annemarie Schwarzenbach

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All the Roads Are Open: The Afghan Journey

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Annemarie Schwarzenbach

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“En efecto, aquellas mujeres, que acudían a la vez a su pensamiento, se estorbaban las unas a las otras y se empequeñecían, como bajo un mismo nivel de amor que las igualaba. Cogiendo, pues, a puñados las cartas mezcladas, se divirtió durante unos minutos dejándolas caer en cascadas, de la mano derecha a la mano izquierda. Finalmente, aburrido, cansado, Rodolfo fue a colocar de nuevo la caja en el armario diciéndose: —¡Qué cantidad de cuentos!”

Letters
Book:madame bovary
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“Henry, who is in every other respect exactly what a brother should be, who loves me, consults me, confides in me, and will talk to me by the hour together, has never yet turned the page in a letter; and very often it is nothing more than, "Dear Mary, I am just arrived. Bath seems full, and every thing as usual. Your's sincerely.' That is the true manly style; that is a complete brother's letter.”

HumorLettersBrothersNothing To SayLost For Words
Book:Mansfield Park
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“PABLO, The reason that I love thee remains strange & blurry Do I love thee for thy creativity? For the songs thou has written so carefully? Do I love thee for thy strangeness & mystery? Each layer of thy persona is a cure to my melancholy Allow me to worship thy beauty from afar My fated heartache...my unreachable star. Letters To Pablo (forever unpublished)”

LovePoetryPoemLettersLove PoemIndie AuthorLove LettersOld LettersUnpublished
Author:Miss Rainbow Moonfire
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“Nähtyäni osia Aasiasta ja Afrikasta ja kierrettyäni miltei koko Euroopan uskon, että rehellinen englantilainen heppu on muita onnellisempi, kun hän pitää kreikkalaisia viinejä vähemmän maukkaina kuin maaliskuussa pantua olutta, ajattelee etteivät afrikkalaiset hedelmät maistu yhtä hyviltä kuin kullankeltaiset pikkuomenat, uskoo naudan takaselästä leikatun pihvin olevan parempaa kuin Italian viikunoiden ja punnitsee muutenkin kaiken kaikkiaan ettei tästä elämästä voisi mitenkään nauttia vanhan kunnon Englannin ulkopuolella. Rukoilen Jumalaa, että ajattelisin itsekin samoin lopun elämääni, ja koska minun on tyydyttävä tämän maan suomaan viheliäiseen päivänvalon määrään toivon, että unohtaisin pian Konstantinopolin eloisan auringon.”

LettersIstanbulTurkeyConstantinople
Book:Elämänmenoa Kultaisessa sarvessa
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“We read the letters of the dead like helpless gods, but gods, nonetheless, since we know the dates that follow. We know which debts will never be repaid. Which widows will remarry with the corpse still warm. Poor dead, blindfolded dead, gullible, fallible, pathetically prudent. We see the faces people make behind their backs. We catch the sound of wills being ripped to shreds. The dead sit before us comically, as if on buttered bread, or frantically pursue the hats blown from their heads. Their bad taste, Napoleon, steam, electricity, their fatal remedies for curable diseases, their foolish apocalypse according to St. John, their counterfeit heaven on earth according to Jean-Jacques… We watch the pawns on their chessboards in silence, even though we see them three squares later. Everything the dead predicted has turned out completely different. Or a little bit different – which is to say, completely different. The most fervent of them gaze confidingly into our eyes: their calculations tell them that they’ll find perfection there.”

DeathLettersDeadHindsight
Book:View with a Grain of Sand: Selected Poems
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