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Quote by Andrei Aksana

“Waktu tak pernah bisa ditangkap. Tak pernah bisa jatuh tersungkur. Meskipun telah dikejar dan diperangkap. Meskipun telah renta dan jompo. Waktu telah menodai setiap lembar kehidupan kita.”

Quote by Andrei Aksana

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Lelaki Terindah

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Andrei Aksana

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“my family's going to eat as long as anybody eats. What they're trying to do is starve you Conchs out of here so they can burn down the shacks and put up apartments and make this a tourist town. That's what I hear. I hear they're buying up lots, and then after the poor people are starved out and gone somewhere else to starve some more they're going to come in and make it into a beauty spot for tourists.”

“Brian and Avis deliver their stacks and try to refuse dinner, but the waiters bring them glasses of burgundy, porcelain plates with thin, peppery steaks redolent of garlic, scoops of buttery grilled Brussels sprouts, and a salad of beets, walnuts, and Roquefort. They drag a couple of lawn chairs to a quiet spot on the street and they balance the plates on their laps. Some ingredient in the air reminds Avis of the rare delicious trips they used to make to the Keys. Ten years after they'd moved to Miami they'd left Stanley and Felice with family friends and Avis and Brian drove to Key West on a sort of second honeymoon. She remembers how the land dropped back into distance: wetlands, marsh, lazy-legged egrets flapping over the highway, tangled, sulfurous mangroves. And water. Steel-blue plains, celadon translucence. She and Brian had rented a vacation cottage in Old Town, ate small meals of fruit, cheese, olives, and crackers, swam in the warm, folding water. Each day stirring into the next, talking about nothing more complicated than the weather, spotting a shark off the pier, a mysterious constellation lowering in the west. Brian sheltered under a celery-green umbrella while Avis swam: the water formed pearls on the film of her sunscreen. They watched the night's rise, an immense black curtain from the ocean. Up and down the beach they hear the sounds of the outdoor bars, sandy patios switching on, distant strains of laughter, bursts of music. Someone played an instrument- quick runs of notes, arpeggios floating in soft ovals like soap bubbles over the darkening water.”

“No matter how much I loved the idea of a book set in Key West, the reality of it never did anything but disappoint me. Maybe alexithymia was to blame. Maybe it was the writer’s lack of talent. Maybe it was the inebriant nature or ephemeral essence of Key West living. Maybe it was all of those things. Maybe it was none of them. It didn’t matter. It was my opinion that no story set in Key West has ever, or will ever, do the island justice.”