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Quote by Donna Tartt

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The Secret History

In this gripping narrative, a group of students at an exclusive college becomes entangled in a complex web of deceit and murder. The story is told from multiple perspectives, revealing the intricate relationships and hidden motives that drive the characters to their dark fate. more

Author

Donna Tartt
Donna Tartt

Donna Tartt is an American author known for her unique narrative style and profound psychological descriptions. Her works are characterized by complex characters and captivating plots. Her debut novel, 'The Goldfinch,' received widespread acclaim and won multiple literary awards. more

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“Petals the color of butter, primroses and farmhouse Caerphilly. Deep egg yolk and elephant's tusk. Others of piercing marigold, honey and Dutch orange. Trumpets of turmeric, saffron and Sienese alleyways. The narcissi I am planting have petals, coronas and stamens in all the colors of spring. The colors of a child's hand-made Easter card. The single narcissi are those I cherish most, as much for their scent as their simple, uncluttered form. Many are placed singly in small, chipped terracotta pots. They will sit snugly between larger terracotta pans of Thalia, miniature scented daffodils the color of buttermilk, and Jetfire with its orange trumpet. There will be a deep pot of Paperwhites and the scrunched creamy-orange Erlicheer. I'm digging in Avalanche with its tangerine fairy cups and Chinese Sacred Lily, which I fear I have acquired for its name alone. My plan is for a zinc table of spring yellows in all the colors of milk on its journey to cheese. Narcissi, their petals and their scent, carry the spirit of Easter. Planting them on a warm afternoon in November is something of an act of hope. The belief that spring will come once again, and that I will be around to enjoy it. If not, then perhaps someone else will.”

“Were you ever in love, Clarendel? speak the truth. I am just seized with a passionate desire to know.’ ‘Why . . . yes.. ‘ answered he, pulling his lips with his fingers, ‘I think–I rather think. . . . I was once.’ ‘O tell! tell! tell!’ ‘Nay, I am not very positive. One hears it is to happen; and one is put upon thinking of it, while so very young, that one soon takes it for granted. Define it a little, and I can answer you more accurately. Pray, is it any thing beyond being very fond, and very silly, with a little touch of melancholy?”

“You saw me but didn't say hello? I'm wounded, Miss Antonius.' Synton's voice was like a deep rumble of thunder in her ear as he finally dropped his hands but didn't step back. 'Perhaps I was getting the lay of the land. A lady must know where it's safe to step,' she quipped. 'Yet you're stepping all over my ego.' 'Forgive me, my lord. I had no idea you'd be so easily damaged.”

“Apologies for any insult this causes,' she said without peering out from around her easel, 'but I am not in the market for a husband, my lord. Please just go.' A beat of silence passed. With any luck, Vexley would be insulted by the bite in her tone and would turn right back around and leave for some faraway city at the edge of the world. 'Well, that's quite a relief considering I'm in want of a painting, not a wife.”

“I'm not sure what's wrong with me. I'm not Justin Silverstone's biggest fan, but he's not a bad guy. Despite the mistakes he made in the past, he recently helped us destroy Anima from inside out. He's proven himself. And yet, the moment he put his arm around Camilla and turned on his megawatt smile, Ive wanted to open him up from navel to nose, just to play Operation. Same way I reacted when the waiter touched her. I think I'm on my period.”

“Siempre las mismas caras que le recuerdan la herencia del día anterior, las promesas y las obligaciones, los deseos ceñidos por el orden de las frases conocidas. Afloran las palabras que no quiere pronunciar, pero incluso sin pronunciarlas están ahí, contra su voluntad, no le permiten alejarse, desviarse a una calle lateral, explorar un pasaje umbrío, salir a una plaza desconocida, entrar en otra vida.”