“…in an indistinct fashion, that she possessed a weapon; women play with their beauty as children do with a knife. They wound themselves”
Savages of the civilization –can you imagine– demanded light with the mask of night
Pamuk speaks of hüzün in equally romantic air of melancholy as Coelho’s zahir. Looking east on a ground of the west
“…it was the Parisian nose, that is to say, spiritual, delicate, irregular, pure,—which drives painters to despair, & charms poets”
“..it annoys him, a wealthy man can, without any particular trouble, do as well, if not better, than he who has devoted all his life to it”
“He was soon aware that there was springing up in his heart a desire for desires—ennui” [Alexey regained conciousness]
“…the mistake men make in picturing to themselves happiness as the realization of their desires” [Alexey thinking]
“…all the same color for which no one has a name—a color somewhere between gray & charcoal that is no color at all”
December. I can’t help but winning the combat of yesterday, tomorrow
“Ah, generosity! If you want to be right, I can give you that satisfaction. You’re in the right; but I’m going all the same”