Oh, but once my memories had pulsed with the blood-heat of life. In desperation, I forced myself to recall that once, I had walked with kings and conversed in languages never heard in this land. Once I had stood at the prow of a Sea Wolf ship and sai...
Citoyen suisse né à... Kaboul (un roman en soi), j’ai l’outrecuidance d’écrire dans cette langue qui depuis ma vie de lycéen jusque l’âge certain de la retraite a constitué une de mes véritables passions. Ma matrice intellectuelle éta...
This is where I go, when I go: It's a room with no windows and no doors, and walls that are thin enough for me to see and hear everything but too thick to break through. I'm there, but I'm not there. I am pounding to be let out, but nobody can hear m...
The fury of confession, at first, then the fury of clarity: It was from you, Death, that such hypocritical obscure feeling was born! And now let them accuse me of every passion, let them bad-mouth me, let them say I’m deformed, impure, obsessed, a ...
Ay, that I had not done a thousand more. Even now I curse the day—and yet, I think, Few come within the compass of my curse,— Wherein I did not some notorious ill, As kill a man, or else devise his death, Ravish a maid, or plot the way to do it, ...
Andrew Largeman: It's like the Wailing Wall. Sam: What? Andrew Largeman: The Wailing Wall. It's like the most holy place for Jews to go an pray in Israel. It's all that's left of this enormous temple that was destroyed by the Romans. Sam: So you're l...
