
Beh, mettiamola così: qui è come essere alla guida di un carrello con la ruota destra un po’ incriccata che tira verso destra. Solo che il carrello è alto quattordici piani, e a destra il banco dei surgelati è imbottito di esplosivo.
"All this he saw, for one moment breathless and intense, vivid on the morning sky; and still, as he looked, he lived; and still, as he lived, he wondered."
― Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows
Beh, mettiamola così: qui è come essere alla guida di un carrello con la ruota destra un po’ incriccata che tira verso destra. Solo che il carrello è alto quattordici piani, e a destra il banco dei surgelati è imbottito di esplosivo.
A werewolf story by Alexandre Dumas père. Chapter XXII: Thibault’s Last Wish Urged in her flight by a hideous terror, and anxious to reach the village where she had left her husband with all speed possible, Agnelette, for the very reason that she was running so hastily,
1. A Voice in the Margins, a Lesson in the Centre What does Natalia Ginzburg, an Italian novelist of quiet prose and domestic landscapes, have to do with design? On the surface, little: she did not theorise objects or urban space, nor did she work
A werewolf story by Alexandre Dumas père. Chapter XXI: The Genius of Evil The next evening, about nine o’clock, a man might be seen walking along the Puits-Sarrasin road and making for for the Osieres forest-path. It was Thibault, on his way to pay a last
A werewolf story by Alexandre Dumas père. Chapter XXII: Thibault’s Last Wish Urged in her flight by a hideous terror, and anxious to reach the village where she had left her husband with all speed possible, Agnelette, for the very reason that she was running so hastily,
1. A Voice in the Margins, a Lesson in the Centre What does Natalia Ginzburg, an Italian novelist of quiet prose and domestic landscapes, have to do with design? On the surface, little: she did not theorise objects or urban space, nor did she work
A werewolf story by Alexandre Dumas père. Chapter XXI: The Genius of Evil The next evening, about nine o’clock, a man might be seen walking along the Puits-Sarrasin road and making for for the Osieres forest-path. It was Thibault, on his way to pay a last
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