"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."
I’m doing some catching up on old reads, and here’s another one. I don’t know the author, this time, but I bought the book because of the publisher, which often associates it with the stunning “Winter Harvest” by Ioanna Papadopoulou, and the association is on
NOTHING could have been more neutral, more dull; the scene was the lecture hall of one of our most learned societies, as austere and grim a place as the cold mind and lifeless taste of Science could conceive, or anyhow did conceive and execute in
Tom Mountstephen was dressed in his very best—a black coat, a tie of blue satin studded with veritable planets, and in it a new zodiacal sign—a fox in full career, that formed the head of a pin. Tom’s collar was so stiffly starched and so
I’m doing some catching up on old reads, and here’s another one. I don’t know the author, this time, but I bought the book because of the publisher, which often associates it with the stunning “Winter Harvest” by Ioanna Papadopoulou, and the association is on
NOTHING could have been more neutral, more dull; the scene was the lecture hall of one of our most learned societies, as austere and grim a place as the cold mind and lifeless taste of Science could conceive, or anyhow did conceive and execute in
Tom Mountstephen was dressed in his very best—a black coat, a tie of blue satin studded with veritable planets, and in it a new zodiacal sign—a fox in full career, that formed the head of a pin. Tom’s collar was so stiffly starched and so
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