Welcome to Bookmarker!

This is a personal project by @dellsystem. I built this to help me retain information from the books I'm reading.

Source code on GitHub (MIT license).

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You added a note
3 years, 6 months ago

the future was a dark corridor

After the weariness of this disappointment, her heart remained empty, and then the succession of identical days began again.

So now they were going to continue one after another like this, always the same, innumerable, bringing nothing! Other people’s lives, however dull they were, had at least …

—p.54 Madame Bovary Part I (1) by Gustave Flaubert
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3 years, 6 months ago

what a pathetic man

[...] Charles had no ambition! A doctor from Yvetot, with whom he had recently found himself in consultation, had humiliated him at the very bedside of the patient, in front of the assembled relatives. When Charles told her the story, that evening, Emma flew into a rage against his colleague. Charl…

—p.52 Part I (1) by Gustave Flaubert
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3 years, 6 months ago

the details vanished, but her longing remained

How long the next day was! She walked in her little garden, going and coming along the same paths, stopping in front of the flower beds, the espaliered tree, the plaster curé, contemplating with amazement all these things from the past that she knew so well. How distant the ball already seemed to h…

—p.48 Part I (1) by Gustave Flaubert
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3 years, 6 months ago

the illusion of this luxurious life

The night was dark. A few drops of rain were falling. She breathed in the damp wind, which cooled her eyelids. The music of the dance was still humming in her ears, and she made an effort to stay awake in order to prolong the illusion of this luxurious life that she would soon have to leave behind.

—p.46 Part I (1) by Gustave Flaubert
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3 years, 6 months ago

the days when the prizes were given out

She would wonder whether there hadn’t been some way, through other chance combinations, of meeting a different man; and she would try to imagine those events that had not taken place, that different life, that husband whom she did not know. All of them, in fact, were unlike this one. He could have …

—p.38 Part I (1) by Gustave Flaubert