Bookmarker is a personal project by @dellsystem to help with retaining reading material. Source on GitHub.

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1 year, 1 month ago

yet he gladly accepted the horrors of the camps

'But not necessarily these,' Henri said. 'And you aren't going to compare the lot of an unemployed man with that of a forced labourer.'

'At least their daily needs are assured. I'm convinced their lot is less awful than anti-Comunist propaganda would have it. And we tend to forget that a Soviet …

—p.406 The Mandarins by Simone de Beauvoir
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1 year, 1 month ago

you can demand anything of me

‘Above all, don't apologize!' She looked up at him, her face trembling with humility. 'The night of the opening and in the days that followed, I came to understand a great many things. There's no standard by which you can be measured against other people, against me. To want you as I had dreamed of…

—p.404 by Simone de Beauvoir
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1 year, 1 month ago

the SRL had expelled Perron and Samazelle

The article appeared the next morning. Lambert declared himself very dissatisfied with it, and Henri had a feeling that it was being vigorously argued about in the editorial room. That evening, a messenger brought Dubreuilh's letter,. The Committee of the SRL had expelled Perron and Samazelle; the …

—p.403 by Simone de Beauvoir
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1 year, 1 month ago

deplored without questioning the whole regime

Dubreuilh interrupted Henri. 'I know perfectly well what we'd say. My conviction is that these camps aren't essential to the regime, as Peltov maintains. They're tied in with certain policies which can be deplored without questioning the whole regime. We'd dissociate the two things: we'd condemn co…

—p.400 by Simone de Beauvoir
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1 year, 1 month ago

free to say what the Communists don't want to say

Henri listened to the sound of his step fading away in the hall. He felt as if it were his own youth that had just appealed to him; he wouldn't have considered remaining silent for one second if he had seen, through the eyes of a young man of twenty, those millions of slaves imprisoned behind barbe…

—p.397 by Simone de Beauvoir