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

on paper, I make time stand still project/secret-life

He went upstairs and sat down at his desk. She really deserved being shown the manuscript. That way he would be rid of her for good. Of course, he'd have to cut the manuscript a bit before publication — unless she should die before then. But in the meantime, when he reread it, he felt revenged. 'In…

—p.283 The Mandarins by Simone de Beauvoir
You added a note
1 year, 1 month ago

on paper, I make time stand still project/secret-life

He went upstairs and sat down at his desk. She really deserved being shown the manuscript. That way he would be rid of her for good. Of course, he'd have to cut the manuscript a bit before publication — unless she should die before then. But in the meantime, when he reread it, he felt revenged. 'In…

—p.283 by Simone de Beauvoir
You added a note
1 year, 1 month ago

to show the world to others as you yourself see it why/write

'It's true it isn't easy to be young in these times, ' Henri said to himself. He made up his mind to have a serious talk with Lambert one of these days. 'And just what would I say to him?' He began undressing. 'If I were a Communist or a Christian, I'd be less at a loss. An ethical system based on …

—p.275 by Simone de Beauvoir
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1 year, 1 month ago

the executions of the future

The real reason is that your hatred of Russia has gone to your head,' Henri said. 'You twist facts, spread all sorts of lies. It's a filthy business! By attacking Russia, you're attacking socialism in general.'

'You know damned well that Russia and socialism have nothing to do with each other an…

—p.273 by Simone de Beauvoir
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1 year, 1 month ago

those lights shine for everyone

Henri hesitated. 'Suppose you see a string of lights at night along the bank of a river. It's a pretty sight. But when you know they light up cities where people are dying of hunger, they lose all their poetry, become nothing but a mirage. You'll tell me I can write about other things, about those …

—p.244 by Simone de Beauvoir