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

loving isn't a vocation

'Oh, I always manage to find something to do,' she said gaily.

'By that you mean you have nothing at all to do,' Henri said. He looked at Paula severely. 'I've been doing a lot of thinking about you during the last month. I think it's a crime for you to spend your days vegetating inside these fo…

—p.129 The Mandarins by Simone de Beauvoir
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1 year, 1 month ago

all that just to come to terms with Marxism project/panopticon-diaries

[...] 'My God!' he said to himself with a sharp feeling of anxiety. 'How ignorant we really are!' He read a great deal, but he had little real knowledge excepting in the field of literature. And even in literature ... Until now it hadn't bothered him — no need for any specialized knowledge to fight…

—p.126 by Simone de Beauvoir
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1 year, 1 month ago

l'Espoir has no line

'How can I get it through your thick skull?' Dubreuilh said, shrugging his shoulders. 'Being on the side of the Resistance doesn't constitute a political programme nowadays.'

'No, I don't have a programme,' Henri admitted. 'But whenever the occasion demands it, L'Espoir does choose sides.'

'N…

—p.123 by Simone de Beauvoir
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1 year, 1 month ago

that alone made writing worthwhile why/write

'I felt as if I were back in school writing a composition: Describe your impressions while visiting a concentration camp,' he said ironically. 'I think there were more than twenty of us there writing on the same subject.' Suddenly his face brightened. 'Do you want to know something that's really go…

—p.111 by Simone de Beauvoir
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1 year, 1 month ago

a completely impotent witness to a totally foreign disaster

'She's going to bend over backwards to prove to me I'm free,' he thought unhappily as he got into the little black car. 'But it won't last. I won't stay there indefinitely,' he said to himself bitterly. ‘I’ll start taking care of that little matter tomorrow.' But for the moment, he no longer wanted…

—p.109 by Simone de Beauvoir