Author: T

The Hollow Men

The Waste Land; Faber and Faber 1972WorldCat•Read Online•LibraryThing•Google Books•BookFinder  we are the hollow men we are the stuffed men leaning together headpiece filled with straw. alas! our dried voices, when we whisper together are quiet and meaningless as wind in dry grass or rats’ feet over broken glass in our dry cellar. shape without form, shade without colour, paralysed force, gesture without motion; those who have crossed with direct eyes, to death’s other kingdom remember us – if at all – not as lost violent souls, but only as the hollow men the stuffed men. And now you could read... Do Not Stand At My Grave and Weep La Bonne Chanson Now you depart, and though your way may lead… “Why Do I Love” You, Sir? On The Road The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time Tags: broken glass, straw, stuffed men, t s eliot, the hollow men, violent souls, whisper,...

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The Bridge

The BridgeIain M. Banks; Abacus 1992WorldCat•Read Online•LibraryThing•Google Books•BookFinder  “you know,” he said, “if i had my way i wouldn’t let anybody who believed in star signs or the bible or faith healing or anything like that use electric power, or ride in cars and buses and trains and aircraft, or use anything made of plastic. they want to believe the universe works according to their crazy little rules? ok, let them live that way, but why should they be allowed to use the fruits of sheer fucking human genius and hard work…” And now you could read... The Power...

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Jesus’ Son

Everything down there but the curtain was red. it was like a movie of something that was actually happening. black pimps in fur coats. the women were blank, shining areas with photographs of sad girls floating in them. “i’ll just take your money and go upstairs,” somebody said to me. And now you could read... The Heart Goes Last City Of Glass New York Trilogy: Ghosts Caged Bird Death and the Penguin The Power Tags: denis johnson, fur coats, jesus' son, movie, photographs, pimps,...

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Speak, Memory

Speak, Memory (Penguin Modern Classics)Vladimir Nabokov; Penguin Books Ltd 2000WorldCat•LibraryThing•Google Books•BookFinder  just before falling asleep, i often become aware of a kind of one-sided conversation going on in an adjacent section of my mind, quite independently from the actual trend of my thoughts. it is a neutral, detached anonymous voice, which i catch saying words of no importance to me whatever ~ an english or russian sentence, not even addressed to me, and so trivial that i hardly dare give samples, lest the flatness i wish to convey be marred by a molehill of sense. And now you could read... The Corrections City Of Glass New York Trilogy: Ghosts Caged Bird Death and the Penguin The Power Tags: anonymous voice, one-sided conversation, russian, sleep, speak memory, thought, vladimir...

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The Love Song of J.Alfred Prufrock

let us go then, you and i, when the evening is spread out against the sky, like a patient etherised upon a table; let us go, through certain half-deserted streets, the muttering retreats of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels, and sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells: streets that follow like a tedious argument of insidious intent to lead you to an overwhelming question… oh, do not ask, “what is it?” let us go and make our visit. And now you could read... The Pale King If On A Winter’s Night A Traveller Rabbit, Run The Two Kings and the Two...

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