“(We) fell out of love with life for having learnt too much of death. ("At School")” — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share Image
“...without knowing why, he yielded to the temptation of those lips and flung onto them, eating them, partaking of their sacrament... Eucharist… — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share Image
“Oh, the joy of the arrival of a child, which is both the one and the other, a mirror in which husband… — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share Image
“The man did not attempt to deny it: 'Yes! It's the fault of this town.' The woman, pale and mournful, agreed: 'It's… — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share Image
“All lovers desire solitude in order to possess each other more completely. They create for each other a new universe inhabited by… — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share Image
“The act of writing itself is like an act of love. There is contact. There is exchange too. We no longer know… — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share Image
“That is the way it is, we always fall in love because of a detail, a nuance. It is a marker we… — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share Image
“Then he returned to his theme: 'If so many lovers feel the desire to die and more and more die each day,… — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share Image
“A great melancholy was hanging in the air, giving their love a more languid, more tender feeling. It was like the love… — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share Image
“Yes, it was the love of woman that was the danger, the obstacle on which her dearest wish might founder. How it… — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share Image
“It could be said that Borluut was in love with the town. But we only have one heart for all our loves,… — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share Image
“Once he had reached the top, he looked down on the town at his feet. Such repose, such tranquility, what a lesson… — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share Image
“Mevr. Cadzand feared for her son who, with his responsive nature, as sensitive as a hothouse plant, was more exposed. Fortunately religion is a… — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share
“A great melancholy was hanging in the air, giving their love a more languid, more tender feeling. It was like the love one feels… — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share
“Oh, the sudden change of perspective brought about by travel and absence! How different everything was here: the people in the streets, the houses,… — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share
“All lovers desire solitude in order to possess each other more completely. They create for each other a new universe inhabited by the two… — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share
“Now Borluut was seeing it from close to. And to its very end, it seemed, from the way the line of the horizon merged… — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share
“He felt alone, prey to the tedium, to the dreariness of time, especially at the approach of twilight which, during those late-autumn days, came… — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share
Can there be anything more sad than a girl dying on the day of her first communion, in her new dress. A little bride… — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share
“Dead towns are the Cathedrals of Silence. They, too, have their gargoyles, singular figures, exaggerated, dubious, set in high profile. They stand out from… — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share
“Is it not strange how quickly one can become detached from everything? How empty life appears when one is close to death!” — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share
“(We) fell out of love with life for having learnt too much of death. ("At School")” — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share
“Does it not sometimes happen in life that our actions are solely for an enemy, so as to stand up to him, to confound… — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share
“That is the way it is, we always fall in love because of a detail, a nuance. It is a marker we set up… — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share
“In Bruges he had carried out a work which was anonymous and brought no glory, but was seen as admirable once it had been… — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share
“—that exquisite sensual pleasure of collectors, who are a tactile species—” — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share
“The widower reviewed his past in a sunless light which was intensified by the greyness of the November twilight, whilst the bells subtly impregnated… — Georges Rodenbach Copy Share
