“Neat little boys in neat little shirts, so earnest and wholesome, but hidden underneath their faces were old hags, skin pitted with acid.” — Mariam Petrosyan Copy Share Image
“The House might not accept him. This had happened to others, he himself saw it not once and not twice, so he knew what he was talking about. Something might not accept him. It could not be put in words, it could not be subjected to logical analysis, this Something that was the House itself, or maybe its spirit, its… — Mariam Petrosyan Copy Share
“Neat little boys in neat little shirts, so earnest and wholesome, but hidden underneath their faces were old hags, skin pitted with acid.” — Mariam Petrosyan Copy Share Image
“Much easier to complicate the road to it than to accept that it could never be achieved.” — Mariam Petrosyan Copy Share Image
“Only then did I allow myself to cry. I hoped against hope that no one could hear me. Something ended that night, and it… — Mariam Petrosyan Copy Share Image
“There is nothing more horrible than knowing what awaits us tomorrow,” — Mariam Petrosyan Copy Share Image
“This is a question of freedom,” he says. “Which can be discussed until forever, breaking only for sleep, tea, and movable feasts. Would you… — Mariam Petrosyan Copy Share Image
“There is none happier than a true fool,” the invisible storyteller said. The” — Mariam Petrosyan Copy Share Image
“Janus nods. “We’re haggling over two issues. A yearly subscription. It’s a pig in a poke. Two pigs.” “In” — Mariam Petrosyan Copy Share Image
“My own uselessness is devouring me. Soon there will be only bones left. A familiar feeling, one I’ve had too often ever since Wolf… — Mariam Petrosyan Copy Share Image
“Ralph stopped and studied the wall and a trail of smeared black footprints. They went up vertically, from the bottom to the ceiling, then… — Mariam Petrosyan Copy Share Image
“So it was not, in fact, a suicide?” Vulture shook his head pensively. “It is a question of semantics. When a person spends a… — Mariam Petrosyan Copy Share Image
