“The cats are asleep at the end of my bed and all around me, the thundery silence of L'Escarènere, caught at last in the rising flood of warm air, carrying the sand from the south. The Alps are folded above… — Patricia Duncker Copy Share
“Sav svoj novac je trošila na kupovinu knjiga, a sve vrijeme na njihovo čitanje. Sve su bile ispisane kritikama, odgovorima na marginama, ponekad su… — Patricia Duncker Copy Share Image
“The cats are asleep at the end of my bed and all around me, the thundery silence of L'Escarènere, caught at last in the rising flood of warm air, carrying the sand from the south. The Alps are folded above in the flickering light. And on the desk in the room beneath lies the writing which insists that the only… — Patricia Duncker Copy Share
“I stared at the changing patterns on the back of his white shirt as he moved under the trees.” — Patricia Duncker Copy Share Image
You write your first novel with the desperation of the damned. You're afraid that you'll never write anything else, ever again. — Patricia Duncker Copy Share Image
“Kao pobijeđeni revolucionar napustila je svoje seksualne barikade. Nešto se u njoj slomilo, nježno, tiho i nevoljko, i zagnjurila je lice u udubljenje između… — Patricia Duncker Copy Share Image
Love is not feeling, child, nor even the passion of lovers, which always seeks only its own gratification. It is the act of caring,… — Patricia Duncker Copy Share Image
“The love between writer and a reader is never celebrated. It can never be proved to exist. But he was the man I loved… — Patricia Duncker Copy Share Image
“Madness and passion have always been interchangeable. Throughout the entire western literary tradition. Madness is an abundance of existence. Madness is a way of… — Patricia Duncker Copy Share Image
“Well -- there are two kinds of loneliness, aren't there? There's the loneliness of absolute solitude -- the physical fact of living alone, working… — Patricia Duncker Copy Share Image
