(...) the translator of prose is the slave of the author and the translator of poetry is his rival. — Andreï Makine Copy Share Image
“This sacrifice, which saved his life, reminded him again that the evil of this world could be put to rout by the will of… — Andreï Makine Copy Share Image
The fatal mistake we make is looking for a paradise that endures...This obsession with what lasts causes us to overlook many a fleeting paradise. — Andreï Makine Copy Share Image
“Volsky once more had the feeling that the bond between them was indifferent to the demise of bodies.” — Andreï Makine Copy Share Image
“Men can be pitiless towards a woman whose body has eluded them, particularly if this is thanks to their own cowardice.” — Andreï Makine Copy Share Image
“The life these words speak of is not worth the ink they are written in.... He now knows that the only words worth writing… — Andreï Makine Copy Share Image
...she studies to be equal in a world that is no longer surprised at anything — Andreï Makine Copy Share Image
“As his hands fell upon the keyboard, it was still possible to believe a beautiful harmony had been formed at random, in spite of… — Andreï Makine Copy Share Image
“That apple orchard is still in flower," I told myself. "Time has passed it by, leaving it behind in a moment that does not… — Andreï Makine Copy Share Image
“He had already come to see human lives as one single communal life and it was perhaps this perception that gave him hope.” — Andreï Makine Copy Share Image
“The though revives in him the oldest memory of his life. A child sees a door closing: without knowing who it is that has… — Andreï Makine Copy Share Image
“Once again, without explaining anything, they understood that they must leave. Go away before this world woke up and continued with a life from… — Andreï Makine Copy Share Image
