Faded Fantasy3 читателя тэги
R/V/
You have the flexibility of a fading flower. Your voice is melancholy as the winds of October that bring down the dead leaves. Your lassitude enchants me and your fragility ravishes me.
V/W/
I long for a large room to myself, with books and nothing else, where I can shut myself up, and see no оne, and read myself into peace.
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And his sadness is dionysian,
Black champagne his lamentation.
He is a sea with a veiled moon.
His God seems dead, but is not so.
R/M/R/
I learned simplicity, learned slowly and with difficulty how unassuming everything is, and became mature enough to put simplicity into words. And this all happened because I was able to meet you, back then when for the first time I was in danger of surrendering myself to formlessness. And if this danger always finds a way to return and always returns larger and stronger, it is also true that the memory of you grows in me, the awareness of you, and it too keeps strengthening.
R/B/
Her face was slender and milk-white, and had a kind of gentle hunger that touched over everything with tireless curiosity. It was a look, almost, of pale surprise; the eyes were so dark and fixed to the world that no move escaped them.
R/V/
Her heavy hair was full of the perfume of roses and sandalwood. Beneath the languor of her heavy lids slept passionate violence. She was almost terrifyingly beautiful.
O/B/
It is as absurd to pretend that оne cannot love the same person always, as to pretend that a good artist needs several violins to execute a piece of music.