he wanted her. And at another time, as another man, he would have her. Without hesitation. As lover... as more.
he wanted her.
And at another time, as another man, he would have her. Without hesitation. As lover... as more.
he strove to leave his life in the hands of God, and to forget himself.
he remained restrained and strangely composed. It was a composure born of extreme provocation. It stemmed from a lucidity that lies beyond rage.
he knew no other pleasure but what consisted in opposition.
he continues to cling to the forlorn hope that I will turn into one of those swooning females...and fling myself squeeling at him whenever anything happens. Like all men, he clings to his illusions.
he began to speak to me, not in the jocular way of visitors to the menagerie but rather as one speaks to the wind or to the waves crashing on a beach, uttering that which must be said but which must not be heard by anyone.
he also noticed that certain things which he felt deeply changed their meaning at the touch of words, so that he could no longer recognize them himself as he spoke. So that indeed he often wondered whether thinking were enough, whether thoughts were not a mere groping for something that was forever out of reach.
having once seen him put forth his strength in battle, methinks I could know him again among a thousand warriors. He rushes into the fray as if he were summoned to a banquet. There is more than mere strength -- there seems as if the whole soul and spirit of the champion were given to every blow which he deals upon his enemies. God assoilzie him of the sin of bloodshed! It is fearful, yet magnificent, to behold how the arm and heart of one man can triumph over hundreds.
golf was no longer the most popular sport among the corporate czars because they found playing with natural balls much more satisfying.
giving into despair was like eating poisonous berries to keep from feeling hungry.