Lawrence Durrell cytaty

Lawrence George Durrell – angielski powieściopisarz, starszy brat zoologa Geralda Durrella.

✵ 27. Luty 1912 – 7. Listopad 1990   •   Natępne imiona Lawrence George Durrell
Lawrence Durrell: 56   Cytatów 0   Polubień

Lawrence Durrell słynne cytaty

Lawrence Durrell: Cytaty po angielsku

“Who invented the human heart, I wonder? Tell me and then show me the place where he was hanged.”

Lawrence Durrell książka Justine

Wariant: Who invented the human heart, I wonder? Tell me, and then show me the place where he was hanged.
Źródło: Justine

“Art like life is an open secret.”

Lawrence Durrell The Alexandria Quartet

Źródło: The Alexandria Quartet

“Sorrow is implicit in love as gravitation is implicit in mass.”

Lawrence Durrell książka Monsieur

Źródło: Monsieur

“A woman's best love letters are always written to the man she is betraying.”

Lawrence Durrell The Alexandria Quartet

The Alexandria Quartet (1957–1960), Justine (1957)

“Music was invented to confirm human loneliness.”

Lawrence Durrell The Alexandria Quartet

The Alexandria Quartet (1957–1960), Clea (1960)

“There are only three things to be done with a woman. You can love her, suffer for her, or turn her into literature.”

Lawrence Durrell książka Justine

Źródło: The Alexandria Quartet (1957–1960), Justine (1957)

“A city becomes a world when one loves one of its inhabitants.”

Lawrence Durrell książka Justine

Źródło: The Alexandria Quartet (1957–1960), Justine (1957)

“Gamblers and lovers really play to lose.”

Lawrence Durrell The Alexandria Quartet

Źródło: The Alexandria Quartet

“Science is the poetry of the intellect and poetry the science of the heart's affections.”

Lawrence Durrell The Alexandria Quartet

Źródło: The Alexandria Quartet

“An idea is like a rare bird which cannot be seen. What one sees is the trembling of the branch it has just left.”

Lawrence Durrell The Avignon Quintet

The Avignon Quintet (1974–1985), Monsieur (1974)
Kontekst: The art of prose governed by syncopated thinking; for thoughts curdle in the heart if not expressed. An idea is like a rare bird which cannot be seen. What one sees is the trembling of the branch it has just left.