“She was forcing it with her scorn, the kiss she gave me, the hard curl of her lips, the mockery of her eyes, until I was like a man made of wood and there was no feeling within me except terror and a fear of her, a sense that her beauty was too much, that she was so much more beautiful than I, deeper rooted than I. She made me a stranger unto myself, she was all of those calm nights and tall eucalyptus trees, the desert stars, that land and sky, that fog outside, and I had come there with no purpose save to be a mere writer, to get money, to make a name for myself and all that piffle.”
Ask the Dust (1939)
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John Fante 113
1909–1983; American novelist, short story writer and screen… 1909–1983Related quotes
On his daughter, Nastassja. p. 286
Kinski Uncut : The Autobiography of Klaus Kinski (1996)
“Her soul in the balance, my heart in her hands
I made her a widow, she made me a man.”
We Know Who Our Enemies Are.
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Phantastes (1858)
The previous Summer, at Barèges, while he lay with his leg in plaster, Lautrec had often been visited in the evening by his cousin, Jeanne d'Armagnac
Source: 1879-1884, T-Lautrec, by Henri Perruchot, p. 53 - written note in Nice, Winter of 1880
