Beautiful Sentences: Elena Ferrante

All that struggle, all that time spent camouflaging myself when I could be doing something else. The colors that suited me, the ones that didn’t, the styles that made me look thinner, those that made me fatter, the cut that flattered me, the one that didn’t. A lengthy, costly preparation. Reducing myself to a table set for the sexual appetite of the male, toa well-cooked dish to make his mouth water. And then the anguish of not succeeding, of not seeming pretty, of not managing to conceal with skill the vulgarity of the flesh with its moods and odors and imperfections. But I had done it.

Elena Ferrante, Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay.

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Beautiful Sentences: Laudomia Bonnani

Priests are curious, as everyone knows, a priest never just takes a look and moves on. Everyone’s business is his business. Everybody in the end had already understood that.

Laudomia Bonnani. The Reprisal. 

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Beautiful Sentences: Elena Ferrante

Each of us narrates our life as it suits us.

Elena Ferrante, Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay.

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Beautiful Sentences: Laudomia Bonnani

They were round, meek eyes, with straight eyelashes, the eyes of a pet.

Laudomia Bonnani. The Reprisal. 

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Beautiful Sentences: Elie Wiesel

But if all living people are guilty, can’t we deduce from this that no one is?

Elie Wiesel, The Judges.

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Beautiful Sentences: Tom Rachman

What I really fear is time. That’s the devil: whipping us on when we’d rather loll, so the present sprints by, impossible to grasp, and all is suddenly past, a past that won’t hold still, that slides into these inauthentic tales.

Tom Rachman. The Imperfectionists

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Beautiful Sentences: Harriet Beecher Stowe

Of course, in a novel, people’s hearts break, and they die, and that is the end of it; and in a story this is very convenient. But in real life we do not die when all that makes life bright dies to us. There is a most busy and important round of eating, drinking, dressing, walking, visiting, buying, selling, talking, reading, and all that makes up what is commonly called living,  yet to be gone through; and this yet remained to Augustine.

Harriet Beecher Stowe, Uncle Tom’s Cabin

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Beautiful Sentences: Alberto Manguel

Some nights I dream of an entirely anonymous library in which books have no title and boast no author, forming a continuous narrative stream in which all genres, all styles, all stories converge, and all protagonists and all locations are unidentified, a stream into which I can dip at any point of its course.

Alberto Manguel, The Library at Night.

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Beautiful Sentences: Jeffery Eugenides

We knew that the girls were our twins, that we existed in space like animals with identical skins, and that they knew everything about us though we couldn’t fathom them at all. We knew, finally, that the girls were really women in disguise, that they understood love and even deathm and that our job was merely to create the noise that seemed to fascinate them.

Jeffery Eugenides, The Virgin Suicides.

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Beautiful Sentences: Alberto Manguel

Every reader exists to ensure for a certain book a modest immortality. Reading is, in this sense, a ritual of rebirth.

Alberto Manguel, The Library at Night.

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