Filed under beautiful sentences

Beautiful Sentences: Charles Willeford

Policemen undoubtedly had some kind of inborn perverted streak that normal men like himself didn’t have.

Charles Willeford, Miami Blues.

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Beautiful Sentences: Elie Wiesel

Don’t forget that the Jews were not the only victims of my father and his accomplices: we, their children, are victims too. In our own way, we too have been uprooted and left on the scrap heap. For the children of the executioners too, midnight will always be sounding. Don’t forget that.

Elie Wiesel, The Judges.

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Beautiful Sentences: Ernest Hemingway

“It’s all nonsense. It’s only nonsense. I’m not afraid of the rain. I’m not afraid of the rain. Oh, oh, God, I wish I wasn’t.” She was crying. I comforted her and she stopped crying. But outside it kept on raining.

Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms.

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Beautiful Sentences: Elie Wiesel

Why does the Torah begin with the second letter, beth, rather than the first, aleph? Because the latter was already in exile.

Elie Wiesel, The Judges.

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Beautiful Sentences: William Faulkner

My Mother is a fish.

William Faulkner, As I Lay Dying.

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Beautiful Sentences: Elie Wiesel

I’m past all desires; too many dead people dwell within me.

Elie Wiesel, The Judges.

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Beautiful Sentences: William Faulkner

I can remember how when I was young I believed death to be a phenomenon of the body; now I know it to be merely a function of the mind—and that of the minds of the ones who suffer the bereavement. The nihilists say it is the end; the fundamentalists, the beginning; when in reality it is no more than a single tenant or family moving out of a tenement or a town.

William Faulkner, As I Lay Dying.

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Beautiful Sentences: Elie Wiesel

What if they tried to play tricks with your memory in order to attack the thing it protects—your soul?

Elie Wiesel, The Judges.

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Beautiful Sentences: Maria Semple

This is why you must love life: one day you’re offering up your social security number to the Russia Mafia; two weeks later you’re using the word calve as a verb.

Maria Semple, Where’d You Go, Bernadette?

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Beautiful Sentences: Keith Ridgway

She liked art. She liked paintings and video art and photography. She liked to read about artists and she liked to hear them talk. She had been to all the big London art museums already, and she had been to some small ones too, and some galleries. She wanted to be an artist, she thought, she liked how the world looked and felt one way when you looked at it or breathed or walked about, and looked another way completely when you looked at art, even though you recognized that the art was about the world, or had something to do with the world—the world you looked at or breathed or walked about in.

Keith Ridgway, “Rothko Eggs.”

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