Sublime

You are, unfortunately, a fiction writer. You are attempting a cycle of very short belletristic pieces, pieces which as it happens are not contes philosophiques and not vignettes or scenarios or allegories or fables, exactly, though neither are they really qualifiable as ‘short stories’ (not even as those upscale microbrewed Flash Fictions that hav

You’ve got your head screwed on all right. The fire is burning in you now, but it’ll die down; you’ll get it out of your system and you’ll come back here. And I’ll be waiting for you, because I feel you’re the only person on earth who hasn’t condemned me, my dear boy, I really feel this, how can I fail to feel it!…’ And he began to snivel. He was m

Il se mit à pleurer. Il était sentimental : méchant, mais sentimental.

облезлом теле, можно было судить о ее ветхости

The thought that there is no greater misfortune in the world than the loss of reason?

he was simply an early lover of mankind,

“No, that kind, monks, exactly that kind, that kind! You are saving your souls here on cabbage and you think you’re righteous! You eat gudgeons, one gudgeon a day, and you think you can buy God with gudgeons!”

parvenu.