Paul Boccaccio

His most pleasant memory of that time was of a very timid young girl, almost a child, who trembled as she asked him to write an answer to an irresistible letter that she had just received, and that Florentino Ariza recognized as one he had written on the previous afternoon. He answered it in a [...]

“No, no,” Mitya, as it were, still did not understand. “Tell me why it is those poor mothers stand there? Why are people poor? Why is the babe poor? Why is the steppe barren? Why don’t they hug each other and kiss? Why don’t they sing songs of joy? Why are they so dark from [...]

The Floressas Des Esseintes, to judge by the various portraits preserved in the Château de Lourps, had originally been a family of stalwart troopers and stern cavalry men. Closely arrayed, side by side, in the old frames which their broad shoulders filled, they startled one with the fixed gaze of their eyes, their fierce moustaches [...]

After reading Dharma Bums I looked up the poetry of Han Shan, translated by Gary Snyder. A few: In a tangle of cliffs, I chose a place— Bird paths, but no trails for me. What’s beyond the yard? White clouds clinging to vague rocks. Now I’ve lived here—how many years— Again and again, spring and [...]