Charlotte Yates didn’t especially care for music. All that abstract mooning about. Words, that was what moved people. A good play was worth a thousand symphonies.
Magnus FlyteStichwörter: symphonies-of-words
Prague. Praha. The name actually meant “threshold”. Pollina had said the city was a portal between the life of the good and … the other. A city of dark magic, Alessandro had called it.
Magnus FlyteStichwörter: prague
She hadn’t really counted on having to measure pedagogic dick length with a whole tribe.
Magnus FlyteStichwörter: dick-contest
This place was just a pile of old stones. Pretty stones arranged in intriguing ways, but just old stones.
“And outdated wiring,” her father would have added.
Stichwörter: old-stones
The Nazis had been one thing. The communists were another. But now there were academics crawling all over the palace.
Magnus FlyteStichwörter: academics
Men were ridiculous, in all cultures and across time.
Magnus FlyteStichwörter: men
...how strange and frightening and intoxicating life could be.
Magnus FlyteStichwörter: life
History should be studied but not worshipped.
Magnus FlyteThe cold war was over, but all the little games persisted. It was a good thing those puppets in the Middle East had been too busy grubbing around in their deserts to play any serious role in international espionage ... She took a calming moment to visualize the entire Arab world as a giant parking lot. Lovely.
Magnus FlyteStichwörter: espionage arab-world
Dig your nails deep enough into the back of a Soviet, and eventually you'll find a Russian.
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