And now fear spread over the countryside. People no longer knew against whom
to direct their impotent rage.
She had a face so
charming that visitors of all ages and both sexes would stand stockstill at the sight of her,
unable to pull their eyes away, practically licking that face with their eyes, the way
tongues work at ice cream, with that typically stupid, single--minded expression on their
faces that goes with concentrated licking
bathed in sweat and trembling with agitation, no,
not with agitation, but with fear, for he finally admitted it to himself: it was naked fear
that had seized him, and in admitting it he grew calmer and his thoughts clearer
Stichwörter: fear
Something was happening while
you waited. The most essential thing was happening. And even if he himself was doing
nothing, it was happening through him nevertheless. He had done his best. He had
employed all his artistic skill. He had made not one single mistake. His performance had
been unique. It would be crowned with success.... He need only wait a few more hours. It
filled him with profound satisfaction, this waiting. He had never felt so fine in all his life,
so peaceful, so steady, so whole and at one with himself
And he wallowed in disgust and loathing, and his hair stood on end at the delicious horror.
Patrick SüskindStichwörter: hatred loathing disgust
He had to hold his body very still, very still, like some vessel about to slosh over from too much motion. Gradually he managed to get control of his breathing. His excited heart beat more steadily; the pounding of the waves inside him subsided slowly. And suddenly solitude fell across his heart like a dusky reflection. He closed his eyes. The dark doors within him opened, and he entered. The next performance in the theatre of his soul was beginning.
Patrick SüskindStichwörter: solitude
It was good, really, that this external world still existed, if only as a place of refuge.
Patrick Süskindيقال أن لا حياة للإنسان دون أمل
لكن الإنسان لا يحيا
إنه يموت
He would be able to create a scent that was not merely human, but super human, an angels scent, so indescribably good and vital that who ever smelt it would be enchanted and with his whole heart would have to love him.
Patrick SüskindStichwörter: love power perfume lust control angel scent superhuman enchanted
And the awful thing was that Grenouille, although he knew that this odour was his odour, could not smell it. Virtually drowning in himself, he could not for the life of him smell himself!
Patrick SüskindStichwörter: perfume drowning smell odour
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